Strength In Experience, Or Thank God For The March Of Time

Today is my Eleventy-First Birthday!!

Ok. It’s not really my eleventy-first. It’s not even my ninety-first. I’m merely a fetus, by Shire standards. But it is a birthday, and I’m owning it, not mourning it. I went out last night for a big dinner, tapas-style, with some friends. That was very good. I ate foods I’m not supposed to eat (pork!! Chocolate!! Dates!! OMG), and I drank: 3 glasses of forbidden champagne, and 1 glass of forbidden port, in about 3 hours. Woooooo!! Very exciting. PS no migraine so far. Double wooooo!!

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The weather is gorgeous, the dog is sweet and adorable and lovable. I have the taxes finally, almost done. I have a new book I’m right smack dingo in the good part of. I have a friend coming over today for fun hanging out… and I’m going to see if I can talk her into helping me set up a curtain in the dance studio, because I need to figure that out. Then maybe take a cheesecake photo or two of both of us, because that’s fun.

So I’m pondering self-image a lot these days, as I age. I’m trying to do it gracefully, not bitterly, not angrily; but it’s really difficult not to feel that I’m swimming upstream. I’ve had a couple men get freaked out when they realize I’m not the age they assume; it’s almost like they think I’m “pretending to be younger” — dudes, this is my face. It’s not pretending. It is MY FACE. This is my body. And the mind and the heart and the soul inside? All me. 100% of the time, 100% me. I tell my age when I’m asked. (Perhaps that’s the problem. Should I lie? Can’t. Won’t.) So what’s fake here?

Men of whom I speak: the problem, I fear, lies with you.

For example, I was talking to a guy last night who described himself as a certain age and “gristled”. I told him, intending to be uplifting, that I was the same age and I thought we looked great –  he actually used the words “I didn’t realize you were so long in the tooth” and said, “ya hag”!! I don’t think he was joking about my white, even teeth (which are beautiful, by the way). :p He was joking on the “hag” part, but… not a cool joke, not on the birthday of a woman you hardly know. I said “Ouch!” in response, which was his cue to moderate his words, but he just dug the hole deeper. So… I was polite, because I’m generally polite, but later, dissecting the situation, I wished I’d told him not to project his shitty attitude about his own age on me… because yesterday, I took this:


..and I don’t think I look too long in the tooth. In fact, I think I look younger than I have in years. Part of that is owning my self and my age, and not letting anyone make me feel apologetic or bad or uncomfortable about it. If this “gentleman” writes me again (which is in doubt… and frankly, maybe I don’t need that), I may say directly and tactfully that it was in poor taste as a joke on a woman’s birthday. I may add “because I’m dewy and fresh as the morn, mother#$%^”, because although it’s unladylike, it’s oh so me.

Trying to grow boundaries, and protect them, and learn to interact with men in a flirtatious way, is difficult and painful stuff. But it’s important to realize when that hurt is something someone is pushing at you because they feel bad about themselves, or because of some other issue external to you. Two seconds before I told him my age, I was a hot, sumptuous, desirable woman. Two seconds after I mentioned it? A dusty antique. That, my friends, is an example of the problem having nothing to do with me at all. Thank god I’m finally learning to recognize that.

When I was 30, I cried in the bathroom at work because I was afraid of the inexorable march of time. I could only reflect, as I was typing my response to this *boy* last night, dry-faced and rolling my eyes, what a miraculous change the years have wrought. Hooray for the march of time. :} Screw that – hooray for the dance of time. Much better.

***UPDATE: Um. He was joking. There was apologizing, after I explained I was disgruntled. A whole lot of apologizing. Turns out he’s really… really a cool guy. o.O Capable of jokes that I am just now beginning to realize are jokes. But an intriguing dude nonetheless. So I’m not putting him on the scrap heap juuuust yet. And oh yeah, we’re sexting. Like mink in a bucket. Or something. Whatever situation mink would find themselves in, where they would sext a lot. :} Still. I am woman, hear me roar, and also text you sassy messages about my libido. Hurrah!!

There And Back Again release date moved to July 2015?

For real?

(examines calendar to be certain it isn’t April 1, finds that it is, sucks teeth glumly)

Ha. Very ha.

Also, “The Legend Of Bilbo Baggins” as the ending credits song was a good one. — Actually, that would be a stitch, as long as it followed something that went with the end of the Battle of the Five Armies. This was what made my Spidey-sense twitch big time. lol

Damn you, April Fool’s Day.  And The One, I love you. But today I love you kind of like you love your little brother.  ;)

Wearing It So Well

Wearing It So Well

Edited by 3 In The AM — wearing a bit of a worldly, victorious, but not jaded air. It’s delicious, because it’s still joyous, and somehow still wholesome yet naughty. Still him. And all I can think when I see this version of Richard Armitage is “Naked. Here. Now.” Sorry. It’s a bit graphic. But it is the first thing that goes through my head every time I see him at just this point in his career.

It probably has a lot more to do with my psyche than with him… and if he were actually to show up on my doorstep, I’m sure I’d run and get the keys to the car so I could show him all of the cool things about my hometown, rather than dodging to get my most exciting underthings. lol But the brain is a curious and shady implement and mine, right now, is reacting to his smirk by flopping onto its (metaphorical) back.

Silly brain. Richards are for the movies. Well, and for the iPod, in a month or so! (fist pump into the air, can’t wait for Hamlet)

(sigh) Smirkitage. Delicious.

** I finally had to post this photo, and my reaction to it, after seeing it several times on Armitage Agonistes; but if anyone (Perry?) has a click-through link to the image itself handy, I’d appreciate it. I did a cursory search but couldn’t quickly find it, and couldn’t afford to get bogged down on a long look. Thanks!!  – UPDATE — thanks to Perry for the link! Click through for the Tumblr-y goodness, now. **

Round Three of the Middle Earth March Madness, 2014 Edition

Round Three is open in this contest, and I had this random thought today, which I had to share. All apologies to fans of Thranduil. I *am* a fan of Thranduil, and Movie!Thranduil ROCKS ASS. He is one of the best best BESTEST things about the Hobbit movies. For reals. 


In the matchup of Galadriel versus Thranduil, my brain immediately popped out: “Galadriel versus Thranduil? She would smack him down LIKE A BITCH.” Because I’m sorry, amazing warrior or no, Galadriel is Galadriel. And that is just that.

(This, of course, leaves aside the whole question of “would she?” — which is why I don’t think Gandalf *would* actually defeat Luthien Tinuviel, even in a March Madness bracket. I think he would simply walk into the arena, look at her, and bow for the coup de grâce. He is an amazing character, but part of what makes him amazing is his capacity to choose his fight, and I think he would choose a noble defeat. <3 )

Cough. Anyway. There ya go. 

Nothing To Do With Anything, Really

…Except that this came up in someone else’s blog comments and for some reason I feel compelled to share it. In hopes that you’ll have a laugh, as I did, I suppose. :}

I was just thinking I’d like to see Richard Armitage do a movie where he gets on a trampoline.

OK, no, hear me out. It’s not about the bits and bobs, because – as a wielder of large bosoms (and I accidentally typed that as “bisons”, so bwahahahahahahaahha oops) THAT HURTS, so SAFETY HARNESSES, people – but he seems to be a gentle and occasionally lighthearted fellow in real life. Serious and intent when it comes to work, yes; but capable of great humor and charm. Wonderful laugh we’d all like to see more of.

Also, he’s rangy and gorgeous. Well-coordinated. He’s sex on a stick. It’s just the truth.

Last but not least, he has a penchant for playing characters in grim situations, or if he plays lovers, there tends to be a dark side. That dark side, man. Except!!!! Except for Lovely Lovely Harry Kennedy, the character I would probably most want to fall into bed with (and possibly take for a walk like Geraldine, sigh and swoon and also lol).

Imagine Harry Kennedy (OK, you can put him in a barely-there bikini if you *must*, I’ll have him in whatever Harry would prefer wearing… secretly hoping he’s just rolled out of my bed and put on flannel pj bottoms, personally) jumping on a trampoline. Again, since this is my script, he’s so happy with the fantastic shag(s) that he had to express his joy, and the trampoline just happened to be there.

Oh well. Since Harry doesn’t seem to be coming back (domestic bliss forbids, we assume), Thorin seems only slightly more likely to jump on a trampoline than the Balrog (oooooh, imagine that, Flame of Udun! – Suddenly I’m having a Legend/Two Towers slash moment: “Hot Hornéd Beasts On Trampolines, Vol. 1″? Um…sorry) and John Porter…

OMG sorry. John Porter jumping on a trampoline was pure porn. I got stuck there for a minute. But that’s not gonna happen for terrible and horrible and character-related reasons.  (Still angry/sad about.)

Anyhoo. I have no coherent point in this post except to invite you to imagine the many characters of Richard Armitage jumping on trampolines. (Heinz Kruger gigglesnort)

And now I suppose I truly must go work on my taxes. UGH.

(boing … boing … boing … Harry, could you come help me with these taxes, dear? Or at least sit here with me while I do them? — Or at least move the trampoline in front of the window? … oh yes. Thank you, sweetheart.)

Imagination is a wonderful thing. ;)


Another day, another dollar, as they say. Work today was great fun, there are days where everything clicks and this was one. :}  Came home and watched the first episode of “Ripper Street” because MATTHEW McFADYEN, liked that; watched “Solomon Kane” because JAMES PUREFOY, and that was ok.

Trying to figure out why I wake up every morning feeling like I’m already running late, like I’m already behind. Have this terrible feeling of doom hanging over me, like there’s something terribly important left undone, but I *think* I’m doing ok in the work accomplishments department — I’m actually rocking butt there a bit — the house isn’t tidy, but it isn’t a terrible mess either. It’s within striking distance of clean. Pretty up to date on laundry and groceries. Taxes are getting handled. Bills are under control for the month. … ????? WHAT ARE YOU, O FEELING OF MOUNTING PRESSURE?

It’s starting to wake me up in the middle of the night as well, which is just vexing, as there’s nothing I can do until I remember what I need to do. :\

In any case, I’ve spent some time muting myself. I’ve taken down as many of the posts on my divorce and non-family personal relationships as I could find as of last night; I wish I could say I had a big book deal or something delicious like that in the offing, but I basically just woke in a cold sweat and realized how exposed I’d left myself. So I took it all down.

Yes, it’s cowardice. Perhaps I’m a coward. What I think will be happening is that I’ll be polishing and reposting selected items, or maybe I’ll put them all back up, but under a password. But I’m just tired of worrying that someone’s going to find it from my real life – the whole purpose of this blog was to give me a fresh, guilt-free, shame-free place to vent, and if real life comes here, that will be so over. Especially as I was a bit unhinged (I think that’s a good word for it) for part of last year and this year… So down it had to come. It’s not like I was particularly clever in “hiding” this blog, anyway… So we start over. :}

There will be more, and it will still be about that stuff, especially as (which please, let it be soon) I start dating and coming out of my self-imposed coccoon, and it will be honest; but from here on, it’ll be written with the knowledge that real life may come reading at any moment, and that is important. xo