The Quiet House

It was interesting, hearing my boyfriend talk about one night when  I fell asleep in his arms. He described it as holding someone in a total state of tenseness. And, little by little, limb by limb, my body slowly relaxed until he knew I'd finally drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

I remember the feel of him, pressed up against me - warmth and safety wrapped around me with arms and legs in a calm, quiet strength. I could feel his breath on my neck, and as I listened to him breathe, I remember feeling my body slowly let go of whatever it was still clinging to.

Nearly a month later, I had lunch with a friend. We talked about what it was like to go to bed at night when we were kids. I don't even know how the subject came up but it did. We came from vastly different backgrounds yet had similar memories of feeling a heightened sense of insecurity. 

In my house, it wasn't that I feared for bodily harm or violence. It was the palpable silence, the quiet in my house that I felt deep in my core.

You see, I grew up around a lot of quiet. A lot of silence. A lot of tense moments, strung together so often that it felt normal. And I learned to live in the silence, even as much as I couldn't embrace it. 

By the time I have really any memories of my parents, they were already unhappy in their marriage. 

My dad was incredibly unhappy at his job. 

My mom was trying to earn her college degree and balance being a present parent.

My brother struggled with depression. 

I lived in a house that was simply unsettled. The kind of quiet that feels heavy. All the time. And the only time the quiet is ever broken is the random argument or disagreement between parents or kids or parents and their kids. 

Sure, we took vacations, we ate dinner together, we went fishing and sailing. But even in all of those memories, there's mostly just quiet. Not a calm quiet, a tense quiet. 

This is what I remember the most about growing up in my house. Don't rock the boat. Don't do the wrong thing. Do your best. Don't ask for more than you need. Be good. Don't share your feelings or your emotions. Just. Be. Happy.

I know it probably wasn't always that way. It is, however, what I remember the most about our day to day lives. And then it's no surprise that I learned to fall asleep with every muscle in my body as tight as it could be. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

As an adult, I found myself in a 22 year relationship (20 of those married) with a very kind man. I can't, and won't, disparage his character - there is nothing to disparage. It takes two people to make a relationship work, just as much as it takes two to make it not work. I own my part in the ending of things.

Both of us came into the union with our own baggage, our own hurts, and our own communication styles. And as I reflect back on those 22 years, now I see that I sought out a partner that gave me what felt familiar: silence. 

I was well accustomed to not asking for what I needed by the time we got married, and due to his experiences he was also used to the silence too. Years upon years piled on, the silent stretches grew longer and more frequent. 

The familiar, yet unsettling feeling of sitting in that silence and knowing in my core that something was wrong, someone wasn't happy, someone was upset or angry or didn't want to talk to me settled deep into my bones becoming its own kind of marrow, refusing to leave and becoming a part of me like my brown hair, freckles and gangly limbs.

I find myself now looking back on a lot of my formative years, trying to understand the woman I've become. Outwardly, I appear to be a strong, competent, confident woman. And I am. Yet, on the inside, I'm still a little girl. I still wish everyone could get along. That I could make everyone happy. 

And even still today, I fear, more than anything else, the soul-crushing, eerie, yet thunderous sound of silence.

It is probably one of the hardest parts for me about dating in my 50's, and probably, in dating me. I need more checking in and communication than a normal person should. 

I've been blessed with an overthinking brain and an incredibly overactive imagination. Coupled with everything else I've disclosed, it's a recipe for extreme anxiety. I tend to over-analyze every conversation, every date, every text when the silence closes in around me. 

And, when I don't hear from my boyfriend for a day or two (which is not unusual with his incredibly busy and demanding grind of a work schedule) every self doubt I have, every silence filled moment, every deeply hidden yet waiting in the wings belief that I have that I'm unlovable floods my brain. 

I worry that maybe I said the wrong thing and he's upset. I think maybe my neediness is too much. I start to believe that he's going to walk away.

Because that is what 50 years of living in the silence has taught me: silence means something is wrong. Even much as the silence feels familiar, I'm no longer willing or able to live in it. 

As I slowly reveal some of the more jagged edges of issues, my boyfriend has taken it all in stride. He continues to show up, with empathy and grace. 

From the first time we met when I played one of my "crazy" cards, as I call them, he showed up. 

As I drove away from our first date, a long walk on the greenbelt beside the river, the smell of fresh rain and cottonwoods surrounding us, I heard that little girl inside of me whisper quietly and cutting through my fearful, overthinking silence "he was the calm in your storm today." 

I don't have a crystal ball to know what my future holds, with my relationship or my job or anything else for that matter. But what I do know is that I am learning more about myself through all of this. 

And I am (slowly) learning how to sit in the stormy silence just as much as I am slowly learning to share what I need with someone I trust to meet me halfway.

I hope someday I can start to trust the silence too, to quiet my soul and just breathe in the gratitude I feel for a life well-lived and for the incredible circle of people that surround me every day. 

But for now, I'm going to embrace progress, not perfection (something else my boyfriend once remarked) and appreciate that I will, always and forever be, a work in progress.

And I will learn to sit in the silence and trust that it doesn't always mean something is wrong.

Maude vs the bullies from sixth grade

 Dear 12-year-old self,

I know that you’ve been struggling with something for a long time. And you carry this thing well into your adulthood. In fact, this is 50-year-old you writing a long overdue love letter to yourself when you really needed it the most.

I know that for most of your formative years, you felt different than everyone else. That difference mostly manifested itself in your outward appearance. It started early in grade school with comments about your height and your weight – tall and thin. And then the universe saw fit to cover you with freckles.

And as you got a little older, the bullies got a little bolder. Then, in the sixth grade your classmates felt so incredibly awful about themselves that they chose to target you. They called you Rover. Said you were uglier than a dog. They barked at you. And you lived with that for most of that year and then carried it with you for the next 38.

And when you needed it the most, there was no one to help. No one to stand up for you. That year, one of the worst, you asked for help. “They are just teasing” was the adult response. There’s a massive difference between teasing and bullying, and you were bullied and didn’t have the words to understand or ask for support. And so you let it happen and lived with it. And you still do.

Even today you describe your appearance as tall, gangly, freckled and the human equivalent of a giraffe. You are so much more than that. But, to be fair, giraffes are pretty cool.

By the time you got to junior high, Rover disappeared and nicknames like Stretch and a Pirate’s Dream (sunken chest, how clever of you stupid boys) became the norm. You never felt cute or pretty and people made fun of you and your last name and reinforced this notion that you are ugly. All these things you’ve carried with you no matter how outwardly confident you might seem, inside you’ve always felt less than.

Thirty years later, your incredible daughter was faced with the same thing at the same age. So I’m going to tell you what you needed to hear when you were 12, and the words I said to her: “You are tall, thin, smart, funny as hell, kind and beautiful. And you are everything they are never going to be. That is why they picked you to hate. You are everything. They are nothing.”

You needed someone to say that, not dismiss those hateful and mean words as mere teasing or my always favorite “kids will be kids”. Words matter. Words. Matter.

And I wish with all that I am that you could see the woman you’ve become so that you don’t carry those words and experiences with you for 38 more years. I wish I could give you a big hug, tuck you in and hold you tight so you felt safe. I’d tell you you’re beautiful inside and out. I wish you could see yourself the way others see you now.

I wish you could, even now at age 50, believe that you are beautiful. But your beauty is more than just what’s on the outside. You are funny as hell, you are adventurous, brave, kind, smart, successful, athletic (yes, this does eventually happen to you!) and you are also beautiful in your own wavy hair freckle-faced brown eyed way.

It will take some time to undo those thoughts and those memories, but this is a start. Be kind to yourself. Be proud of yourself. Remember what you’ve overcome and that you are a total badass. And, someday, I hope when someone tells you that you're beautiful that you finally believe it. You are, inside and out.

Please remember to love yourself.

Love,

Yourself

 

Maude VS Eat, Pray, Love

I am about to embark on another huge adventure. Probably the biggest adventure of my 50 trips around the sun: I am taking a solo trip to Italy for 2.5 weeks and I could not possibly be more excited.

Some people have asked me if I am nervous or scared to go. That's the funny thing about being Maude: I'm rarely scared, and only occasionally nervous. I've jumped out of an airplane, gone bungee jumping & zip lining, and risked my life to save little sailboats on Lake Coeur d'Alene in my youth. I'm the crazy person in the front of the roller coaster and I have never, ever met a ride that put fear in my soul.

I can definitively say the one thing I'm scared of is being alone for the rest of my life, while at the same time I have zero desire to be in a relationship. That's the other funny thing about being Maude: I'm an enigma. Always an enigma. 

I am, however, learning to love my own company. I've done all kinds of things on the solo track this year and I know without a shadow of a doubt that traveling to a foreign country will be no different. Friends, this will be the first time in my life I will have ever stamped my passport. 

And I'm hoping this is not a one and done. To be honest, I've always had a wandering heart. A desire to see the world. Soak up some history. See things I've only read about in books. So here I am. And thanks to a shitload of miles due to COVID and no travel, I can finally make this happen.

Two and a half weeks of travel time. Time to think. To process. Evaluate and re-evaluate what I want to do and who I want to be. Many of my friends have asked me if this is my eat, pray, love adventure. I laughed it off at first but as I thought about it, it really kind of is.

I will eat and drink (sooo much amazing wine) my way through all of central and southern Italy. I cannot wait to sit in a café somewhere with espresso and my laptop and tell some stories that have been living in my brain for way too long. 

It will be incredible to taste REAL limoncello, authentic and locally made olive oil, all the prosecco my liver can process and figure out how in the hell to avoid gluten in Italy. 

I will pray. I imagine I'll pray a lot: on the flight that I make it safely. On the country roads in the little Fiat I rented, on the cliffs, in the city of Rome, on the canals of Venice and I imagine, even though I no longer practice Catholicism, I'll visit a few old churches and reconnect with my faith in God, outside of the constructs of being Catholic. 

I do envision a lot of praying not to die as I drive a tiny car on back roads in a country I've never been to.

And love. What is that going to be? I'm not looking for love with anyone but myself. I hope, I pray (and I'll eat a few meals while I manifest this thing) that I will learn to love myself. My imperfect, loud, inappropriate, funny at times, occasionally brilliant but mostly average, tall, freckle-faced, gray haired and wrinkled self. 

I don't know if I ever have loved myself fully and completely. I've spent most of my 50 years wishing I were different somehow, better than I am, shorter, skinnier, more athletic, less of a misfit, more successful, funnier, quieter, less freckled, more confident and less of a screw up than what I see when I look in the mirror.

I hope that I will come home with more love for myself for all of my imperfections and all of my mistakes. And for all the things that truly make me who I am.

And I hope that when I come home I'll feel a little more like a whole person, maybe a little more like myself. I am still struggling to make sense of my life and how I got here and what I want for the rest of it. 

Italy may not have all the answers, but it sure has good food and wine and places to see. I really can't ask for more than that.

And, if I can love myself just enough...my future, no matter what it holds, will be wonderful.

Broken is still beautiful

The irony of my current situation is never lost on me. The irony is that as hard as I tried to not allow history to repeat itself, here I am: divorced, middle-aged with a teenager and a college kid, just like my parents. Knee-deep in a very busy career, just like my mom. Struggling to make sense of the end, just like my dad.

The thing I could not see through my own grief over the final ending of my parent’s marriage, a relationship that I knew most of my life was already over, was how hard it all was on my parents. Now I do.

I was 18 when my parents separated. My mom soon began to date Mike, who became my stepdad while I was in college, and eventually earned the title of bonus dad through his kindness to me. I can tell the story of the exact moment our relationship changed to one of deep respect and care, but that’s not the point of this story.

My dad also quickly moved on with one woman, and then a few months later to a new one who would become his life partner. I mistook the ease with which they seemingly transitioned into new relationships to mean that the divorce wasn't hard on them. In the middle of my own pain, which was (rightfully so) my focus, I could not begin to think that the life up-ending for all of us was difficult at best, nearly impossible at its worst, and heart-wrenching at its core. But it was all of those things to all of us.

In the end, both of my parents found themselves with partners who, in many ways, were very broken. No one ends a 25 (or in my case 20) year marriage without some collateral damage. Hell, any marriage, regardless of its tenure will generate emotional damage for both parties. It can be both our brokenness that leads to the end and why and how we choose the partners we do for that new beginning.

Neither of my parent's second relationships was perfect. No relationship is ever perfect, and both of my parents stayed with their “other” until either they or the “other” passed away. I learned by watching these three relationships, my parents’ marriage to each other, and then their time with their “others” that relationships take work.

Sometimes no matter how much work you put in, there is no fix. And sometimes, even though the relationship isn’t perfect people can make it through until the “death do us part thing.” I’m not sure if that is my future or my direction. And I’m not sure I really care. I am still broken. And I always will be. And that is OK.

Broken is beautiful, and here’s my story about that: once upon a time, my mom and bonus dad took a trip to Europe. In fact, they traveled so frequently they may have been to Europe more than once, but I remember this particular story very clearly.

While in Morocco, my mom found a big bowl that had a pretty design that she loved. It was ceramic and therefore quite fragile, but she was confident she could get it home safely. It was decided that they could carry the bowl onto the plane and keep it safe. It was left in an overhead bin on every leg. And it almost made it home until they reached the final flight. A passenger who had no idea what was in the plastic bag shoved his carry-on into the bin and my mom said she heard the bowl shatter and knew it wasn’t going to be fixable.

When they finally landed my mom grabbed the bag and the bowl was in pieces, and her heart was almost as broken as the bowl. It was something she thought would remind her of this wonderful trip with Mike, which was fortuitous as just a few years later his own memory would fade, and he would eventually be diagnosed with Lewy Bodies Dementia.

Mike, my bonus dad, knew how much the bowl meant to my mom. It was broken, so broken, completely beyond repair. But, unbeknownst to my mom, he glued it back together piece by piece. The bowl was unusable, but it was transformed from a broken bowl into something beautiful enough that he could take to a ceramic store and attempt to recreate the design. 

The bowl he painted was a little different than the one they brought home, a slightly different shape than the original, but even more special than the one they bought.

That’s what happens when we are broken. Eventually, we glue ourselves back together. 

We don’t know how all the pieces will fit, but we do our best to make it work. 

And, in the end, we aren’t the same. But we end up being beautiful in our own way, better than we were before and sometimes we become the inspiration for something or someone else.

Broken is beautiful. It always will be.

Maude VS 50 First Dates

OK maybe not quite 50 first dates yet. I'm not even sure how many. I am not counting. But it kind of feels like it. At first, it wasn't any fun. But now that I'm in therapy (oh yes, you read that right) I have an entirely new outlook on this whole crazy process.

The dates? It really isn't worth dissecting them one by one. But I've learned some stuff and there's some stuff I wish I could tell my dates. Mostly I have learned a great deal about myself.

What have I learned? While "online" dating is weird and backward to me, the end result is still the same as it was before: you may or may not feel a connection. Your date may or may not feel a connection. One of you might and the other one might not. That's the most common outcome. But when you both do, I can only imagine how cool that will be. Not sure that's happened just yet. But that is also really OK.

And this dating thing isn't all that different than before, but instead of meeting in a bar or a frat party, you've at least got some biographical information (and a few photos) that you can use to weed out those you would not be interested in and prioritize those that meet your criteria. It's sort of an efficiency thing. You get a chance to chat first online and TRUST ME friends, you'll be able to weed out the weirdos INSTANTLY via chat. Saves some awkwardness at the bar...

And, the good news too, is, unless you're swiping left or right after a few glasses of wine, you don't have those old beer goggles on before the date. Better yet, if you match you can review their info before the date and if you're going on more than one date, it helps you keep all the suitors straight. I mean, not that I would know or anything...

See? Look at me and my whole new attitude about online dating. It is actually getting to be fun. I have ZERO expectations. The bar was set low from the jump (read previous post about polyamorous dude with a ten month old) so as long as I'm keeping my attitude and expectations in check, I think I'll continue to (BIG GASP) enjoy this whole thing.

Therapy has definitely taught me a few things. First of all, I just need to look at this as a fun thing. Just fun. I'm not going to meet "that someone" anytime soon. It took most of my twenties to find my first husband (well, my only one actually) so it's not going to be like I snap my fingers, and there he is. It will take time.

And I'm getting to be OK with that. I am still a bit of a mess. I am feeling all kinds of feels that I had not allowed myself to feel before. Getting all these (gross) feelings out of my body and into my therapists' ears for her to listen, dissect and then comment on has been cathartic and healing.

I learned I'm still very angry and I may have some Daddy issues. Who doesn't? Anyhoo...

I do know for sure that I am not ready for a Serious Relationship. I am good to build friendships, maybe date someone and get to know them, but I have a truckload of issues to work through and until I do, there will likely be some pretty big roadblocks in the way for me to even attempt a "healthy relationship" and yes, I am using air quotes because I am not really sure it's a real thing. But I'm hopeful.

Things I wish I could tell some of the dates I've been on range from "I have survived cancer and a divorce, so you being not interested in me is OK, just tell me" to "it is OK to allow a woman to pay for her own stuff and you should not mind if she pays for yours too" and my personal favorite "if what I do for a living bothers you, we aren't a match".

I have been on some interesting dates, one guy was on the autism spectrum and was probably one of my favorites because he was fascinating to talk to. 

One of the best was a guy who was (mom! cover your eyes) super super super fit and hot. I mean - SMOKING hot. He says he wants to date but I'm not stupid and when you don't hear from someone, you kind of know. But it's OK - I think he liked himself way more than anyone else (CrossFit dudes - kind of its own religion). But talk about chemistry. Best hug at the end of the date. Wow. Maude was a little hot and bothered, in a good kind of way.

One of the worst was someone who DID NOT LOOK LIKE THEIR PROFILE PICS AND LIED ABOUT HOW TALL THEY WERE. That's all I'm saying, just gonna leave that right there.

It's been an interesting mixed bag of a journey. I feel no pressure or sense of urgency. I care less about second dates and more about meaningful connections, for which I can't say there have been any yet. Well, there is one. But jury is still out. Stay tuned - nickname: silver fox

I've still got my MBA to finish (getting VERY close), a new job to learn, a kid to get off to college and life is really pretty full right now. Would I like to have someone in it? Sure, but it will take a good long time and definitely 50 first dates for me to get comfortable and ready for something more.

In the meantime, I'll keep swiping left or right, meeting new people, making new friends and continuing to grow as a human and learn more about myself so I can be a better version for the next guy. And, maybe there won't be one, and I'm getting to be OK with that idea too.

Maude VS Grief...finally

This is going to be a tough read. 

Today has been very hard. I have had some hard days in the past several weeks, but today was the toughest. Today was the day the grief dam broke. 

But, before I get to that, I need to start from the beginning. 

2021 was a shit year. I left a good job for a terrible one, my marriage ended, and before the year was up, I had a sinking feeling I was going to lose my terrible job (which I did).

To be brutally honest, in the past twelve years I've checked off nearly every adult rite of passage: death of a parent (two actually, my Dad and Bonus Dad), got cancer, got divorced, and lost my job. These things tend to happen in waves, much like grief.

But I am an avoider. A total avoider - I am an "I'm OK" and "I'll be OK" person. I'm not a dweller on things. I'm not a processor of experiences. Things happen, I might cry for a bit, write a blog or two, start cracking jokes and move on. 

I came to recognize today that I tend to fill my life with things to plug the hole so that grief can stay stuck inside, deep in a place that I hope to keep safe, so it doesn't well up and make me feel all the feels. 

But until today I didn't see that was my way. 

I really, truly, and emphatically believed that I was OK. That I didn't need to just take a moment and wallow in the sadness. More than a moment- I didn't want to take any TIME. Some actual goddamned time to just feel it. Own it. Process it. Deal with it. 

But I should have.

So today, the dam broke. And the trigger was something related to my marriage but what it triggered was years of grief.

Grief has washed over me today - wave, after wave, after wave like the ocean relentlessly pounding a piece of driftwood against a rock.

When my Dad died, I started reading the Jason Bourne book series as an escape. Then I started drinking more, as an escape. I ate comfort food, as an escape.

I realized that those things were sending me to an early grave like my Dad, so I poured myself into getting healthy and in shape. Exercise became an escape. Obsessing about every calorie ever consumed became an escape. Running races and doing triathlons were an escape.

Then I got cancer and then...I survived it. Exercise, healthy living, and making funny jokes about having cancer on my blog became my escape. Starting a nonprofit became my escape. 

I lost every part of my womanhood in that battle, and I swore I was OK. That I didn't need to grieve. Oh, but I did. Yet I managed to push that grief down so deep that I almost forgot it was ever even there.

Then my marriage ended. Redecorating my house became my escape. Fixing my yard became an escape. Spending time with friends when I was alone became my escape. Starting my MBA (while for career purposes for sure) became an escape.

Then I lost my job. I was alone, sad, angry, terrified, frustrated, and embarrassed. I decided to start dating or try to anyway because I didn't want to be alone. And that was another escape. I filled my time with chats, dates, hangouts, and more. All it was really, was an escape from facing the very thing I didn't want to: needing to grieve so much loss.

It is important to this story to note that I met someone in the process of dating, early on. I hadn't felt that way about anyone in 22 years. 

But, he knew, in fact, he told me from the very beginning, that I needed to dwell on my sadness and grief. But I didn't believe him. In typical Maude-style I continued to try to convince myself that I didn't need to be sad. That I'd always created a space to be sad, feel grief, and process losses. But I don't, actually, do those things well or at all.

And he knew. In a very short period of time, this man knows me better than almost anyone else. And God bless him for keeping me in the friend zone. He is most certainly one of the best people I have met in a long time.

I put a lot on him, while in many ways he's still grieving some things of his own. And today I've spent the better part of it crying so hard my chest hurts and I cannot even breathe sometimes. Sobbing and catching my breath and sobbing some more.

And some of those tears are for him because I think I may have lost him as my friend. 

But the lion's share of my tears is grief over many personal losses over the years, plain and simple. But the most recent one I've been avoiding is the crushing loss of a 20-year marriage.

Part of my day today was spent in the car, with my kids, on a day trip. Once again, as the heaviness of the grief I was trying to avoid bore down on me today so much that I didn't think I could carry it, I decided to escape. We piled in the car and took off. And during those five hours, I was fine. 

But the minute I stepped foot back in my house, the grieving started again. I can't stop it now. I vacillate between sobbing, sniffling, crying, and moments of peace. Rinse and repeat. But I don't actually feel like I want to avoid the grief anymore. There's more crying than peace, but as the grieving stretches out, the peace lasts a little longer.

This is hard y'all. I hate crying. And I hate being vulnerable.

And, I really hate being alone. But these seem to be the things I need to do so that I can truly and finally grieve and not keep finding ways to avoid the hard parts, the jagged parts, the tough to swallow pill parts. 

I just need to let it go. I don't know how long it will take, and if you know me that's the worst part. I can't schedule it, pencil it in, anticipate it or plan for it.

It just is. 

And so I need to just be.

Maude VS Turning 50 and the "apocalist"

Well friends it has certainly been an eventful month for me! I started my new position and kept one foot in the dating pool with Coffee Shop Guy (date #3 from my most recent post). 

Unfortunately, that did not work out too well which makes me a little sad. In the end, I got friend-zoned, however I do hope that we will truly remain friends, even after I was kind of an a**hole about the situation. But that story is for another post.

This post is the reality check I got this week, the realization that I am turning 50 in a little over 6 months. A friend asked me how I felt about it and I'm really OK with it. Honestly. Just in case I wasn't though she recommended I make a 49 "apocalist" (like apocalypse! ha!) of 49 things I want to do before I hit that major mid-life milestone.

I thought about things I want to do that are just for me, things I can do with my children to make some memories and things I can do with my friends.  Some are big things, some are small, some are already planned and some I may not ever get to do. But, I'll give it all I've got just the same.

Here is my list (there may or may not have been some wine involved - but I'll never tell) in no particular order:

1. Run another marathon 
2. Get a pedicure 
3. Take a solo weekend trip to a yurt or cabin- just me, my rescue pup and an a**ton of wine
4. Renew my passport
5. Finish my MBA (if I stop writing this blog today maybe I can put a dent in it!) 
6. Kiss someone new (I may just have to grab some rando at a bar to make this happen...after I drink a lot of wine) 
7. Hike Table Rock 
8. Get up early and on purpose to watch the sunrise from someplace epic
9. Paddleboard at Quinn’s Pond
10. Get another tattoo
11. Sleep outside under the stars
12. Sail a boat again
13. Go to the Flying M and work on my book and drink coffee until I'm so jittery I can't see straight
14. Reconnect with an old boyfriend (no clue which one of many but it would be fun to catch up and reminisce I’m sure!) or maybe even just someone from growing up that I haven't seen or talked to in a long time. Either way. 
15. Go back to Camp Sweyolakan on Lake Coeur d'Alene 
16. Go wine tasting in Walla Walla 
17. Go country swing dancing again (after some wine)
18. Watch the sunset somewhere cool from the back of a truck bed. With wine.
19. Skinny dip (with or without wine)
20. Get a massage
21. Take a golf lesson (or lessons so I don't look like an idiot on the driving range)
22. Golf nine holes (like a real nine, not the mini-kind) with out without wine involved 
23. Take a flight lesson (no wine, but maybe after...)
24. Take each kid on an overnight getaway just the two of us
25. Go to some hot springs 
26. Get a facial 
27. Sleep in on a Saturday just because I can
28. Finish my book and get it published
29. Fly fish (again) - it has been awhile and land a monster! 
30. Hike up to Blackmon Peak and make another makeshift memorial for my Dad up there
31. Go on river rafting day trip with the kids 
32. Join a wine club and then cancel my membership because I have too much wine 
33. Shop the Boise Farmer's Market on a warm Saturday morning & buy stuff to make dinner for friends that evening
34. Listen to live music, outdoors somewhere
35. Sit on a beach somewhere, toes in the sand & wine in my hand and watch the sunset (lake, ocean, river, doesn't matter)
36. Go bowling with the kids
37. Go to a movie with the kids 
38. Go on a camping adventure with the kids 
39. Read a trashy novel
40. Take a nap in a hammock
41. Read a trashy novel while laying in a hammock
42. Get my dog to go out on the paddleboard with me
43. Get some amazing food from a really good food truck 
44. Plan a trip somewhere in the future that requires the use of my renewed passport
45. Go rock climbing (preferable outdoor but if all else fails I'll hit an indoor gym)
46. Spur of the moment drive to Shoshone Falls just to see its majestic beauty 
47. Finish my yard/outdoor living space and spend lots of time with friends out there this summer
48. Celebrate ten years of being cancer free 
49. Have an epic 50th birthday celebration just the way I want to do it. TBD. But there will for sure be some wine involved. 

That's it. That is the list. I'm printing it and putting it in my office so I can look at it and check things off! 

Many of these things will require a little help from my friends - so let me know if you're interested in joining me on any of these small adventures. While I'm learning to be OK doing things alone now, it's always more fun with friends. 

And wine. Do not forget the wine.

And dark chocolate.

Everything is better with wine and chocolate. And friends.

Maude VS the dating apps (yes, again) and being alone

I know I said I wasn't going to do the dating app thing, but I had one week left before I started my new job, and I just wanted to meet some people and see how it went. Oh....it went...

Also, I think I wanted to have an excuse not to work on my Econ class...another story for another day. I did enjoy the distraction though!

In all transparency, I have since paused both (yes, I was on two) dating apps for the time being. With my new job starting and still needing to finish my MBA I think I've got enough on my plate right now. 

Plus, this has been both an ego-boosting and ego-crushing experience and I don't have room for that kind of roller coaster right now!

In case you want to know, here's how the dates went:

Date #1: We met in a park. I sent his first and last name, photo and pin drop location where we met in case my body turned up in the river. He brought a surprise guest, his 10 month old son in a stroller. Then proceeded to tell me that he and his female partner have an arrangement. They are together (like TOGETHER together) and raising this little human as a couple. 

She has long term relationships with women outside of their relationship and he has long term relationships with women also. They never do anything as a foursome. (thank God? I don't know the proper sentiment here).

People, I cannot make this shit up. Let me be clear though, no judgement here. It is simply not my thing. Apparently my lack of interest in "ethical non-monogamy" makes him want me that much more.  Who knew?

And he was every bit as adorable as his photos on the app, and we get along REALLY WELL. So that also frustrates me a little bit but I cannot share my person with another person. Just....ew. For me, anyway.

Date #2: We went to dinner at an expensive restaurant. I tried to steer him this one to a coffee date so I wouldn't have to explain all my food issues but he was not having it. So, expensive dinner it was. I also made it clear when we set up the date that I would pay for my own meal. He was a little shocked but went along with it. He was actually pretty impressed, more on that later.

I got there early and he was already at the table. We had a lovely evening, and he is very nice. I actually know who he is, he's kind of known around the area. He checks a lot of boxes: handsome, successful, athletic and well-traveled (in the good kind of way). However, most of the evening we talked about HIM. 

His houses, his travels, his business, and his financial security. The worst part was, clearly he's brought many a date to the same place. The servers knew him by name and he mentioned (more than once) to all of them that I was the splitting the check with him and wasn't it great that I was the first woman to offer? I was a little teeny bit embarrassed!! SOOOOOO awkward.

To be honest, I didn't know him personally before this so why would I expect him to buy my dinner? And, I've got my own money AND I didn't want to feel like I owed him anything. 

The other weird thing, (again noting that he's probably taken many dates here before), is that there was a PARADE of women walking by the table and saying hello to him over and over. All of them I can describe like this: blonde, coiffed, make up done, designer clothes and oozing elegance.

Then, there's me: my hair looks like I just walked in off the beach at the Oregon coast, I am wearing barely any make up (have almost forgotten how to put it on during COVID times), hand-me-down jeans from my daughter and a blouse I bought for $5 at Ross. I could not have been more different and out of place. To be honest, I'm really OK with that. He's not my person, I knew that right away. 

The bottom line is, I don't care about wealth. What I really care about is what is in someone's head and in their heart. And I did not get to see that.

Date #3: This guy and I had been texting since Monday or Tuesday, I can't quite remember. He checked several boxes even before I met him: tall, handsome, sarcastic, good dad and reeeeeaaaalllly funny. So I was looking forward to our coffee meeting.

It did not disappoint! We chatted for about 3 hours, he was pretty much everything I thought he would be except he had kind of a squishy dad bod. Skinny but squishy. I mentioned this to a couple of friends who then reminded me that I'm pushing 50 and chances are better than average that almost ANYONE I might go out with at this age will probably have a squishy dad bod. Dang it! I guess I have to cross that off my list of things I don't want because otherwise that most assuredly means I'll end up alone. 

But I digress, I really don't want to talk about his dad bod...

Side note, I also heard through the grapevine that he's apparently really good in bed. Noted in case I ever need a good shag (I hope my mother isn't reading this).

I will tell you this though, my outfit was ON POINT. I looked better than most days (especially the last two years worth of days). I even dressed up a little, my hair was behaving, the jeans made my ass look pretty good....and we sat on a couch together. 

We also had a BIG LONG LINGERING HUG when we said goodbye and then - hardly a word since we met. I am so clueless. I thought the conversation was great, we seemed to have chemistry and had a decent amount in common. So WTH?

I am a f**king treasure according to one of my college friends. What's not to like about me? I'm also funny as hell, and I think for someone who is 49 I look OK and I am professionally pretty successful (one month unemployed aside) so I cannot for the life of me understand why he wouldn't be interested. But, clearly he is not. So I basically kind of got ghosted. 

If I'm being honest though, I might just be a tad out of his league. 

I had date #4 lined up for this weekend, but I canceled it in the end. I don't think I am actually ready to do any of this. I want to, but I am not ready. This third date was particularly hard on my already fragile ego. I think I need to do some work on myself (emotionally) before I get back on that horse. But, I did learn that I am OK with meeting new people. I am OK going on a date again. And I will be OK putting myself out there, baby steps. One at a time.

I am OK. That's what I do know for sure. And OK is good enough for me right now.

There's a lot of stuff out there that makes this process hard, brutal, ego-crushing and scary. I think in this moment, I need to offer myself a little grace and just make some peace with being alone for awhile.

While I'm not totally alone, I have the kids and my family and friends to support me, at the end of the day (literally) I am truly alone. It can just be hard when you don't have a partner. 

For me, tonight is the night before one of the most amazing adventures of my life: starting a new job that is the most incredible professional opportunity EVER. 

And it's a little sad, sitting here getting my first day on the job outfit all picked out, and pre-packing my snack bag with no one to talk to.

What would make this better is having someone to share all this with - all the excitement, insecurities, the crushing anxiety that I feel and the anticipation of starting a new job in the most awesome organization. 

But tonight, I am a little lonely. Tonight I feel every bit as alone as I ever have. I am sad not being able to talk through all of this with a partner. It's hard. Really hard. 

All of this will get better, I know this to be true. I also know that this aloneness is the thing I need right now. It's the only way I'll ever really be able to appreciate it if and when I do find a true partner in this life. I need to be at peace with being alone a little while longer.

I find it all so ironic - if you know me, you know that I'm a pretty strong lady. I can handle a lot. I am independent. I'm a badass. I can do anything I put my mind to. But this being alone is tougher than I ever imagined it would be. I'll get through it. I'm in no rush to find someone.

I sure as hell don't think I will find someone on these damn dating apps, that much I am sure. 

Without question, life is an adventure. Always has been...always will be. I look forward to seeing how this one unfolds...

Maude VS accidentally texting the wrong person and putting herself "out there" (sort of) maybe??

 Yes, long title. I'm aware. But, it truly encapsulates my morning. OMG. 

This story almost starts out like my grandma saying "back in my day we didn't have smart phones and you had to ride your horse down the dirt road uphill both ways in a blinding snow storm to talk to a boy you liked instead of sending a text".

26+ years ago when I was in the dating world, there were no smart phones. If texting had been invented, no one was doing it. We talked to people using a LANDLINE and if we were lucky we had caller ID on the phone and/or an answering machine in case we missed the call.

We. Did. Not. Text.  And for that I am thankful. 

Especially since I was known for juggling a guy or two (or three) back in my hey day (before children, stretch marks, gray hair and wrinkles) so this would have been a DISASTER for me.

Turns out, it IS a disaster for me, even with one man.  

Trust me, you're going to want to read this WHOOOOOOOOOOLE post - it's a good one. I hope you go into your weekend with a good laugh. I will be buying a GIANT bottle of wine to console myself...

To catch you up, last week with "football game guy" after our phone call, I left it that I'd reach out and let him know the organization where I landed. 

This morning I sent a funny text to see if he had time to chat today.  In a past conversation he told me his kids had gone to my high school, so I sent him this photo and accompanying text:

About 45 minutes later, he responds and I responded back an hour later to him:

I actually know he is really busy so I was 50/50 on how this made me feel. I decided that maybe I should seek the counsel of one of my single friends in the area and get her take. 

Thus, I texted her: 

But, it wasn't her......ERMAGHERD...it. was. HIM.

Weeellllll.........s##t....

So then I think, he must know I was talking about him. And, I'm pretty up front and straightforward (in other words I'd rather be honest than cover up with a lie) so I reply:

And then he replied, which wasn't an out and out denial:

What do I even DO with that response????!!!!!

I decide that I'll reach out at the end of the day, play it cool and suggest trivia night with friends so he can meet new people or something easy and non-specific but at least putting myself out there a little more.

But friends...it gets WORSE!!! 20 minutes later I get this text from him:

OMG. I reply:

He says "I'll give you a shout later." Very nonspecific. 

And "if you want more friends here I am open to that too" is also, NONSPECIFIC.  Although, to be fair it's probably better to lead with "let's be friends" than "I want to make out with you"...

I do not think I made it clear to him at all that I'd be interested as more than friends, however it is VERY clear I am just terrible with texting. 

He may not even have any sort of clue what the heck I am trying to get at, me thinking I am direct is being REEALLY indirect. 

INSERT SLAPPING MY FOREHEAD EMOJI HERE.

So now I am totally gun-shy on texting ANYONE at this point and I changed his contact name to the following so that if/when I text someone I will be damn sure I'm NOT texting HIM something I don't want him to see:

So, that's it. It's a lot of nothing, but still pretty hilarious all the same. I think he literally has NO CLUE that I like him.

Only Maude would do something like text a guy for guy advice about the guy when she really meant to text a friend...SIGH.

My gut says he won't call, probably thinks I am total nut job. (I am) 

I think it's time for me to lose his number.

But, hey, at least I kind of sort of very inadvertently in a totally nonthreatening and nonspecific way put myself out there...right?

I will get it right if there is ever a next time. Ever.

I'll keep you posted...and PS I tested some other dating sites out (not to use them - I am confident that is not the direction I am ever comfortable going) to share some other helpful hints for any of my other single friends out there looking for love in a digital (mid-life) age!  

Buckle up - it will be quite a ride.

Maude VS Online Dating (again! OMG!) and a gross married dude

 Yep - I went there. Again. Online dating sites. I discovered that I can pop on, see if I like the app, see if there is anyone interesting and then delete the app if I'm not feeling it. For the record, I have YET to "feel it". I have yet to stay on an app for more than 30 minutes.

Online dating is not for me.

Let me break it down for you, app by app:

Our Time - supposedly the site for mature (over 50) adults. Once I got in there, it read like an advertisement for burial services. I am not even kidding. I think I lasted 30 minutes tops on that one. Not one single dude on there did NOT look like my grandpa. It was like a catalog of card carrying AARP members. And then I think to myself, these guys (not all but a lot of them) are MY AGE. Do I now look like my grandma too????  I peaced out on that shiz real quick.

Bumble - I tried this one because a friend recommended it. As the woman, I get to make the first move. I like that because I don't have to delete Creepy McCreepersons who make lewd comments on my pictures (or just clueless ones) like on Hinge. But, like some of the other apps you have to PAY $$ to see who "likes" you which is lame because I'm really not that invested in this whole online dating thing anyway. Like I'm going to pay money only to find out it's Chester the Molester gawking at my pics. I bounced pretty quickly on that one too.

Match.com - This was the third app of the evening in a span of about two hours. I liked the filters I could use to search and I also liked that there was a larger selection of men on there versus the other apps. But, once again, I was getting messages but unless I'm willing to pony up $19.99 I can't see who it was. The worst thing was...I saw someone I know. 

Yet again, someone who knows my kids' dad and HIS WHOLE FAMILY. (Different than the last one, but that guy was also on this app, too). And neither of these two guys are someone I WOULD EVER WANT TO DATE. 

I started to notice many familiar faces from app to app to app as well. I shut Match.com down as fast as I did the married guy that started messaging me on LinkedIn on Friday night. 

Guess I am not the only one who has used that site to try & hook up!!  OMG!

So the married guy. Let me just say this, I had been having a glass of wine or two so I didn't clue in right away what was happening until he asked me about lingerie and women in their 50's. Sobered me up quick. 

Let me break it down for you like this: 

1. I know he is married so that is a HAAAAARD pass 

2. He's like 13 years younger with school-age kiddos (and I'm therefore old enough to be his mother) 

AND

3. Not even if he were the last man on the planet. Period. 

I could not take enough showers this weekend to wash that filth off. I typed every barfing emoji to the friends I told about the situation to make it clear that I was grossed out. 

Someone asked if maybe I misinterpreted him. But when he asked me about women in their 50s and lingerie not only was I sure I wasn't misinterpreting things, but I then told him that women in our 50s are all sweat pants aaaallllll the time. I was just trying to throw water on that fire he was trying (completely unsuccessfully) to start.

And I thought to myself, is this what dating is going to be like now? With social media and smart phones am I going to be grossed out constantly?? I really think that the dating app thing is just NOT FOR ME. But then, how will I meet someone? I've got kids, a job that I'm learning and my MBA to finish. Where would I even find anyone?? I guess I'm cool with a set up as long as he comes with good references. And, I will check them.

22 years ago when I was dating and got married we did not have all this "new fangled technology" that I think emboldens total perverts to be extra gross. Then I wonder, were dudes always like this but I didn't know because it's easier to be nasty with a cell phone & a messaging app than to talk nasty to an actual person? 

I just don't know and I am totally unprepared for this new world in which I am living: single at almost 50 in a very digital age.

Oh, before I forget I also tried Tinder. Same dudes as all the other apps (with a few additional freaks thrown in and an ass-ton of acronyms and slang that I had to google).  Once again, I'd have to pay money to find out who "liked me", and once again, I'm just not that into online dating, or maybe just dating in general. 

I deleted Tinder too after seeing about the same dozen faces I'd seen on the other apps who meet my very narrow (apparently) criteria in a man. (once again, same two dudes that know my former husband and all of his family were on Tinder. I can't escape!!!)

I guess maybe I need to move out of state...

I also think, if I'm being honest, that I'm hoping that maybe "football game guy" might be someone I can hang with, though I am terrified of rejection. After getting a divorce, losing my job, and then interviewing for several jobs I'm not sure how much more rejection a girl can take! But, if you know me, you know we'll find out. When I want something, I go after it. 

The bottom line here friends is this: dating apps are not for me. They probably never will be. So, if you know someone tall, dark, handsome, single, and not gross keep me in mind. As I said, I'm cool with a setup. Or a meet-cute. Whatever, as long as there is no technology involved, I think I'm good.

Maude VS adversity

It's been a week. Well, it's been a month.  Check that, it's been a year. Hell, it's been a decade if I'm being honest. I won't list the "choose your own adventure" twist and turns of my last decade, many of you know me so you know what they are. What a ride, kids!

Everything came to a head at the end of January when I lost my job. In the span of less than 365 days I got a divorce and became unemployed. These items were not on my "before I turn 50 bucket list" but I can check them off now. And hey, I'm still standing! And on my own two feet, no less.

I am not even going to try to sugar-coat the last few weeks. Rough doesn't even begin to cover it. Rock bottom might be more accurate. I felt like I was there. Yet, I also knew I had a lot more to lose. So much more that, quite honestly, I'd started to take for granted. More on that later.

Maude has faced a LOT of adversity over the years, and each time she comes up swinging. She will fight, she will scrap, she will plot, she will take action, she will also cry, sob, spend sleepless nights worrying and live in total fear until everything works itself out the way that it should. It always works out. 

This time was no different. More on that later too.

I had many conversations with my kids about facing adversity throughout this process. Some people might say I shouldn't tell my children so much, but to me I'm not doing them favors if I don't take a little time to talk about adversity and that how we handle it says everything about who we are and what we're made of.

Did I break down? Many, many times. Did I pick myself back up? Over and over. And it got harder and harder. But, I picked myself back up and kept fighting forward. I wanted my kids to see this. I want them to know that we don't give up. We keep up the fight. We stare adversity down until it backs away slowly with its hands up.

There were days when I was so despondent, and it is hard to describe the pain I felt during those moments. But, miraculously there was almost always someone reaching out to me to check-in and see how I was doing. 

And many times those check-ins came from people from the way back time machine (high school!) or my River Discovery rafting trip in 2019 (COVID hit and I NEVER see those amazing humans). 

Just when I felt like I was at my lowest, there was someone there to pick me back up. Those of you who reached out, from the bottom of my little cold, black, shriveled up heart: THANK YOU. You will NEVER EVER know what it meant to me. I will never take my network for granted again. 

And for every person that checked in on me that was unexpected, there someone else I thought would care enough to make sure I was OK that didn't. That was hard. It was another powerful lesson in adversity, we are humans and we need to care about each other. Even when we might not know what do say. Say something, damnit.

Even if you are uncomfortable checking in on the divorced lady or the one who lost her job, know that your check-in will BE WELCOMED. Even if the ONLY thing you can ask is "are you ok?". These are such powerful words. 

If you're afraid that's all she'll talk about if you ask, you would also be wrong. She wants to focus on 8000 other things than the current state of her life. Trust me, you won't get wrapped into a hour-long conversation about how crappy things in her life are. She's been thinking about it nonstop, she needs a change of pace. Just ask. That's all you need to do. Remember these words: "are you ok". So. easy.

So what did I do when this all went down? I approached applying for work like it was my full-time job.  I also called and canceled 200 extra little subscriptions that I didn't need any more. 

I canceled my gym membership (I have a weight set and spin bike at home). 

I called the credit union to see if I could get a break on my car payment for a month or two. I was going to contact my mortgage company next. 

I put my car up for sale. 

I did not sit around and wait and hope that things would get better, I just went into business mode and took care of everything I thought I needed to.

I networked like my life depended on it! (remember a previous post where I reached out to someone I met once briefly from Spokane? THAT kind of networking). 

Thank you to everyone that was willing to help when I reached out to ask. I will return the favor 1000 times if you need me to.

An experience like this is life-changing. At least it has been for me. I took some things for granted - for example my network of people - how did I ever do enough so right in my life to have so many awesome people willing to help? I'll never know. I'll work until I die to repay the kindness I've been shown.

I took my house for granted. For a few weeks there, I thought I could lose it. I do this thing called "catastrophizing" (a term I am intimately familiar with thanks to my therapist years ago). 

What that means is I go from 0 to 60 thinking of a parade of horrible things that will happen as a result of the thing I'm experiencing. In this case: unemployment.

In my mind I went from gainfully employed to homeless, living with my mother, having lost my house, riding a bike everywhere and working at a strip club because no one else would hire me. 

I thought I would lose my house, my car, my kids: everything (listed in no particular order). When you sit back and take stock of what you do have when you think you could lose it, and I mean like really lose it not in a hypothetical kind of way, it's HUMBLING. But I think it was one of the best things to happen to me.

Now I appreciate things so much more, I DO know what I stand to lose and I know what I'm made of. I will fight, I won't give in, and I won't give up. I hope that is an example my kids will remember. They are young, they will face adversity over and over. They already have.

As you might have guessed at this point, I do have a new job. I start in March. I can't say where or what - there's background checks to be complete and I'm hoping they don't find any dead bodies in my checkered past. I have about 2 weeks left to do things I want to do, or maybe nothing at all. Who am I kidding? I've got a list a mile long. But, I plan to take it easy anyway.

A few final notes before I sign off this less than hilarious blog post. This time has also taught me a lesson I didn't think I wanted to learn: I don't want to do this life alone. I'm not ready to NOT do it alone right now, but I'll get there. I know I will. 

There is nothing lonelier than being scared and not having someone to share that with who can tell you everything is going to be all right. I don't know that I would ever have known I wanted someone around if not for this experience. On the plus side, starting a new job and finishing my MBA gives me PLENTY OF TIME to be ready. There's no rush! 

I've had many questions about "golf guy" and "football game guy" (they are the same person, just different references) and what happened when I called him. Nothing. Really, nothing at all. He was VERY nice, offered to help and he did, actually. 

He was willing to leverage his contacts to help some crazy mom with loose change and a couple of bucks that he met once in a line for a football game. He's my kind of person. 

That said, I don't think there's any interest on his side and that is OK too because I'm not ready yet. I sent him a text the other day to see if he had a minute to chat, I felt like I should thank him over the phone instead of an impersonal text for being so kind and willing to help a stranger.

He said he was traveling for work and his phone was dying and asked if he could call the next day after 10. He called right about 10:15am. I thanked him for being willing to help and let him know I found a local position. And offered to help him if I ever could. 

That was it. I told him I'd let him know where I will be working once it's OK to share. So, I think I will call him to tell him and see if he wants to hang out, ever.

We'll see what happens from there. Probably nothing at all. But I put myself out there and now I know I won't be afraid to do it again someday. Just not today.

As hard as all of this was, all I see are blessings. Big ones. This was one of the most difficult challenges I've faced but I made it through and I learned a lot about myself in the process.

 I'm grateful. 

For all of it.

Maude VS Trying not to be a stalker

Ok, I seriously am kind of a master at finding people. Some call it stalking, I call it my "Nancy Drew Detective Skills" (if you don't know who Nancy Drew is, stop reading now. You won't be able to relate to ANYTHING else I'm saying). In my old job, it came in SOOOOOOPER DOOOOOPER handy. 

In my personal life, it's a bit dangerous. 

Also, PS all that stuff I said about not wanting to date, well I think I was serious about it at the time but upon further reflection, it's not that I don't want to date, but that I am actually looking for someone specific. 

And, I found him. GULP. 

I must turn back time (ala Cher) to get you up to speed. My divorce was actually approved by the court last September. But, we'd been separated for months before that, and basically, it had been a long time coming. BUT, up until that point I was still married, technically speaking.

Therefore, the thought or the idea of someone new wasn't, well, even a thought. It was all pretty fresh so in October at the homecoming football game at the kid's high school I was horrendously underprepared to talk to an actual MAN, someone that I didn't know, who isn't part of my personal or professional circle, related to me by marriage or blood, or otherwise the husband of one of my friends.

I'll set the stage for this encounter - me, hair still dripping wet (and likely gray roots showing because I'm too lazy to color my hair often enough) because I jumped on the spin bike and took a quick shower before the game, no make-up, jeans, a sweatshirt, wearing my Chuck Taylors, carrying a ratty old blanket (so old in fact it used to be on my bed when I was like three years old). I was truly a vision.

My giant child, the one planning to play college basketball next year came barreling out to grab the wrist brace she asked me to bring because she forgot it. I handed it over and she asked if she could go to a party after the game. I reminded her of all the rules - "Make good choices, please. If you make a choice I don't agree with don't drive. call me or your Dad to pick you up. No consequences other than the crushing disappointed gaze I'll level for a day if you make a good choice after a bad one." That kind of thing.

This guy kind of bumped me from behind and said "Good job, mom." I am sure I mumbled something fairy unintelligible but we kind of kept talking and then we were standing side by side. At the time I knew right away: easy to talk to, tall, nice, funny, friendly, and fit. Totally my type. 

Except, I thought, I am not ready to meet my type, seriously just look at me (see the aforementioned state of my appearance) and I don't even KNOW how to talk to someone of the male persuasion who I don't even know. 

But, he made it easy enough. In our maybe five minute convo, I learned he had moved to Boise from my hometown over the summer, he had been golfing with some people from the alumni club all day who invited him to the game, he has two college-aged kids (one is a collegiate athlete, too) and above all I could tell he was really proud of his kids. 

Um....hold my beer while I try to make out with him. WAIT!  NO! ERMAGHERD! STAAAAAHP!

In any case, we covered a lot of ground in a short period of time and I deduced, perhaps incorrectly, that he must be single. Then we got up to the gate where you have to pay to get in and of course, I was so busy like, totally uncomfortably STARING at him while he was talking that I completely forgot to see if I had any cash. 

He offered to pay to get me in (so now I'm even more embarrassed) but thank God I found $6 in ones and quarters...and maybe a stick of gum.

I wished him well and to have fun and that was that. I did not see him again. 

Could not get him out of my head for months. 

To be BRUTALLY HONEST, I had hoped to find him on either eharmony or Hinge but I did not so I bounced. Well, I bounced because the whole thing with both options made me REALLY uncomfortable. But, also, with my incredibly narrow search parameters, I never found him.  

I find admitting to this all a little unsettling. And, a little nerve-wracking because I've built this guy up to be something that he probably is not. Likely married, or dating (like who would not SWOON over a Dad talking so fondly and proudly about his kids) and I am, most certainly not, his type.

I would think he'd go for your typical well-styled, fitness goddess with super white teeth, who is never late, doesn't carry a ratty old blanket and won't go out in public without makeup. And, always has her own cash. Also, someone with her shit together. You know, the complete opposite of me. 

And yet, I still tracked him down. What is wrong with me!

It all started when I found out my kid's dad started seeing someone. I guess that was what did it for me, if he is ready why am I not? For the record, I am not sure that I am, but for whatever reason, I feel like if this guy is single and available, I would totally make out with - er, I mean - GO OUT with him...(calm down Maude, jeezus)

After some brainstorming and reviewing of the crime scene and with the help of a friend I figured out how to find him. Where we live is a small enough town, and if you're golfing with a bunch of Catholics at the alumni tournament, chances are we'll know someone in common. And we do.  So I found him on LinkedIn and sent a message. All about helping me make connections in the business community in my hometown

To be honest, though, my initial "in" with him is totally not a lie. I could tell he was a super nice guy and since he's a golfer I made the leap that he's probably a good networker and knows people. Especially people in the business community. 

Because, as you might know, I am currently unemployed - another strike against me as we've previously discussed because who doesn't want to date a nearly 50-year-old unemployed single mother - so I am casting my potential employment net pretty wide. 

I am applying for work pretty much all over the PNW, including my hometown where he just moved from. So that's my cover. And it's actually totally true. 

I am supposed to call him (he gave me his number after I messaged him on LinkedIn - I seem to skip the dating apps and use the professional networking sites, so there must be something wrong with me) to talk through some of the connections he might potentially have and help me out.

But here's the thing - I did a full-on basic crazy woman background search already. I know where he lives in Boise. I read his bio on the company website that only mentions his kids no wife or significant other. 

I found his house that he sold last summer in my hometown on Zillow and I know it's his because I found a whole bunch of other stuff about him, most of which was on his LinkedIn profile.

And there's a photo of just him and his kids hanging in the house. His kids went to my high school where I was the mascot.

And I saw a shit load of wine in boxes in his storage room in the Zillow photos (he most certainly is MY people) and an old late 60's or earl 70's Ford truck in the driveway. I love those. I dream about a dude picking me up in one of those and going on a picnic date to watch the sunset.

Like I said - crazy woman search. I hope he never reads this. Well, I mean it will probably turn into nothing at all since I'm potentially moving and most certainly am not his type or in any position to consider anything with ANYONE until I can get my shit together. And, it's spread all over the place right now, so packing it back up is a bit of a chore. Gonna be awhile.

My biggest stress is that I also hope that I don't inadvertently mention something that I know that he hasn't ever told me when I do talk to him because that would be horrifyingly embarrassing. It is hard to un-see and forget things I've found out by being a crazy person. And I am, a total crazy person though I reassured him I'm not a crazy stalker. 

I feel like he sees through it...

So, I guess here goes nothing. I'm going to call him and hope I don't make an ass of myself. And, even if it turns out to be nothing at all, at least I know that maybe, just maybe, I might be OK with someone in my life someday. That is a win in my book. 

Just...maybe not yet.  I'm still kind of a shit show.

Maude VS TWO Epic Failures in 365 days

Well, friends, I guess it's a good thing I'm not ready to date. Now I'm divorced AND unemployed.

I mean, that's a seriously sweet bio for any dating profile: Divorced single mother of two teenagers who is totally unemployed.  WHAT A CATCH! 

It's the trifecta that all secure, employed emotionally mature single men in their 50's are looking for: emotionally unstable female with absolutely no income and at least one kid entering college soon.  

The past 365 days have been a wild ride for me. I left my very stable job of five years in January 2021 to work for an organization where I believed I had room to grow and advance that would provide the financial security my family needed.  And the stability I knew I would need. It was my "last job" where I had hoped to retire from.

At the time I took that job I was still married but was the only source of income as my then-husband was trying to make a go of a small business he started in 2018. 

The new job was a perfect match for my experience, knowledge, skills, and abilities and I would have just a little bit of breathing room every month so I didn't have to worry about having to start stripping or selling drugs to make ends meet. #lifegoals #nojudgementonstrippers #sexworkiswork

Just a few months into my new role it was decided that my kid's Dad and I, on our 20th wedding anniversary no less, would be amicably separating and committing to co-parenting our children moving forward. This was no surprise, we had been talking about it for almost a year at that point and I knew it was not if but when it would happen.

Has that always been an easy process? No, but I think all in all we've done a pretty damn good job navigating it all and being there for the kids. 

So, friends, that was failure #1 for 2021 - my marriage crumbled and fell apart. The divorce, to me, is the biggest most epic failure I have ever experienced in my life. I disappointed myself, my children, my faith, and my family.

It is so embarrassing to be divorced. I will be 50 this year. 50 YEARS OLD! I've got 2/3 of my life under my belt. A big part of me is dreading the back 1/3 of my life. 

I am certain that I'll be alone for the rest of it (see above reference to why there is NO ONE ON EARTH that would want to be with this shit show) and the other part of me is oddly optimistic about what is to come.

I do have a pretty good bucket list of items for a middle-aged divorcee like myself. Travel to Europe (ALONE!), start rock climbing again, run the New York Marathon (I said bucket list, I did NOT say achievable), downhill ski again, take weekend trips alone, whitewater raft, downsize my home and live in a little bungalow in the north end of town, and learn how to golf. It's funny because golf was one of the few things my former husband enjoyed and I did not. 

It wasn't until I got really drunk at a staff retreat last spring and spent a day on a course with a really amazing and fun group of people that I truly understood the appeal. Since then I've been to Top Golf (won a $250 REI gift card, don't mean to brag...) and CRUSHED it (to be fair I think Top Golf is designed so everyone feels like they can golf!) and I hit a bucket of balls with my Ma on a nice warm sunny day in November. 

If it wasn't January and butt-cold right now, I'd go grab my former husband's clubs and hit the shit out of a bucket of balls right now. I think it would make me feel better...

My second and most egregious failure has been losing my job. And I truly lost it, but I'm still not sure how. I was hired for one position that, in organizational restructuring, was eliminated.  I was put into a new role that was, at my advanced age, difficult to train (my learning preferences were no match for the training program) and not at all a match for my knowledge, skills, and abilities.

Having experienced the crash and burn of a 22-year relationship I struggled with my emotions and since work was the one place I spent most of my time and I can't burden my children with them (or friends, who don't want to hang out with an emotionally fragile sad sack of a human) unfortunately despite my greatest efforts to shove them down so far they couldn't get out, they found an escape route.

And I know better than to hold things in, that is not my way but in this case, I tried hard to keep everything inside and when you pile pressure on top of pressure something has to give. You can infer the rest.

And, let's talk about crying. I am not a crier (well apparently I am now but I wasn't before) so when I start to cry I get mad that I am crying and that makes me cry harder, then I am embarrassed for crying harder and that makes it even worse. #viciouscircle 

After a few months of fumbling and frustration and lots of emotions I could no longer hold back, I was given a couple of options, neither of which are appealing for a woman pushing 50 with no husband's income to fall back on and a kid entering college in the fall!

So here I am, unemployed. I'm terrified. I don't have much of a safety net, as we all know in divorce there's a sharing of assets. There isn't much left for me in liquidity to make ends meet. I will figure it out, on my own. Because that is who I am and what I do.

As I am always a glass half full kind of gal, I've got some time to work on my MBA - I am hard-charging to finish it by May of this year. I will be able to chalk that up as a success even if I don't finish that quickly.  

Hell, it's a self-paced competency-based program, with all my free time maybe I can finish it before I find a new job! Based on job availability out there right now, that seems like a good possibility.

It also appears the universe is giving me a gift of a little time to slow down. And I appreciate it. I'll do my best to take advantage of this time to put myself back together.

Maybe I will have time to write and blog a little more, funny stuff since that's more my style. Maybe I can finally publish my Bliss and Chaos e-book! I can see the headline: Desperate single mother publishes embarrassing stories about her children for money

I kind of like it!

Stay tuned and always remember, a little levity goes a long way. Onward, upward and I'm making my own way forward. 

Maude VS The Divorce (Part 2)

 NOTE: Be sure to read part 1 before you read part 2, I promise it is worth it

To catch up my dear readers (all three of you, you know who you are) I am now divorced. It has been almost 4 months since I penned Part 1 and a few things have changed but not much. Buckle up friends, and don't be drinking any beverages, lest you laugh so hard it comes out your nose...

I put myself out there. Yep, not once but twice. And within about 36 hours I took myself off the "being out there" because I could not handle it. OMG. I've learned two things: internet dating is NOT for me and I am not at all ready to put myself out there. Not at all.

The first time I did it was on a recommendation from someone after a few glasses of wine. Everything seems harmless when you're all warm and fuzzy from some adult beverages. So, I tried eharmony for a hot minute (with, TBH, absolutely NO intention of connecting with or going on a date with anyone) and IT. WAS. HORRIBLE! What the hell was I thinking?!

I don't think eharmony is horrible in and of itself, just the experience was not for me. First of all, you can put in your specific requirements in a potential suitor. Apparently my "requirements" are quite limiting. 

Not a lot to choose from, and also, I am cheap and since this was more of a dare than anything serious I did NOT pay the money so I could see a lot of the profile pictures.  (Yes, I am a skin deep person. Not afraid to say it.)

So once I got my profile up, it was a little weird. It was like walking into a bar full of men who haven't seen a woman in 20 years and you're THE ONLY ONE. Creepy McCreepersons!!! I mean I am sure they are all lovely but I just felt so awkward, virtually speaking.

Potential suitors can send a wave or a wink which, and while this is all via a web interface, it was weirder than being in a nightclub. I must say that I did not like it AT ALL. 

Plus, because I AM truly trying to make up for being an asshole in my 20s I felt horrible that I wasn't reciprocating the winks and waves. I have plenty of emotions in my life, guilt being one of them and I didn't need that hanging over my head for a bunch of men I never intended to meet. So I deleted my account.

Keep reading, I promise this gets funnier!

Fast forward three months. My former husband (again, hate the use of the term "ex") let me know he was starting to see someone. 

My reaction was actually nothing but supportive. His happiness has always been important to me. What I was MAD about was that he felt it important to tell the kids so soon and so early.

His reasoning was that in case someone saw them out together and it got back to the kids. As a kid whose parents IMMEDIATELY started dating other people before their divorce was even final I was worried about the trauma and asked him not to tell them. I still stand by my position, but he told them anyway. 

They are good kids and handled it just fine as far as I can tell. But I kept saying "our city isn't so small anymore, you don't need to tell them, no one we know is going to see you." Remember that statement friends, it WILL come back into play shortly.

Over the weekend after having learned of his news and after chatting with some friends (I need new friends, their recommendations seem to get me in trouble LOL!) I decided to try HINGE, the dating app. I had heard good things about it and thought, what the hell. Mark put himself out there, maybe I am ready to meet some new people, too. I am, most certainly, NOT as I've learned.

Setting up your profile is quick and easy for sure. A few pictures, answer some questions, put in your deal breakers and boom you're done. Once again, I've learned that my very specific requirements severely limit the field of men that I can "match with" which, as you'll learn in a few moments is a bit problematic.

I went to bed shortly after setting up my profile and woke in the morning to several "comments". You can actually look at the men who commented to see if you want to respond. 100% all got deleted. And I. FELT. AWFUL. 

It was like going to a bar, and a nice guy buys you a drink and you walk away to flirt with the hot dude at the pool table who won't give you the time of day. UGH. The guilt!  The horror!

I worked most of a full day that day and had a break to walk the dog, so I checked HINGE while I was out and found even more comments that made me SUPER uncomfortable, except for one which was laughing emojis on a funny picture I had posted. 

I had previously previewed the less than 10 guys that met my criteria and decided a couple of them looked nice enough. I thought if one of them reaches out I'll respond back.

One of them did (see above note about laughing emojis) and because I know NOTHING about the app, I commented on his comment which then made us a MATCH. Oh boy. 

You can only see a first name, not a last name so that was good in the sense that I still felt a little anonymous. It can also be a bad thing if you need to know the last name of the person you "match" with, which in my case would have been TREMENDOUSLY helpful.

Having never been on HINGE before and not ever having corresponded with someone like this I didn't know WHAT to expect. We chatted briefly and he let me know that he was never married and had no kids. I told him I had teenagers and if that wasn't terrifying he was probably lying.

He asked if I had a girl or boy or both and I said one of each I mentioned that the older one had a college basketball scholarship. He asked if it was to his alma mater and I said no, a small private out of state Catholic college and gave him the name. To which he replied, that is Father So and So's alma mater. 

I about shit my pants.

You would likely only know that if you're Catholic. If you are Catholic you might know my former in laws.

He then mentioned he was an alumni of the private Catholic high school both of my children currently attend. 

More shit in my pants. 

He likely knows my former husband's siblings, at least one or two of them...Crap, what do I do next?!?!

So, I let him know as much and that depending on his answer we likely could not be friends. 

His year of graduation? Same as my former husband's oldest brother. 

I asked him if he knew the brother and the reply "why yes, he's one of my dear friends." 

EVEN MORE SHITTING OF MY PANTS. SO much so that they would likely need to be changed...

You have GOT to be kidding me, I thought, my requirements are so freaking narrow the only person I can match with knows my WHOLE ENTIRE FORMER FAMILY-IN-LAW? 

And, also, what does it say that I seem to only attract alumni from the same damn high school. And I'm not even a cradle catholic. 

He offered that I could get a reference check from the brother and I offered that he ought not to ask the brother about me. More awkward chatting. At this point I don't know how to back out because he is nice and I'm inexperienced.

Thankfully, I had to end our chat and go to a basketball game and did not have further correspondence with him until the next day.

Once again, overnight, there were a few just bizarre comments and some pretty forward requests in my little HINGE inbox from other men on the app, all of which got deleted. 

Some of them did appear to be nice but they were either too short, too conservative or mentioned they weren't Journey fans, and right now Journey is providing the soundtrack for my life. That's a hard pass for me if you don't like Journey...

I got SO uncomfortable not only with the comments but the volume of them and feeling that old Catholic guilt about deleting them all. 

I realized, I am so not ready to "put myself out there" nor am I even ready to probably go on a date with an actual human male, hell I cannot even sustain a chat for more than 12 hours on a dating app without running away screaming!

Because where we live does turn out to be a small town (remember me telling my former husband that it's not a small town? Karma is laughing her ass of at me I tell you) I thought I better tell this would-be suiter that this isn't an experience for me but that I wouldn't mind keeping in touch so I sent him a message with my number. 

Then I deleted the app. Which meant that my message was ALSO immediately deleted. Therefore I totally ghosted someone that knows my whole husband's family and the guilt and embarrassment was too much to take. 

Sooooo what does a girl do? She consults a serial dater in her office to ask what HE would do, and then does the opposite of his recommendation! He said, don't follow up, he will find you. I, however, did not WANT him to find me because I do not want to date anyone right now.

In December I deactivated my Facebook account and I deleted my Instagram access (not the account) so I could not find him on social media to apologize for disappearing. The reason is I started my MBA and thought I'd eliminate distractions which now seems ironic that I decide to go on HINGE which is a HUGE distraction, what can I say, I'm complicated.

I did the next best thing: I used my exceptional Nancy Drew investigative skills (AKA stalking) and found him on LinkedIn. That's right friends, I switched from a dating app to a professional networking website. Who does that? I do, apparently.

I sent him a brief, albeit self-deprecating message and apologized for my behavior. I tossed in a movie quote for good measure and he got it, thankfully and sent me a message back in kind.

There are some lessons I have learned through this experience, as follows:

1. I have a type - very sweet Catholic boys who I will completely terrorize with my personality and horrify with my penchant for swearing.

2. I DO in fact still live in a small town where the six degrees of separation is more like two. 

3. There is a better than average chance that anyone I may in the future decide to date, if they are from this city, will know my former husband and his family. (lesson 4 could be that maybe I need to move away when the kids are in college?)

4. I am totally unprepared to meet someone new right now, and I may never be ready. But, I think I know I would rather be set up than try a dating app or website in the future.

5. Finally, Karma is REAL. 

My former husband and I caught up at another basketball game recently and I shared with him the whole entire story (including who the guy was), and we both got a pretty good laugh about it. Nothing wrong with the guy, but everything wrong with ME right now LOL.

If anything, being able to share a story with him like this and us both finding it funny was kind of healing. He was my best friend for 22 years, I'm hoping that doesn't change. 

It is challenging to navigate it all, but I am grateful for the effort we're both putting in on it. Losing a husband was hard, losing him as my friend would have been devastating. So that's the unfunny part of this post, but it is the part with all my heart.

XOXO,

Maude

PS - I have received exactly ZERO dick pics thus far and that is a HUGE relief.