The New Year

2 Jan

Well, it’s full of renewal and redux for me. The actual night of New Year’s I ate a lobster tail and drank a glass of champagne and watched Mad Men. By myself.  And I slept on the couch. Because I’m a woman in transition. Sleeping in my bed would not have worked, I can’t feel at home in my own bed.What does that mean?

It tells me that it’s been a hard year: beginning with a move to an apartment (different than this one) around Christmas, then a period of depression–couldn’t write could barely feel. Just lonely, and adjusting to my life without my beautiful old house.  Son on his own, but not–I sensed–doing well. I had some cash, a boyfriend who lived five hours away, a loft apartment that was a block away from my ex-husband’s house. (I hadn’t realized *quite* how close it was because I saw it at night!) Just when I got my mojo back  I had an appendectomy, and then a week later, was ill with an infection as a result of the surgery–ten days in the hospital.  I lost 20 pounds and all  muscle tone. I got great support from friends, but there is nothing like being alone in the middle of the night with nausea and withdrawl from pain medication. In early May: I said to myself: I have to get somewhere else.  Warm. Fun.

So I planned to go to LA–with my BF, the jazz musician, who travels around the world.  But by August I realized this was not to be. Geniuses not always the best partners.

The new plan was to go by myself to LA.  Fast forward to this Christmas with Noah. He buys me me 5 tanning sessions. He and I stay up late watching movies, and he is finally able to cry about the fact that Felix, his beloved Golden Retriever, died a month ago. The next morning we laugh hysterically when he says “Where did you learn to make a breakfast casserole”? Sometimes there is magic. That’s how I learned to make a breakfast casserole.

My friends Elizabeth and Paul give me sunglasses, a lizard scarf, and a collection on LA writing.  My friends and son actually think I’m going to pull this off.

And here’s the redux: a man I dated 13 years ago is now interested again. God, those blue eyes. Is this good karma, or Ithaca Recycling? My Toyota has been recalled for  the steering shaft, but the letter says the part isn’t available. Significantly increased risk of crash. Talk about a mixed message: you could die but please wait.  Actually that’s not a mixed message. It just means  you are screwed.

So the day after New Years.  I see the ex wife of blue-eyes  in the locker room of the gym. She’s wearing a thong.  Great ass.  I gotta get outa here.

Happy New Year.


4 Responses to “The New Year”

  1. kwasson2012 January 2, 2013 at 1:05 am #

    Reblogged this on lostandlaughinginla.


  2. Elaine Mansfield January 2, 2013 at 2:10 pm #

    I’m feeling the push for adventure–your adventure. My adventure is within now, time alone surrounded by snowdrifts, hiking with snowshoes, and many hours each day rewriting the last sections of my book, I have a gym in my house where I see no one but me in the mirror. Later this morning, I’m meeting with my inner trainer for some advice about getting back on track with strength training. She’ll tell me I’m moving in the right direction and need to enjoy the trip, that I shouldn’t force things or kill myself with effort. She’s consistent and says the same to you. Enjoy your adventure. Thanks for sharing it.


  3. Mark Roberts January 2, 2013 at 4:18 pm #

    The truth is always painful and hilarious. You balance both in a lovely way. I dig your writing, Wife 2. Now, get out here already.


  4. maw14747 February 4, 2013 at 6:32 am #

    Back story: when ex-wife of blue eyes saw you she thought, “Oh my God, those long legs. That perfect face. That great bod. That blonde hair. I gotta get my ass outa here.” And she did. And so did you.


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