Undefined

So I am dying of exhaustion here because I've been awake since approximately 4:40am and it's now 10:12pm and I haven't had a nap. At all. No nap. Since I can nap after being awake for, oh, say, ten minutes, this is killing me. I sat down earlier today to write a blog about the whole cheerleading competition that occurred back in October, but it just wasn't flowing. I am mostly (completely) pissed at myself for this, because during the competition, the actual morning of the big event, and then the competition itself, the writing in my head was so awesome I could have rolled out some good stuff on toilet paper in the bathroom. But I didn't. I was working on other things (read that as love life) and so I kind of lost it. I mean, I didn't lose the event in my mind, and I can still recapture the emotions, but my ability to put it on paper (electronically via my computer screen, that is) just kind of fizzled and I'm not feeling like trying to rekindle it at this point. Lesson learned. No more delaying a fabulous blog post for three or four months.

Love life. I know all six of you who follow me, and maybe a few more, are wondering what's up with that, because for real, even though I conveniently blamed everything else in my life for preventing me from blogging, it was really the love life. Let's just call a spade a spade. As I stated in another post, it started out with Date #1 with Guy #1 and was supposed to be this big, gigantic social-networking-dating-site kind of grand experiment. Except, as you know, it didn't work out like that. I am now on Month #4 with Guy #1. Because I really like Guy #1, and so I came to the conclusion, and the dispensation of a few learned friends, that if I like Guy #1 why would I try for Guy #2? I mean, I'm 37. I'm not trying to date the Western Hemisphere. I'm not trying to recreate my twenties and date the United States, and I'm not in my teens trying to date the Commonwealth of Virginia. I'm getting old, staid. I don't need a lot of variety to know a good thing when I see it. I've had the experience of a lot of bad things to teach me that.

The big question now that is rolling off the lips of my friends is, what is this? Are you dating? Are you committed? What is he to you? Are you seeing other people? Is he? How often do you see each other? Have your children met him? When will they? Does he have children? Have you met them? Does The Ex know about this? Has he met your friends? Has he met your family? Do you like him? Do you love him? Is he your boyfriend? Are you sleeping together? Have you done it?  Yes, Virginia Woolf, these are the questions that you too will be asked when you grow up, get married, get divorced and then start dating. Holy fuck!

This whole thing is pretty largely undefined. Verbally, between the two of us. And for once, I am totally good with that. It feels strange to be 37 and refer to someone as my boyfriend. Because that just feels so high school-ish to me. I have used that term to refer to him a few times, and each time it felt really strange. Because all though I feel all high school-ish inside, I know that I'm still 37 and I have a mortgage to pay. I know that I'm not dating anyone else, and I know that he's not dating anyone else. I can say beyond any shadow of a doubt that I don't really want to, and I can say beyond any shadow of a doubt that neither of us has time. Hell, we are 37 and 41 respectively. Who has time for all that drama of dating a whole bunch of other people at these ages? Not I. I've told him I feel weird calling him my boyfriend, but he's free to call me his girlfriend. Go with what feels right, I suppose.

And so, we've settled into this totally undefined thing of seeing each other exclusively. I will answer the questions above.

1. Are you dating? Uh, I guess you could call it that.
2. Are you committed? I have some issues with this word. I am going through a divorce, for Christ's sake. And he knows I have some issues with this word, but even if I can't talk the talk, I can walk the walk.
3. What is he to you? A godsend. A man who can deal with me as I am. A man who figured out on Lunch Date #1 (which is a separate event than Dinner Date #1) that I turn into a complete trainwreck when I'm hungry, a man who figured out by the third week (with no guidance from me) that I am a complete perfectionist, a man who can talk me down from a panic attack, and a man who told me I am beautiful but he thinks I would be even more so without my makeup. Should I go on? Nah, that might turn into blathering. Hit me up on email for that.
4. Are you seeing other people? Why would I do that? Did you read #3?
5. Is he? Have I mentioned how awesome I am?
6. How often do you see each other? Not nearly enough. But he understands about my situation with my children, and my need for them to not know about anyone else at this particular moment in their lives, and so, he works around my children's schedule. So between our respective careers and what I have going on with my children, we don't see each other a whole lot.
7. Have your children met him? A resounding no. 
8. When will they? Maybe late spring or summer. I feel obligated to wait and see what kind of bullshit The Ex throws out to the children before I can commit to a firm date on this.
9. Does he have children? Yes.
10. Have you met them? I have met one of them. I was more nervous about that than I think I have been about anything in a long time.
11. Does The Ex know about this? No. Because he would immediately inform the children and fuck.up.my.program. And so, he shall hear about this when the children inform him that Mommy's got a boyfriend. Just like how they informed me that they met Daddy's girlfriend before I moved out. Yes, this sounds petty of me, so on and so forth, but trust me when I say I can't and won't tell him because he really will immediately run and tell the children, and this is something they need to hear from me first.
12. Has he met your friends? Other than a couple of girlfriends I work with, no. Meeting my friends (love y'all, but...) would take away from MY time with him ALONE.
13. Has he met your family? Yes, my mother. She's asking most of the same questions as what I've got listed here, too. I'm an insanely private person. Can't you tell from my blog?
14. Do you like him? Duh.
15. Do you love him? Everybody Loves Raymond. No, that's not his name.
16. Is he your boyfriend? I like to tell the people who ask this question that it's undefined. Label free. Kind of like those labels that say "Dye Free".
17. Are you sleeping together? Have you read my blog? I mean, really read it? What do you think?
18. Have you done it? See answer to #6.

And no, this isn't a rebound. I've had a rebound, and his name was Emotional Cancer. Who has been excised.

So here I stand, completely undefined for the first time in my life. It's kind of like that new pair of shoes that you go and try on and buy because they look hot, but then realize it's going to take about six months to break them in, what with them being four and a half inch heels. But then, when you finally reach the point where you've broken them in, they've become your favorite shoes and those four and half inch heels are just as comfortable as a pair of flip-flops. Probably not a great analogy, but for me to be doing something that's not labeled and compartmentalized and micro-managed to death, it feels pretty damn good.

Officially... Back In The Saddle

Okay, after a long, unexpected and unsure hiatus, I am officially back in the saddle. Where the hell have I been, you might ask? Well, since my last post, I have lived through my first Thanksgiving without my children, survived Christmas and all that that entails, made it completely through football cheerleading which then immediately segued into basketball cheerleading, put my older daughter into counseling, volunteered at school, rocked out on second grade homework to my satisfaction (but not to the satisfaction of Mrs. Second Grade Teacher), paid most of my bills on time, bickered with The Ex about shit too trivial to even mention - but of course I will later, developed somewhat of a social life and nurtured a new love life. Can you blame me for not having time to blog?

Actually, I needed a break. I needed a break to be able to let life happen so I could come up with some new material, and I needed to spend some time watching something other than the freakshows on craigslist. I needed to decide if this form of creativity, this form of expression is truly for me. I needed to really step back and spend some time analyzing if this is what I want to do. Okay, so I'm lying. I needed to get laid well, and often. Really, I needed to do all of the above, and not necessarily in that order. What I've come to realize is that with good sex and the right kind of testosterone in my life, I am not nearly as neurotic, panicky and anxiety ridden as I was when I had either the wrong kind of testosterone in my life or none at all. I was starting to get on my own nerves, which sometimes happens, but I was getting on my own nerves and I couldn't stop. I am also not quite as bitter about the divorce and The Ex. Yeah, I am still quite sore at him for a variety of things, but I feel like some of my bitterness and anger has finally begun to dissipate.

I've also realized that yes, this is my form of expression. I burned out on art in high school, poetried myself to death in college and in my early twenties, did absolutely nothing throughout my marriage except fantasize about all the ways I could be creative if I were single, and so here I am. This is me. This is Steph, for better or worse, bitter or mellow. I don't suck at art, poetry, trivia or shit talking (just to throw those last two in there), but I think I do better at writing. Age, wisdom, motherhood, marriage and divorce, career, friends, emotional cancer, losing people and gaining new, yeah, that has given me my impetus for writing.

So, blah blah blah, all that touchy-feely bullshit, and I'm back. Full of life and snark. Can't wait to start rolling it out again. Oh, yeah, and I've got a new tag - love life.