Categorizing Relationships

After having an in-depth conversation with a friend today, I thought our discussion would make an interesting blog post (well, interesting to me, anyway). I admitted to categorizing my relationships with men. Here’s the break down in my world:

Has potential

Friendzoned

Tolerated But Not Exiled (yet)

Exiled

Has Potential:

This category is usually reserved for men whom I just met, although most men I meet go straight to the “Tolerated But Not Exiled (yet)” category. Starting out in this category is rather simple. Remaining in it is not. Intelligence is a BIG factor. Carrying on a conversation (two-sided) seems to be rare these days. I’ll admit to becoming bored far too easily. Keep me involved in a conversation using wit and humor is a sure way to remain in this category longer than most. If the only thing you can seem to discuss is sex, you won’t last (ask my last serious boyfriend about THIS one…yes, I mean you Andrew). 

Friendzoned:

Usually the only exit you can take from this is down. Either “Tolerated But Not Exiled (yet)” or straight to “Exiled “ depending on what you do to remove yourself from the "Friendzone". I love my guy friends. I get along better with men than women most of the time. Now, I will admit to a few rare gray areas in this category. The men in those gray areas are more than aware they are exceptions. If a man in the “Friendzone” wonders if he falls into the gray area, probably NOT. I can only think of about three men total that fall into this area. Maybe four. Maybe. 

Tolerated But Not Exiled (yet):

Some men are a tad thick in the skull. When I’m actually super bitchy to you on a regular basis, odds are, I don’t really like you. I’m not playing some flirtatious game. If I like you, you’ll know it. I’m rather straight forward and honest. Don’t like games. Hate them in fact. Once in this category, it’s usually only a matter of time before you end up “Exiled”. This works on Facebook, but it’s a tad harder in real life (like when it comes to a job setting), but trust me, it can be done.

 Exiled:

At this point, you have no use to me. I could care less one way or another. If we do speak, it’s very formal and rare (think ex-husbands). Much like being “Friendzoned”, it’s rare to leave this category, although I do have a few who have, but they fall into the gray area of “Friendzoned”, so not good examples.

So there you have it. I wonder how my categories would differ from a man’s? If anyone cares to compare, be sure you comment or message me. If you blog about it, let me know and I’ll link it here. I love seeing the way other people think!

Don't Ask If You Don't Want To Know!

Truth…some say it can set you free. But does it really? I’m an overly honest person, it’s not that I don’t ever screw up, I do, I just tend to own my screw ups. I also give my opinions freely, which some people don’t always appreciate. Go figure. 

So, when asked a question, I will always give you an honest answer. I figure if you can’t handle the truth, you wouldn't ask. So why is it that we ask certain questions that may have answers we don’t necessarily want to hear? Curiosity? Insecurity? Stupidity?

Whatever the reason, if you ask it, suck it up and don’t blame the person who answered the question honestly. Not their fault you’re an idiot.

 Case in point, I asked someone a question, not really expecting the answer I got. Twice. Both times it felt as though I had been kicked in the chest by a Clydesdale. Both times I got answers I not only didn't expect, I really regretted hearing.

I think in the past, I would have pouted and been all butt-hurt. Now, I realize the fault was mine and mine alone. Honesty should never be punished. I respect that fact. It doesn't change the pain that honesty caused.

I think I've grown substantially (obviously I still have a lot to learn) in the last few years. I can look back and clearly see why I've done things the way I did. I don’t have any regrets. Not a one. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. Living life can often be a messy business. But at least I’m living, not just existing any more. I spent too much of my adult life doing just that. 

So you take the good with the bad. Feelings make you know you’re alive; whether it’s love, hate, anger, hurt or forgiveness. I can also say without any reservation, one person’s honesty has no bearing on how I may or may not feel. I feel because I do…not because I’m influenced by anyone or anything. Some days I wish it wasn't that way, but I've learned to accept and even embrace the fact that I'm a very emotion-based creature. And I’m okay with that. It’s better than being emotionally dead inside. That’s no way to live.

2013 Goals

I know the start of the New Year is the time to make all those resolutions that most people never keep. I don’t think I've ever actually made any, mostly because I’m of the aforementioned opinion…they’re made and not kept. This year, however, I’m going to do it, but I shall, instead, refer to this as my list of “2013 Goals”. So here goes…

2013 Goals

o    Finally get my passport. Mostly because I’m not getting any younger and I really do want to travel to the UK (Scotland, of course)

o    Spend far less time on the computer and more time on myself (I’m hinting at exercise…)

o  Keep my house clean (if you know me, you know how much I HATE housework, and, although it’s clean now, it wouldn't take much to get lazy and it be a mess again)

o    Get accepted into a Respiratory Therapy program (I've put off going back to school too long)

o   Stop smoking in 2013 (I’m so not putting a date on this…but I know I should, and I’m going to this year)

o  I must learn to live without certain people, mostly because I have to understand that I can’t put so much importance on certain relationships when the other person is incapable of doing the same. I’m far better than that and it’s time I started acting like it (This one is gonna hurt)

o   Start writing again…not just on my blog, but seriously. I’d like to have a completed MS by the end of 2013, ready to submit to agents (This is the scariest goal for me, not even sure why?)

So there are my goals. None seem too far out of reach, and hopefully actually writing them out and putting them in my blog, I can make myself a tad bit more accountable! Let’s see just how great 2013 turns out to be!!!

Lack of Patience is Sometimes a Virtue

I sit at my keyboard smiling. I’m smiling for the silliest reason. I’ve learned that I am a seriously emotion-based writer. When I’m sad, I write, when I’m in love, I write, when I feel lonely, I write…you get the picture. I’m smiling because I’m at a loss as to what to write. I’m not in love, I’m not sad, I’m not angsty, I’m not pining for a man I can’t have, I’m just, well, here. I find that amusing; a slight relief actually.

I keep trying to date; I’m not very good at it. Something about my lack of patience seems to keep my tolerance levels at an all-time low. And I’m actually fine with that. It means I haven’t rushed into anything stupid (can’t say that’s always been the case, I have a tendency to jump right in head first). My head is clear, my heart is far from closed off, but I’m just kind of existing in my own world without feeling the need to include a man in it right now.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I have a short list of men I’m interested in. One is showing some serious potential…nothing like a man having the face of an angelic little boy, but lots of tattoos and a self-professed bad-boy…oh yeah, and the fact that he sounds JUST like Gerard Butler hasn’t been lost on me. Yes, that means he’s Scottish (insert growl here). There was a very pretty Englishman, who even wore a kilt, but I got a tad tired of the blowing hot and cold, so he’s dropped further down the list. And of course we have a few of the “normal” ones who make me laugh. By “normal”, I mean they live near me. Good for a night out. Dinner and drinks aren’t all bad. Then there’s the 32 year old body-builder who claims to “like older women”…he’s good for the ego, but I’m afraid I don’t make a very convincing Cougar, so he’s not really a viable option. Yeah, I like my life right now (insert cheesy grin).

So, if the world ends tomorrow (not that I expect it to, I have to work…sure sign that’s exactly what I’ll be doing), I can honestly say that I have no regrets; I’ve lived my life and made my own choices. Some choices weren’t always well thought out, but that’s just me and I wouldn’t change a single thing. I have some of the best friends a girl could have, I love my family and I’m open to whatever life has in store for me. I’m actually looking forward to it. I feel some new experiences and adventure are in my future and I can’t wait! I may even have to start making my own “vlog”, like Tessa has…because lord knows I have no shame (see one of her videos below for an example of THAT). Maybe I’ll even start writing seriously again. You never know…

Mid-Life Crisis & Tattoo Therapy

Well, since it appears that my mid-life crisis is still in full swing (for quite a few years now), what better way to commemorate it than with my first tattoo? That’s right. I got a tattoo at 42 years old. I only told a few people I was getting one, and they all assumed it would have a Scottish theme, perhaps something Celtic? Alas, no.

I think many people have had a preconceived notion about me. Just because I didn't have any tattoos never meant I disliked them. I just never had a good enough reason to get one myself. I always said if I had a reason, I’d get one.

I've had a lot of time to think and reflect lately. In doing so, I realized that I have spent the last five years trying to discover who I was as a person, not a label (i.e. Mom, wife, girlfriend, etc). I've made some serious judgment errors during this journey. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for me, lots of “wrong turns”.

The one constant for me was my best friend, my rock. He helped me in more ways than I think he’ll ever be able to understand. Without trying, he taught me so many things about myself. He taught me to be myself, to love openly and honestly, he taught me many lessons in trust and even more important, lessons in forgiveness.

I think he is the only man I've ever loved unconditionally. We’re all human and have our share of baggage and faults, he is no different there. The difference has always been his inability to hide what was in his soul, who he was deep inside, from me. That gift, that insight into another person, has helped me look at myself in a whole new light.

My journey is not complete; no one’s journey is until the day they take their last breath. But I know that without him being a big part of my life these last five years, I wouldn't be the person I am becoming, and I kinda like me right now. I’m stronger, more independent and have realized that my happiness is only dependent on ME. No one else.

I still have a lot to learn about myself, and tons of things to work on, I’m so far from perfect it’s not even funny, but I know I’m on the right track and I know I wouldn't be where I am without my Aussie Rock and the many lessons I've learned from him.

That being said, I decided to immortalize the last five years of my journey & the lessons I've learned with my first tattoo. No matter where my journey leads me next, this will be a constant reminder of how much I've learned, grown and changed in this time of my life.

*I should also add I decided to cover up a large part of a birthmark on my upper arm, so the red you see outside the tattoo is actually the birthmark, not a result of the tattoo. There's also a small heart at the bottom right. This was the day I got the tattoo, so it will get clearer over the next week I'm told (or I'll go back and have it done bigger & darker if it doesn't).

Lady Sinclair Fictional Scene WIP

Her body broken by the rocks below and swallowed by the angry sea had a certain appeal. Her spirit was already broken, why not her body, her soul? She could not count how often those thoughts had come to her; a certain way to end her pain. And yet she embraced that pain, much like she was the thick wool covering her shoulders that did nothing to warm her.

She knew he was never coming. She felt it deep in her soul; the ache that never quite went away. She stood on the hill overlooking the sea. The waves were rough and white capped, roaring in, and crashing against the rocks below. The wind whipped her loose hair around her head like an unruly coil of snakes. She tightened the plaid around her shoulders, even while knowing nothing could keep the cold outside from seeping through to her skin and meeting with the cold that she felt in her core.

There were no tears left. She had shed them all. It made her feel emptier knowing that. She held out hope for weeks that he would return to her. The sympathetic stares of those in the household only gave her the strength to never give up on Patrick. He had promised. He would keep his word. Those weeks had turned into months. The months had now turned into a full year. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but a day came when she just knew. She felt the sharp pain of that loss. It was as though she had been run through with an unused and dull knife, tearing and rending her flesh. The pain made her nauseated. She had been sick for days, confining herself to her room.

Tragic Fictional Characters...Why Do They Never Learn?

The online gaming community is much like writing fiction, but in a group setting. You name your character in your fictional world, you develop that character, build a whole fictional world around it. All the while, other players are doing the same thing. You role play that character to help your progression in the game, much like a writer does in their own head. The major difference is the other players, who have developed their characters and those characters bleed over into your own fictional gamer world.

Anyone who has played online games with any deal of tenacity will understand what I'm saying. Those who haven't will just have to trust that I know of what I speak. Been there, done that and own several t-shirts. 

Now the major problem with this scenario is where do your fictional characters end and the real you begin? You'll obviously have traits that you choose your character to possess, whether they are traits you wish you had, traits that are a small part of you, or just simply suppressed emotions or feelings you feel more comfortable giving to a character in a fictional and safe setting.

Every protagonist in anything I've written is a part of me, whether small or large, always a part. My first MS was no different. Maggie Sinclair was me. Well, me in eighteenth century Scotland. It was an easy choice when coming up with a gamer name to choose Lady Sinclair. 

Lady Sinclair started out a very tragic figure. I had plotted out her story and it did not have a happy ending. In fact, her life was wrought with tragedy and lost love. Unfortunately, that wasn't so much commercially viable in the fabulous world of literary publishing, so I replotted, revised and found a way to give her a happy ending. But she was always destined to be tragic. She was one character that had a mind of her own and really never liked me trying to change her story.

In my original MS, Maggie had the love of two men, and yet lost them both. She loved them in two very different ways, but she did love them both. She spent the latter half of her life waiting on the return of her soul mate, her true love. He never came. The man she had been destined to fall in love with, the one who could never be replaced by another, just never came back to her. She never knew what had happened to him. 

So that brings me back to how closely any fictional character follows your real life. Here is where you have control over your own story. Choosing to step away from the ever dramatic and oh so tragic Lady Sinclair is a no brainer.

Life is full of lessons, the really important ones are always the most painful. Life has no guarantees. If you wait on them, your life will simply pass you by. Live every day to the fullest. Love with an open and trusting heart. Cry when that trust is violated, but never, never let it effect your ability to love fully and honestly. Even a broken heart can heal with time. Lady Sinclair didn't understand that, but I do.