Me..me...me...my Blogget

I simply must confess. I'm 43. It's hard to immagine that I am that old, and ma just now figuring out who and what I am. The only conversation I can hold on this topic is in the blogget. I'm not ready to share my feelings about this yet.

I'm so sleepy, and seem to never want to sleep...I know why, because it's the only time I get for myself.

The new year has started, and I've only written the date down a few times incorrectly.

What do I want for 2008?

I want my family safe.

I want to lose weight and start getting more comfortable in it. One would think, at 43, I would be comfortable in it, but I'm not.

I want my kids to prosper.

I want to hear the music in my past. Right now I'm playing Selena, and it feels good because it reminds me of the place I grew up. I grew up in Southern California, which was ripe with mexican culture, food, music, colors...how do I describe it? There is a smell to it. I love that smell, just like I love homemade tamales.

Sometimes I really miss California. I miss all it was to me. My home. My freedom. My very beloved ocean. I can't seem to ground without it, but then again, I am grounded...I just don't know.

The whole 2nd portion of my life is going to be so completely different than that last, the state is different, I have kids, I have a house, I have a "stable" job. I get to do all the fun outdoor stuff I love. What I don't get is hearing other languages. Smelling something exotic cooking in the street. Wandering down Telegraph Avenue on a Saturday Morning, stopping in at Blondies for a slice. Listening to the drummers at UC.

So much to miss. So much I can't explain to people here in the frozen north. That feeling of sitting at a cafe in Santa Cruz, by the beach, drinking Margarita's with friends, eating coconut shrimp, watching the water, and feeling so totally content.

I miss the drama of the sea, the falling of cliffs into the water, the sound of the waves roaring. The smell of salty fishy sea air, just damp enough to need a sweatshirt.

Montana, is a wonderful place, and truly, I don't want to move away from here, it's just coming to grips that that part of my life is over. It will never happen again on a daily basis. To drive up into the redwoods and smell the smell. It's not the same forest smell that is here, in CA...it was damper, greener and more magical.

I almost pointed myself in the right life direction, I wish I had sometimes. I wish I had jumpted in with both feet when I lived in SF, and explored this lesbian side of me that is lurking just under the surface. It all seems so silly now to me. What was I scared of, there would have been no one to judge me.

I'm also really coming to terms with the fact that I'm way more attracted to butch lesbians, than to fem's. There is something so sexy that I don't know how to not engage with them somehow.

I belive I'm going through mid-life puberty.

I'm in love with my IPOD. I'm on my 2nd one, and I love it, I think because it is giving me back a piece of my life that I lost when I had my kids...but that could be bad...could be good.

It makes me miss the times that have past.

Walking the beach with my friends in Santa Cruz in the 80's. Making out with Kevin what's his face. Going to the Cafe with my good friend S, smoking cigarettes and drinking, then having to pee in the boys room.

I don't want to be middle age. I'm getting bunions. My face is growing hair. My boobs sag...on the other hand, I don't want a do over...but I would like a do right. Making better, stronger choices. Not being chicken and afraid to do what I want because I was worried about what people would have thought.

How many times did I go to Osento, and pretend I was a lesbian, but never being brave enough to find out.

Well...if anyone is reading this, my happy sleep pills are kicking in and I must sleep now...peace....

Honey, all I know to do is go......IG