Did I mention that there was a big change in my personal life?  On December 14, 2011 my very first grandchild came into the world.  That’s right, I’m a grandmother. But you can call me GiGi. That’s what Princess Bean (my granddaughter’s nickname) will call me.
A year ago, I probably would have told you that I didn’t feel ready to be a grandmother.  It provoked images of aprons, silver hair and rocking chairs. But now that I am one, I realize that being a GiGi is as individual as I am.  And in the Baby Bean’s case…well she’s definitely got something unique in the grandmother department.

What?  You want an introduction?  Ok, ok….here she is… Princess Baby Bean.Precious isn’t she?

I’m sure that those reporters and journalists never thought twice about what those stories and this situation in general was going to do to four good men and their families.  They never gave it a second thought so they had no idea that these men would be put in a position of obtaining expensive legal representation that they might have a difficult time paying for or that they would be put into a position where they would be forced to resign  rather than be fired and have it reflect even more poorly on their work records when they attempted to find work elsewhere.  The public who screamed in outrage at the possible mistreatment of an inmate would never be aware of the fact that these men and their families would deal with being unable to pay mortgages, car payments and other bills or that simply putting food on the table would become a challenge.  Some of these men had chosen the law enforcement field as their career of choice, but no one thought about how these accusations, indictment and unfair media coverage would make finding any job at all more difficult than anyone could imagine.

But that indictment came with a day in court before a jury.  That day was this past Wednesday. There were no news cameras, no reporters camping out to listen to the real story or to run to the presses with the verdict.

Not Guilty.

That’s right, these four men and their families went through all of this and they were innocent.  They were simply public servants doing their jobs to the best of their abilities.  They were dealing with a badly behaving criminal, the only way they could, using the training they had been given. They did nothing wrong.  They were the good guys, doing a job that most of us would never be able to do, dealing with stress levels we can’t even imagine.  And they were portrayed as criminals by the media.   A media that hasn’t given a second thought to what these men went through because of these false charges.  A media that never bothered to give the same coverage to the verdict that they did to the charges.  A media that didn’t think twice about the effect that their reporting was going to have not only on these men, but on their wives, children and loved ones.   After all, the public in general never questions what their newscasters and newspapers feed them.  The mean-spirited, downright hateful public  reaction back in May proves that.  So shouldn’t that media be held accountable for one-sided stories ?  Shouldn’t they be required to follow-up and report that to the public too?  Does the media even know what ethics are?

As of this writing, I can’t find one single blurb on the internet about the not guilty verdict this week, although I can still find tons of links to the multiple news stories back in May and again in July.  I think all of southern Maine’s news media should be ashamed of themselves for the role they’ve played in the damage done.  And although stories about the verdict won’t change the hardships, it would go a long way in repairing the reputations of these men who were simply doing their job  keeping the public safe.

I’m not holding my breath though, because an ethical media seems to be an oxymoron.

I’m tired of Republicans.  Wait…before you Democrats get all excited at the prospect of bringing a former registered republican over to enlightenment, I’m tired of Democrats too.  I’m sick of politicians period.  And do you want to know why?  Because there isn’t one of them who is wondering how they are going to pay their mortgage next month. Or worrying about making the last three packages of meat in the freezer stretch into 7 meals. Or trying to decide which is more important, getting the car fixed or getting the new contact lenses that they’ve needed for months.

They have no idea of the struggle that the majority of Americans deal with day in and day out when it comes to the basic necessities like keeping a roof over their heads, the light bill paid and food on the table.  Not one of them is in danger of losing their home because they can’t pay rent or a mortgage.  Yet they sit up on Capitol Hill and are proud of their ability to filibuster a plan that just may help the struggling masses a bit. Today it’s the Republicans that are playing the game, but don’t let the Democrats fool you, they’d be playing the same game if a Republican president were in office trying to pass a bill like this as well.

It’s shameful that all of these so-called ‘representatives’ of the American people are so out of touch with the real life difficulties of their constituents that they feel ganging up to bully the other side is representation.  I have news for them. It’s far from it.

Now before all of you “I bleed Red, White & Blue” Americans jump on the ‘ Go get em girl” bandwagon, I’m tired of many of you too.  Those of you that are lucky enough to have jobs that pay your bills just fine. Those of you who piss and moan about government spending for those who aren’t as lucky as you.  That’s right I said lucky.  Because regardless of what you may believe it is sheer luck that you’re not the person on the unemployment line today.  You may argue that it’s because you worked hard to get where you are, that you’re the master of your own destiny.  It’s easy to say when you have that job  that pays bills and puts your kids through college.

But guess what?  A majority of those people in the unemployment line were just like you not so long ago.  They might have even been more successful than you. So get over yourself.  You may want to believe that you’re in control because it helps you sleep at night, but your kidding yourself.  And acting like an ass to boot.  Just because you’re one of the lucky ones you grumble about the national debt, you grumble about bail outs, grumble, grumble, grumble. Too bad you couldn’t use all that grumbling energy into prodding those Republican congress people you seem so proud of to come to do something for all of America and not just you. Keep up with those selfish thoughts and attitudes.  Someday the tide might turn for you like it has for so many.  The foreclosure notice may be served, the power shut off, the bills unpaid.  And when you start crying for our government to do something I’m going to remind you of how pompous you were, patting the back of the Republican congress people when they played their childish game of block the President’s bill.

We can’t afford a partisan America.  If the United States is going to survive and thrive again it’s going to take everyone working together for one another.  The time for old fashioned politics is over, no more parties (both literally and figuratively) just a unified front doing what we can to get things and people working again.

Before I step down from the soapbox and store it away again, let me add one thing, just on the odd chance that this reaches the ears of someone in Congress.  I’m not the minority here.  I’m the majority.  The problem is we tend to be the silent majority because sitting up there in Washington you’ve made us feel pretty powerless.  Many of us feel that there is no one listening.  Can you prove us wrong?

(If you read this and agree with what I’ve said, pass it along. Perhaps with that simple act we can start a chain reaction of change)

Aside from the stalker behavior, I think the thing that effects me the most are the lies.  After you’ve been lied to over and over again it leaves you pretty suspicious about everyone.  You wonder when they’re going to tell you they aren’t actually divorced, separated or single. You wait for the other shoe to drop, and sadly it usually does.  But still I go into things trying to trust, because I realize that I’ll never find a relationship if I go into it distrustful. But it brings up the question, am I really being fair and trusting? Is it possible to start even a simple date unbiased when so many bad dates and relationships have left their mark?

And it’s not just men I’ve been interested in romantically that have put those marks on my trust. In fact, just recently I discovered that someone I believed would never lie to me had been doing so. For a long time.  And due to their lies I behaved in a way that hurt another friend unknowingly.  It hurt me to find out my friend had lied. It hurt more to realize I’d hurt someone else and lost them as a friend because of it.

So how do you set aside the past in order to find your future?  Is it possible to trust someone new without allowing the past to color things?  Or am I wrong in thinking I need to ignore past experiences in order to embrace my future?  Perhaps its all about allowing another person to earn my trust?

Or maybe I should just chalk everything up to actually living and experiencing life and keep on plunging in the deep end?

And the past few weeks have been a sad time.  I know I’ve written here before about having two ‘Dads’ grace my life, one by birth the other by choice.  Cancer took my birth father from me years ago but my Daddy, the man who chose to be my father remained in my life and continued to give me love and stability in the face of the uncertainty that always seems to be my life. And then on June 25th my Daddy was gone. Unexpectedly. Shockingly. The man I thought would always be there to catch me when I fell left us all.

I haven’t reached the anger stage of grief yet, just the stunned numbness. And I’m not sure that I could or would share my grieving process here. I think I’m OK most days, but I also know that I tend to compartmentalize things, putting away the painful and difficult stuff when I don’t feel I can handle it.  The problem with that is just when the compartment gets too full and suddenly everything comes rushing out at once I won’t have a choice and the tears and anger and hurt will all be inescapable.  But not now, not today. Not the past three weeks during which I flew to Maine, made more decisions than I ever imagined you had to make at the passing of a loved one, not even when the man who I’d been dating sent me the ‘we should talk when you get back’ text. (We still haven’t really talked, although it is pretty clear it’s over.)

Oh, there were tears and sadness, but just the ones that couldn’t be held back. A few here and a few there. It almost seems like the loss is too big for tears somehow. But days like today when it’s quiet the thoughts tickle the edges of my brain. Loss. Of my Dad. Of a relationship that I thought might have promise. Of my life the way it was.  Forced changes that I had no control over, some of which I don’t even understand.  I try hard to close my mind to them, but they won’t go away.  So I guess I need to embrace the fact that I’m dealing with the sad times.  And reassure myself that they won’t last forever.

As I struggle with the thoughts of menopause, dry skin that doesn’t bounce back the way it used to and a few more aches and pains than I once had it’s becoming harder to deny. And while I still am not ready to wholeheartedly embrace the word ‘old’ I am in fact getting older.  Today, sadly, the mirror presented me with another reminder that while I still may feel 35, 50 is creeping up fast.

Just what was it that reminded me of that unpleasant fact?  My neck.  Or the skin on my neck to be more specific. I caught a glimpse of a small patch of sort of wrinkled skin that ::gasp::: reminded me of  my grandmother.  You know, skin that has definitely lost the elasticity of youth and threatens to make us look like a Shar Pei? Well, it appears that my recent success in the battle to lose weight has not only made my jeans fit looser, my skin is also fitting looser. My jawline suddenly is refusing to bounce back to it’s satiny smoothness.

And there, in the mirror as I applied my makeup today I suddenly became aware of a small patch of slightly wrinkled skin. ACK!  I am NOT old enough for grandma skin.  So after doing some reading I realized that it probably was due to the fact that I haven’t been so good about my water intake the past few days.  Hydration was in order.  But just to be safe, I stocked up on moisturizer/firming cream and found exercises to keep my neck smooth.  Because 50 is the new 30 right and grandma skin is not acceptable to those of us with Peter Pan Syndrome.

You see, over the past months I’ve been presented with a first hand experience with that Mars/Venus stuff.  You know, what I mean. The whole “he has to be from another planet because I just don’t understand” thing?  Yeah, that.
I consider myself pretty open-minded when it comes to relationships. I’m not sure how ready I am to dive into anything too serious, so I’m not one of those women who need to talk to the man they are dating every day. We both have lives outside of one another and at this point we’re just dating and enjoying the time we get to spend together.

So not hearing from a guy I’m dating for a few days doesn’t freak me out like it does a lot of women.  But not hearing from them for over a month, while it still doesn’t freak me out, does make me question what happened. And worry about their well being.  Which I did when the city boy appeared to drop off the edge of the earth.

The first week or so I was convinced he was just busy, but once we got into the 3 and 4 week area I found myself wondering why he didn’t let me know he was ok and just say “this isn’t working for me”.  I am aware that a lot of women wouldn’t handle that statement very well, but me on the other hand would have totally understood and wished him all the best. And I’m not being sarcastic either.  At my age I understand that sometimes things just don’t work out for one reason or another.  And I thought the city boy knew me well enough to realize I was woman enough to deal with that. Which left me baffled as to the total radio (phone, text and e-mail) silence.

As hard as I tried not to, of course I found myself wondering if it was me, had I done or said something that changed what had seemed to be a mutually enjoyable relationship.  Finally, after searching my soul and wracking my brain, I was no closer to understanding, so I closed the door on my time with the city boy and began the process of moving on.

Then, just when I was prepared to dive into the dating pool and risk the sharks again in an attempt to find someone to enjoy movies, dinners and romantic evenings with it happened.  The city boy emerged from his man cave, apologetic for his self imposed sabbatical from me.

A younger me might have seen it all in black and white, ignoring the man who seemed to care so little that he could go silent after 4 months together.  But the current me is all too aware of how overwhelming new relationships can be, how unsure one can be after prior painful relationships. So the current me agreed to give him a chance to explain.

So we gave it another shot, except now I can feel myself holding back, keeping a part of me separate. It would be all too easy to really fall for this guy, but my brain has one of those alert sirens going off in my head. It’s self preservation that I’ve ignored in the past with not so great results. Every time we get together I plan on having ‘the talk’; the one where I say “Where do you see this going?”"Where do you want this to go?” but it never seems to be the right time.

As I got ready for my date with him last night I had determined that we had to talk, that I needed to know if he felt our relationship had any hope of growing past this easy going, occasional date stage. And then something happened in his life that made it so not the right time to add even more to his plate.

So here I am, baffled by the Mars/Venus thing, wondering if I’d just be better off to become a reclusive single woman, working on a great American novel a/k/a trashy romance.  *sigh*  Or perhaps it’s my penchant for trashy romance that is making this more difficult that it should be and I’m projecting the hero/heroine roles onto us?  I’m clueless.

But hey…life is interesting.

It had everything to do with a city boy.

And I wasn’t even watching with him.  But knowing that he was an avid Duke fan and that he cared about the outcome of the game made me want to watch.  And not just watch, but hold my breath as they ran back and forth on the court hoping to see those dark blue jerseys pull ahead.

Alas, it wasn’t to be, and I felt the pang of disappointment because I knew a certain someone wouldn’t be smiling in triumph. As I shared my condolences, reminding him that I too had recently felt the agony of defeat that kept my beloved Patriots from the big game, I realized that this was one of the ‘perks’ of dating.  We’re introduced to new things, new experiences and new interests. We’re challenged to do things we might never do otherwise.

I wonder how many things we as individuals learn to do or come to love because of a romantic interest in someone?

I can only speak for myself, but I know that I’ve overcome fears, learned to love things I didn’t understand (like football!) and opened myself up to experiences I’ll never forget.

Does that mean I’m going to end up anticipating March Madness with the same fervor I await the start of the football season? A month ago I would have laughed at the thought. Although I’d sat through my share of Bonny Eagle basketball games as a teenager in the pep band, and certainly understand the basics of the game, it just never seemed to be a sport that induced passion the way that football and hockey could.

But now? Well, I watched a college hoops game all by myself simply because I knew he would be. I have no doubt I’ll be keeping track of the games during March Madness.  I guess I shouldn’t rule out learning to ♥ hoops.

In my reality, romance was pretty much a myth. Or at the very least it looked nothing like those scenes in the romance novels.  After my divorce I watched a lot of chick flicks with the girls, still loving the idea of those romantic scenes, but knowing that it was all a fantasy.  Real life just didn’t happen that way.  Or at least not to me.  I accepted it and continued to get my romance fix in sappy chick flicks and trashy romances.

Enter Valentine’s Day 2011.  First, I’m actually dating someone at Valentine’s which hadn’t happened since my late teens.  Second, I actually had a date planned for Valentine’s Day. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew better than to over-romanticize it.  It was just a date. That’s what I told myself as I got dressed in a new outfit and packaged up the chocolate covered strawberries I made myself  along with a few other little items for my date.  That’s what I told myself as I drove to meet him and even as I got out of the car and said hello.

And then something amazing happened. I experienced one of those romantic, straight from the pages of a Harlequin romance, nights.  From an amazing meal cooked just for me, and a private piano concert to sitting in front of a crackling fire wrapped in strong arms.  And it was all real. No, really, I pinched myself to be sure it wasn’t a chick flick induced dream.

And here’s the real kicker…I don’t think he was even particularly trying to make it an uber romantic night.  I mean, I’m sure he wanted me to enjoy myself, maybe even make me smile. But I’m pretty sure this wasn’t something that was contrived, if you know what I mean.  It all felt pretty natural. Two people, enjoying one another’s company and enjoying making the other person smile.  And voila! Romance.

It was an amazing night I’ll never forget.  My girlish fantasies of a perfect Valentine’s date came to life.  What else might be discovered that I thought were relationship myths?  Is Cupid real too?