Ah, this fledgling little blog of mine. Full of promise and false starts. I come back to it every so often, believing it will be different, and inevitably falling into the same pattern of interest, then neglect. But at least I'm consistent about my inconsistency, so let's not ruin a good thing. Tonight is a night where I feel like writing. About nothing much at all, and everything at the same time. So much has changed. I don't delude myself into thinking that anyone out there is curious about what's been going on in my life, so I don't write this for them. And I've already experienced everything that's going on, so I don't write this for me. I think I write it just for the sake of putting it out there, and clearing some space in my brain. A mental Marie Kondo-ing, I guess? When I left New York in August 2024, I wasn't just leaving a place. I left behind a whole-ass life. I left a home (an apartment) that I'd lived in for nearly 20 years. A relationship of about the same length, and 11 of those years married. I left years worth of memories, and stuff, and trauma, and laughs, and love, and pain. I left the family that had built up around me. I was sad and lost and had to leave to find myself again. We're now a bit over a year from then, and my life looks nothing at all like what it did before. In May, I quit my good paying work from home job and decided I wanted to work in a coffee shop. And in August, I became the Assistant Manager of the local Delaware coffee shop that I've wanted to work at when I was in my 20's. It's more physically demanding that you'd expect, more physical a job than I'd expect to be working at the age of 46, but I kind of bloody love it. I work with a group of lovely weirdos who make it such a vibrant environment, and even though I bitch and moan about having to get up super early some days, or about customers who come in 5 minutes before close to order half a dozen complicated frozen espresso drinks, I honestly go into work most days feeling really positive, and wanting to be there. Plus, all the free caffeine is nice ;-) My divorce was finalized a bit over a month ago. It was a long process, partly because of money and partly because of bureaucracy. It wasn't uncivil, but it was less amicable than I'd hoped. I'm not surprised by that, and I don't have any hard feelings about it - I get that he was hurt, not just by the fact that I left, but the manner in which I left. But I also don't think he understood how hurt I was and why I felt I had to leave how I did. I don't hold out hope that we'll ever talk about it, as it feels like we've both moved on with our respective lives, but I think we can both agree that it's something we should've probably done years before we got to the point we did, before we started to resent one another. I've met someone else. Truth be told, I've known him for a while, but we'd never met and I was still married, and he lives far away, and blah blah blah. In May after I quit my job, I went to visit him on the other side of the country, and things just clicked. A really solid friendship blossomed quickly and happily into more, and it continues to grow and be a source of joy. While the physical distance between us is a challenge, having that caring presence in my life, someone to be open and vulnerable with...it's been pretty fantastic. The fact that he's handsome and talented to boot is a nice bonus. Gato is with me, still my ever-present companion and familiar. He snuggles me every night and morning, and loves to whine at me when it's time to leave for work. But my beloved monster has been a hugely grounding force in what's been a pretty fucking tumultuous span of years. Even when I've had days where I don't want to do anything other than rot in bed, I know I have to get up to at least make sure he's fed and given his medication. And as time has been moving on and I'm finding my new routine, those days of wanting to rot have become a bit fewer and farther between. I got a new tattoo this past week. I've always looked at tattoos as signifiers of moments. I can look at each one of my (now) 10 pieces and tell you where I was in my life, what it meant, why I chose that. The tattoo I got recently is of a sketch my dad did, years ago. A character he created, called Rubberface. The character was a presence in my life growing up; there are even photos of me dressed up as him. I decided years ago I wanted to get a Rubberface piece done, to commemorate such an important part of my childhood and connection to my dad. For a long time I've felt disconnected from my life, a bit lost as to who I was and who I am. But I'm getting that back, and now felt like the right time to get the tattoo, as a mark of this new era of getting back to me. I keep looking down at my arm and seeing this incredible piece of art and it really helps to remind me of who I am and where I come from. As this tattoo is healing, I feel like it's healing me. I think this is all I have to report at the moment. It'll likely be another several months before I update this again, but again - I'm resigning myself to my consistent inconsistency. Just wanted to put this out there for some reason. I feel better already.

Tags: life,work,love,relationships,tattoo