Dear Reader:

I am currently sitting at a table covered with 1st grade worksheets, books, bills, an amethyst geode, a bluetooth speaker, bottled lemon juice, a no-tangle brush, lilac scented bubble bath, a copy of the score to "Meditation" from Thais for violin and piano, a ziploc bag with a freshly lost tooth and one dollar in it, some clorox wipes, a soccer ball pump and a lovely, smooth white rock over which I just ran my fingers.   One of my fingers, by the way, was recently sliced by something (I'm not even sure what it was) and is covered in a bandaid and exhibiting a little ache from having been used in piano practice and lessons today.

I should really clean up this mess of a table.

The room that surrounds this table is, frankly, equally disheveled.   I am, frankly, the embodiment of disheveled.   But, at the moment, I am just amused by the thought of how Sisyphean a task it would be to spend the waning moments of my evening trying to tidy up.   I'd rather participate in the life-giving activity of writing a few thoughts down here on this page.   I am slowly learning to take care of myself.   I am beginning to really believe that I am worth it.    I am also beginning to believe that all of my relationships will improve and that I will be more emotionally available to those relationships if I take care of my awesome self and leave the tidying up of my table, my room, my life for a more opportune moment.  

As the inimitable Virginia Woolf says in "A Room of One's Own" which should be on the shelf of EVERY WOMAN.... And EVERY MAN....,

That says it all, it seems to me.   There no $&*%ing need to be anybody but myself.   I'll sparkle if I want to and when I want to....   Just writing that down makes me smile.    

I've been having a fun time with the sociological experiment of match.com, by the way.   I feel like I should update my profile to read - "Not in a hurry.  Probably won't sparkle on demand.  Am pretty much myself."   Ha.    I'm almost ready to terminate my experiment because what I have learned so far about what people are looking for is this:

1) No drama.
2) No game playing.
3) True and eternal love.  TRUE.  ETERNAL. FOREVER. NEVER-ENDING.  (Read: exhausting)
4) Someone who likes to keep themselves in shape for their man (I'm sure this is vice-versa, right?).
5) Someone who doesn't mind being treated like a lady (say that with a southern drawl).
6) Did I mention no drama?
7) Someone who has family values and, drumroll, MORALS.
8) Someone who believes in the exact same things that I believe in.  Exactly.  The very same.
9) Someone low maintenance.
10) Someone who doesn't mind getting muddy on a four wheeler and then putting on a ball gown.
11) Finally, last but not least, and I am serious here, NO DRAMA.  NONE.  You guys, what these people want is some calm and peace.  Seriously.  Stop with the DRAMA.  

I probably shouldn't be so snarky.  Because, really, people are just looking for connection and I suppose this is as reasonable a way as any.   And, it is awfully awkward to be middle-aged and thinking about dating.   Especially since dating is pretty much FULL OF DRAMA, folks.  :)  Ha, ha, ha.   Spinsterhood is looking extremely satisfying to me these days.  No kidding.  I think, after all, I may have happened upon the best of all possible worlds (that's right - a Voltaire's Candide reference, folks) with this single mother by choice thing.  

Anyway, the one point of clarity for me right now is that I need to purchase these:

There are capes on the backs of these socks, dear reader.   Need I say more?  No, I thought not.  

The meditation practice continues sporadically, but is, in fact, helping me maintain a certain enviable level of emotional equanimity.   I am still getting out and about and walking.  I have a walk scheduled with a friend tomorrow at noon, in fact.   I have also done a good job of planning and shopping for a week's worth of meals this week.   Tomorrow is taco night.  Come on over, dear reader.   We'll also have fresh corn on the cob.  Because END OF SUMMER.  

I am dreamily anticipating the autumnal chill in the air.   I purchased a new lightweight, professorial sweater that I plan on wearing at all times.   It's purplish-gray, my favorite color combo.  It has pockets.  It feels ridiculously comfortable.  It inspires me to drink hot tea and write erudite essays.

No drama here.  Just comfort.  And silly socks.  And me being myself and taking care of myself.   If you want sparkle, you'll just need to go elsewhere.   :)

Thanks for reading.