I should be doing homework, putting the finishing touches on the last of my summary paper for my philosophy class, writing and finishing my paper on “The Big Lebowski.” I had to pick a movie and examine the characters from a religious standpoint, what they believe, how they believe, etc. I did the same type of paper on the book “Wicked” and received a 100. “Perfect work” my instructor said, even though he circled a few typos I missed. I’ll never be good with grammar, spelling and the like but I try when I write for class, not so much when I write for me.

I should be doing that, but damn, I’m tired. This has been one hell of a week. Hell, the last few weeks have just been run run run go go go and there isn’t an end in sight. Getting the house ready, getting Zack’s room ready. The party, the clean up after the party. Long talks on the phone with John (which were pointless and oddly not upsetting). Dinner with Pete one night when he asked me if I had decided yet. “Have you decided rather or not you want to be the single woman or give us a chance?” We were finishing our Mexican food (chicken nachos for him without veggies just like the gone Donna, Tex Mex type tortilla for me) and I said “Do you really want to have this conversation here?” No, he says. I’ll pay and we’ll talk in the car.

It was raining, raining hard. We sat there in my truck, holding hands. I’m not ready, I tell him and that is true. But the hard part was telling him that even if I were, it isn’t him. He is such a wonderful person, one that I will stay friends with and as long as neither of us are seeing anyone seriously, friends with benefits (because honestly, how many of those is too many?) He is such a sweetie mcsweetie pants as Rachel would say. (Maybe not about him, but she has been known to say such things) but the “spark” isn’t there. We don’t have enough common ground, we don’t even just have PF in common. The physical is there, very much so. We sleep well together, better than anyone I’ve slept with since… well. I love looking at him, touching him, love him touching me, love the sweet and the heat and all of that. But I don’t connect with him on an intellectual level. Not that I’m an intellectual, not that he isn’t. But that isn’t there.

It is so strange, this being single. I feel like a case study. Lets take a woman who loved her husband and had a great relationship that she and he let die (because it was not all his fault, not all mine but even though he’ll never admit it, we were both to blame) and throw her back into the dating world. Just for kicks, let’s put GREAT men in her life. Truly great guys. Let’s give each of these fellas several wonderful qualities, wonderful things that she likes about men. We’ll give the artist, well… artistic talent. Quick whit, heathenistic (my word) ways, book smart, common sense, funky ways. He’ll be the type to like pens and type writers and be able to sing songs from No Cure for Cancer with me and quote the skits. He’ll have many of the qualities that you hold dear in someone. Not to mention beautiful, long and strong hands. But he travels, will be a lifelong bachelor and while his company is great…no cigar. No love spark.

Then we’ll take the beautiful, bald blue eyed plumber with the sweetest smile who I jokingly told once must have found a book on how Dawnia likes to be treated and read it. He says the right things, does the right things, holds me so perfectly, yet there isn’t a mental connection there for me. He and Char, fine. They will continue to see each other even when slick (or was it slippery? Or sneaky? What was it Jen called him?) Pete and and Char will still geek out together. He is so awesome, so Libra. “Whatever you wanna do babe.” And he means it. Would he like for it to be more? Sure. Is he ok that it won’t be? Yup. He told me once (jokingly) that I was the perfect woman, tiller and pickup truck aside. “You cuss, you drink beer, you don’t wear makeup or worry about your appearance and you are naturally beautiful. You ARE the perfect woman.” How can I not just love a man who thinks that? Sigh. He is a doll, I do like him. A lot. He is so laid back, so kind, so thoughtful, so Libra. But, no cigar.

Then, we have John. Now, there is a man I have it all with. The spark, the love, the physical, the mental connection. He slips on the phone the other night and said that he can’t go with what his gut tells him to do. He hates change and is scared to be hurt again and doesn’t want to hurt chickiepoo. Even if he did, we’d have obstacles. The biggest is that he has a jealous bone and doesn’t understand that men and women can be just friends. He can’t comprehend that Char and I are just friends. He doesn’t see how old lovers can be just friends (and the situation with us hasn’t helped him to see that it can happen.) He would have issues with all of my men friends. It is a bridge I would cross, but don’t have to and looks as if I never will. So close, yet so far away. No cigar.

Then, we have Trav (aka gobusgo). Spark? Check. Love being close to him? Check. Mental connection? Check. Problem? Loads, the biggest being that he fucked up. We are in a weird place right now, trying something new. He was here last night and because I didn’t think he’d ever be “here” again, not like that, it was so nice. Char (ever the insightful one) pointed out to me that yes, he likes Pete better than anyone I’ve brought around. He likes Pete but sees that well.. he isn’t right for me. Of everyone, he sees Trav as the most like me. What is it that Char said back in the summer? I wrote it down here… something about needing the dreamers, the artists, the writers.

My party was wonderful, awesome and at the same time, weird. The people that spent the night were Tim, Pete… and Trav. Pete and Tim were planned stay overs, Trav had too much to drink to drive home. It was our first time hanging out as just friends and I was super shocked that he came. I invited him, of course. He is my friend and I wanted him here. But I couldn’t believe he came, not when he knew I’d be here with someone else. I think he wanted to see. He knows that being my friend will mean seeing me with other people and well, I think he just wanted to get it over with. I tried very hard throughout the course of the evening to NOT be lovey dovey to Pete. It wasn’t hard, because I had so many people to entertain and well… as much as I like Pete, I wasn’t quite ready to out him to the world as my boyfriend. I don’t care if people assumed we were lovers, but I didn’t want my close friends to see something into his presence that it wasn’t.

My friend Noelle asked me Monday at work “Who was that guy with your camera taking pictures?” I offered up the camera at the start of the evening wanting someone to take pics other than me and Trav volunteered. I told her a bit of who he was to me and she told me that he watched me all night and looked sad. Char pointed out after I told him this “You were in your element and you looked good.” Firelight, friends, feeling love, beer on my lips, sparkle in my eyes. Back. Back to being me more than I’ve been in a long time. His theory is that Trav hadn’t seen that side of me. Had only met him, only met Serena (neither of which are very reprensative of my normal pals) and saw me as Ms. Responsible down to earth type of gal. Char pointed out that he didn’t know that side of me, that side that is loved, that has so much love for others. Apparently, there is a glow about me when I am happy and Trav saw that and I think it made him sad because he threw away his chance at being a part of it.

I’m still rather annoyed with him about that actually. Rather annoyed indeed.

If only I could take all the wonderful men in my life and toss them in a blender.... of course, they'd probably look like the salsa I destroyed just before the party.

Pete (bless him, he is so sweet) said one thing that is really why I sat down and started typing tonight. It was about my life, my friends and me. I’m not quoting, but the jist was this: I’m a lucky one. Never, he said, has he been part of something like I have. Never has he had more than a couple of good friends at a time. Yet there you are, he said. A gathering like that with people that for the most part have been with you 5+ years. With a group of people that I very obviously loved and who obviously loved me. These people were not just acuantances, these were my friends. He said it speaks a lot about a person who can grow and cultivate friendships that will stand the test of time. I got to thinking about that and he is so right. The more I’ve thought about it, the more blessed I realize I am. When he told Char this, Char said “Buddy, you don’t know that half of it. There were a ton not here.” It boggles his mind that someone could have so many good friends.

When E and I split, I thought I had lost several of those people forever. As time passed, as they saw how quickly he was able to cast aside his emotions, as they saw that I wasn’t crazy, as they listened to my side of the story, they forgave me and I them for not being there for me. I gave them up because I thought he would need them more. I was wrong, I needed them too, but I didn’t want them to think they had to do both. I want us to both keep them, both have these good people in our lives and I feel so very blessed that they will still have me.

Having them here… having Tam hug me and tell me that she is glad she kept me too. Having Jen see me, having Tim embrace me like a sister, having Matt & Shelia want to hang out with me because I’m fun, having R &M sad because they couldn’t be here, having them call me from Virginia the night it snowed to ask me if it was snowing here. All of the other people here were no brainers… they were mine, they were keepers. But them. It could have went the other way. They didn’t choose me, they didn’t not choose him. They choose both and they didn’t have to. They could have forgot about me and gave me the boot like he did, but they didn’t. I’m so very thankful.

Pete said “You can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep.” You can tell a lot about me by my friends. Diverse, funky, smart, silly, loving, kind, grumpy and hard to get along with sometimes, cunty (or wait, maybe that is just Donna and I). So many things that are good about bad in each of us. I’m so blessed.

I’ve been thinking about loss this week. Not in sad ways for me, not in a sad way, but just loss. About the friends I’ve had in this life that I thought were good friends who are now no longer here. About the friendships between other friends that I thought would never end. I was listening to “Against the Wind” today and that song is a few chapters from my life.

This is the John chapter. The John and Dawnia of 15 years ago…

It seems like yesterday
But it was long ago
Janie was lovely she was the queen of my nights
There in the darkness with the radio playing low (it was an old stereo with an 8 track player)
The secrets that we shared
The mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Til there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove
Well I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again

Against the wind
We were running against the wind
We were young and strong we were running against the wind

And then, the next few years after we split, up til about 23…

The years roll slowly past
I find myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
Found myself further and further from my home
I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving 8 miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again

(I remember driving through the Outer Banks with that song blaring when I was about 22, knowing that I was living that verse right then. Driving that big blue 1985 Pontiac Station Wagon with no seatbelts and a radio that had a short and only worked ½ the time.)

The next verse is my years with E and me now. Now, life is different. It goes in a circle path some. I thought about that too tonight as I was making Zack’s bed, plugging in an alarm clock, getting ready.

I’m still running against the wind it seems and I don’t know which way it is blowing. Finally, FINALLY I’m becoming okay with that. I still have a headfull of dreams and I still keep the bedroom clean (although that doesn’t count today because I have so much shit moved into my room to sort through, camping stuff loafing about). I have a good life. Do I have the love that I hope to one day have again? No. But I have those friends who were here, the ones that were not. I have my family. I have so much joy in me and even in my darkest hours it has outweighed the sorrow, that is how I’ve walked on.

This weekend, I will see Trav in his element, surrounded by a couple dozen of his friends, his peeps. I’ve no doubt they will welcome me, they are a welcoming sort, his lot. Will I feel what he felt last weekend? Will I be sad for what could have been? I don’t know. I do know that I’m looking forward to two nights in the woods. Camping, drinking beer round a fire, community food, hiking up and down mountains, snuggling in a bus. I do know that all the chapters of my life that have not been written yet are coming at me fast. Time is slipping away, yet in some respects I feel like it is standing still. Mainly because in many ways I’m different but the core of me is the same. I get tired, I get depressed, I get worn out and just plain pooped. But I’m still willin.

I want to start peppering my blogs more with music, with songs from my life soundtrack. One that has been with me during this past year is this one. I’m still willin.

I been warped by the rain, driven by the snow
II’ve been warped by the rain, driven by the snow
I'm drunk and dirty don't ya know, and I'm still, willin'
Out on the road late at night, Seen my pretty Alice in every head light
Alice, Dallas Alice

I've been from Tuscon to Tucumcari
Tehachapi to Tonapah
Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made
Driven the back roads so I wouldn't get weighed
And if you give me: weed, whites, and wine
And you show me a sign
I'll be willin', to be movin'

I've been kicked by the wind, robbed by the sleet
Had my head stoved in, but I'm still on my feet and I'm still... willin'
Now I smuggled some smokes and folks from Mexico
Baked by the sun, every time I go to Mexico, and I'm still

And I been from Tuscon to Tucumcari
Tehachapi to Tonapah
Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made
Driven the back roads so I wouldn't get weighed
And if you give me: weed, whites, and wine
And you show me a sign
I'll be willin', to be movin

End of Lyrics
Little Feat. Gotta love em.

Not so much with the weed, whites or wine, but I love the rest of the song. Hell, the lyric don’t quite match me except for metaphors. I could replace words, make it my own and in my head I do. But the jist is that I’m still…. Willin.