He moved out of this house almost 2 months ago. And for almost a year before that before that he was gone. 

And, I can handle a lot of things that he did before. I mow the grass, install light fixtures and even figured out the difference between the cable modem and the wireless router - and even what they do.

But for all the progress I've made in handling my new life in my old house, nothing makes me crumble like opening the liquer cabinet and not seeing his bourbon - not seeing the collection of highballs I purchased for him over the years for special occasions - birthdays, Christmases, our anniversary... 

His glasses are gone now. So is his bourbon. So is he. 

And tonight, when all I wanted was the wine key, I opened the liquer cabinet and cried. 
Hard.
 

Your friends should not be "work."

Friendship should be easy. If it's not, then it's not really a friendship.

I'm tired of this 'transition' and it's time to create and settle into my new life.

It starts TODAY.

Not everyone gets to re-invent their life at this stage of the game. 
It's an opportunity I'm taking quite seriously - looking at my options, weighing the benefits and risks, and at how these choices fit into my long-term plans.

And... if something's not quitright, I can always change my life - 'cuz I can.

Who decides whats "Extreme?"

I'm not thinking like "Extreme Cheddar Goldfish" snacks, but more like when journalists describe Tiger Woods as being into "Extreme Sex." OK, I'm listening...

Appearantly he likes anal with porn stars. Yeah...? Is that all it takes to be extreme these days?

Jesus! What's the term for people who were pulling that move in high school - like those troubled Southern California girls who went pro - and built upon that sexual resume to include bondage, BDSM culture, choking, threesomes, foursomes, and shitting in each other's mouths? Are they cataclysmic?