My Last Blog Post

In the past seven years of being single after my divorce, I’ve been through a lot and been on a lot of dates.  I’ve done it all, been cheated on, beaten up, stolen from, dumped for every imaginable reason.   I was too short (no shorter than when we first started dating of course), too young, too old, whatever.  

Yet, I recently hit a new level of lame… my last relationship ended essentially because he watches a lot of tv and reads a lot of comic books.  A LOT of comic books.  It was a long distance relationship that he initiated, was going to move here then the new fall season happened and well of course comic books…  How could this curvy, pretty blonde compete with good stuff like that?   

Our conversations dwindled off to only once a week and that just wasn’t enough for me.    I have a life to live and taking a backseat to tv and comic books isn’t in my plans and shouldn’t be.  Entertainment should fill the gaps in our lives, not replace our lives.

After THIS, it would totally be explainable if I finally lost it and went all crazy cat lady, bat shit crazy and ate ice cream, watching Murder She Wrote every day and night.  This would be the epic ending of The Single Mom’s Dating Diary, someone would find me days later, surrounded by kitties licking out empty ice cream pints,  empty wine bottles and a remote in my hand.    People would understand totally.  They’d shake their heads and say it was such a waste, but it would totally be understandable.

Truth be told, I took it hard, writing became difficult and even being on Twitter made me sad sometimes.  (that’s where we met afterall)  I lost my best friend and my heart hurt.   I lost my voice and struggled to get it back.   My life came into a sharper focus and I had to reevalute e v e r y t h I n g.

So many readers came out of the woodwork to tell me how much I inspired them, so many heart wrenching emails, tweets, personal messages. I put down the can of frosting, the spoon (because I’m civilized like that) and wondered if I really had touched so many people. (not the inappropriate touching I’m usually acquitted for…)  Your comments picked me up, so much and made me want to keep doing this, but I still didn’t have the words.  

Inspiration came in the most surprising form: my 14 year old son. 

He’s never read my blog (Thank GOD!). He knows about the blog but he mostly rolls his eyes about it.   His dream has been to be a sports journalist, he’s a true sports addict, can quote chapter and verse of sports stats that would blow any adult away.   Since watching me, he’s seen the dream I’ve had come alive and he’s started a blog to get his own writing chops.   He’s going for his dream because he’s seen me go for mine.  Wow.  I may never hit the big time with my writing, but he just might all because he had this dream implant surgery. 

After really thinking about it I ran out of the cat shelter, threw the ice cream out the window and said, “Oh screw it!”   Wait, I’m lying… you readers are too smart… I didn’t say that…  I said “Oh FUCK it!!!”   

I'm not giving up, oh HELL no!

Your comments pulled me back up.  It’s not about me writing some bestseller book or whatever…. It’s about having a DREAM and not giving up on it.  I’m sarcastic and I probably go too far sometimes,  but I’m not a quitter.   You told me I’ve inspired you and if I quit so can you.  So can my son.   OH HELL NO!   If I go down, I’m goin down swingin'!

I’m a writer, DAMMIT!  Writers write to entertain but also to inspire us to get off our fat asses and DO something.  What’s the point of watching a movie like Dead Poets Society if you go back to your sucky cubicle life and don’t carpe the fuckin diem?     I’d so much rather someone said they read one of my posts and it inspired them than a person who read every single one and it never kicked their ass in some way.  Screw that! 

So call me a liar if you want, but this is NOT my last blog post.  

Call me out for lying, but in the next breath, make sure you call me a writer too.  I have a lot of work to do to get better, but dammit I’m not quitting over something so effing stupid.   We can't quit on our dreams, ever.   What's the point of having a dream if we let it go when we hit a speedbump?  This is like a muscle cramp in the 25th mile of a marathon.  It's game time, peeps!   The game is life, suit up and get your ass off the bench!

Smooches,

The Single Mom

Notes: ~ My ex is a great guy and I miss his friendship every day.   I don't mean to poke fun at him or his choices, they are just differnt than mine.  ~ I'm going hard at my book after all this.  It's so exciting! ~ I have a second date this weekend, with "Twitterguy" (will be changing his nickname soon)