There's sex in them thar hills! At least that's what the vibrating hoard was rumbling about online yesterday. "Orgasm or Bust!" painted on wagons of all shapes and sizes. I watched through my window at Divorce 360, reading some 130 plus posts on the joy of self-fulfillment. Normally I wouldn't touch the subject, but these were women talking; they were doing all the touching. I was all ears--and one nether appendage, but that appendage is neither here nor there. My appendage isn't what they were talking about, and I was more interested in their app-well, you know.
An emissary to the cause, I watched. I watched all the glad handing with fascination. I watched, wanting to know what they wanted so that I could pass it along to all guy-dom. Ok, that's a lie. I'm a guy, I was supplying my own cache. Let the other guys work for themselves, I'm here to learn for me. I'm selfish that way. All I need is a good teacher.
Wow you are fast!
That's what the email read. In context to my D360 reading, I was a little hurt. I am not fast. I'm Goldilocks and Mama Bear: I am just right! I'm also blonde and furry. I've got all my bases covered. Either way, you get the idea. You can see why I had to step away from my studies in one hand to read the email in the other.
It was from a woman who no longer wanted to attend my writers' group. I'd gotten two of these emails this week, three in the past month. My group is changing again. It's all in the dynamic of things I guess. One day it's water stealing the sand from your toes, the next it's a wave-smack to the face, leaving you a breathless frothy mess.
Blame it on dogs and homework; blame it on tan lines and bikinis; blame it on irreconcilable differences; people and things come and go in all our lives. Some we'd like to stay, others we'd gladly hold the door to process their passing. In the years I've led the group, there are a few people I miss, and even more I don't remember.
and Butterflies the indigenous
women were unimpressed with
my tales of pink flamingos.
Still, the group goes on. Every time I think it lost it's vitality, new faces arrive and spark new life. It's like watching a John Wayne film. No matter how many times he's shot, he's still jumping his horse.
“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway”
Thanks John, but I'm made of limper stuff. Saddling up sounds good, but I'm alone and reading about women dying to get off, one way or another.
I don't think the group is going to be good for me.
As I'm writing this, I don't really remember the sender's name, all I know is she's leaving. I'm getting used to that. Don't roll your eyes at me! I'm not being melodramatic. People leave. I don't think I appreciated that until recently. I always thought people stayed. In a natural state, people stayed at rest. Only through outside influence or temporary insanity did they ever leave. It was Rob's second law of motion from Rob Philosophy 101. I was wrong. I hate being wrong. I hate it almost as much as I hate being accused of being quick. I take both personally.
I'm still as much a student as I am a teacher. I'll get better at this. That's why I'm back to reading about the great lithium battery rush of 08: I need to learn. Besides, it leads to a happier ending.
Even now, things there have changed. The women have all stopped posting and a group of guys think that they've found the local watering hole. The atmosphere has shifted, and the air is palpable; a testosterone rain is coming soon. What would John Wayne do? Well I don't know pilgrim, but he'd definitely buy an umbrella...
Now the women who have stayed have turned into mothers. They're stroking guys sympathetically, "It's ok. No, size doesn't matter..."
I close the window. I'm already comfortable with size doesn't matter. I'm hung like a Jack-Russell Terrier but MyUnwife was always willing to play fetch. It's getting pathetic out there. Any minute I'm gonna see grown men cry. The Duke would never have put up with that. Yeah, I guess it's true. Things do change, and even now, I'm changing. I'm leaving.
Everything has it's time though. I'm leaving this, but I'm entering that. I hate change but I'm ready for it, and after visiting the D360 conversation, I come bearing gifts. I always thought roses were appropriate, but if this is better then fine I'll do what you want.
"Mom! You're date's here. He's got a back massager just like yours."
Ok, fine, but give me a break. I'm still learning.
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