Music Has Been My Life …

As long as I can remember, music has somewhat dictated my life. My earliest memories involve music. Whether it was my Mom singing along to the radio, a record, being dragged by my Mom to a “festival” in the middle of a field in northern Maine or by my Grandmother to a concert of her liking (usually country before the age of 7); every memory involves music.

But do I really know as much as I think I do?

It’s no wonder I eventually ended up married to a former musician-turned-engineer/record producer in my early 40’s. We divorced after 5 years but we remain extremely close friends. A testament to the fact that we probably were meant to be just that, best friends.

Tonight I finally began the Netflix documentary, “Pop Music”. I got as far as the 3rd episode, which touches upon the “Country Music” genre. While growing up, I had the fortunate experience of being exposed to a large variety of music. My family listened to everything from standards, to traditional Country & Western, to R&B and Soul, to Rock and finally honed in upon the Elvis and The Beatles.

My Mom was a bit young when she had me, so we were kind of “friends” as I grew up. I also became my Nana’s little “bestie”; she took me everywhere. From movies, to weekend yard sales and flea markets, to films I had NO business seeing; she was the shit. I still think about seeing “Grease” in the theater with her and my Great Grandma to this day; and how embarrassing that “Blue Moon” scene must have been for them with their 4 year old great/grand-daughter in tow…

But, the other thing that everyone on that side of the family had in common was a deep, deep love and appreciation of music. While I was a latchkey kid, I was also the child of a music obsessed woman. I learned to turn on the radio as soon as I woke up in the morning and turn it off at dinner, just before retiring to the living room to watch TV, or put it on at a low volume in my bedroom so I could fall asleep. Music became the center around which my family began to revolve.

I loved it.

I have spent the majority of my spare time over the last 20 years enjoying live music in one form or another. When COVID hit, it really took a toll on my psyche. When things began to open up again, one of the event profs groups I belong to circulated a rally to buy concert tickets for some of the first few shows that went on sale. I didn’t have to have my arm twisted, I bought tickets and it almost felt naughty. That was March.

Fast forward to August, the show date finally arrived and of course it is one of the hottest, most humid days of the year. I take the boy I’ve been seeing with me to the show. I’m expecting rain, which I actually welcome, because the tickets I have are under the canopy at the venue. Of course, it didn’t rain … the slight breeze stops and I suddenly feel as though I might die. There I was, finally back at a concert after nearly two years, and I was going to have to leave early…

The boy was gracious. When I asked if he would be ok leaving early he immediately replied that he wanted to ask me to leave earlier because he knew I was in distress, but he also knew how much I was looking forward to it; so he didn’t want to do anything to make me feel worse than I already did.

He’s a good one.

We got heard the majority of the set. The sound sucked anyway. It’s been said that one of the members of the group refuses to participate in sound check and as a result, now, often throws tantrums on stage (that happened) and gets pissy about the sound (three times before we left).

I felt bad for having to leave and was already thinking about what to purchase tickets for next so I could redeem myself, when my old “concert” buddy texted the next day to invite me on an adventure upstate to see Brandi Carlisle ….

That would end up being quite a weekend …


When You’re 40something, Divorced and Finish Netflix

Do You Have To Remarry?

The abundance of free time we had during quarantine, coupled with the lack of desire to interact with the twat I was living with at the time, allowed me the opportunity to binge watch pretty much everything that I hadn’t when I first got separated in 2018. And I do mean everything.

I have watched ALL the foreign language crime/procedural series. I now know how to dispose of a body in about 5 languages and two sexy accents. I watched All the good stuff on Apple TV+, Disney+, Hulu and Amazon Prime. Also Starz, epix …. Crackle …. yeah. I finished it.


I have not been able to go home for ages thanks to this bullshit virus, which in some ways has been a blessing, for but it’s also been difficult. My parents are late 60’s-ish now. My brother and sister have kids that I love and really missed. I finally got to travel home to the extremely rural twilight zone I grew up in recently. It was a whirlwind trip, but of course, the entire state is under construction and I got a speeding ticket.

I stay with my brother when I go home because my extremely beautiful mother is very European and still smokes (my Dad quit about 10 years ago, thank God) in the house. One of my very best friends moved back to our hometown a while ago, and we were able to spend time together. She gets up around 5 AM, though, so I was always back at my brother’s place pretty early each night but they were always in bed with all the lights off when I returned. All I could do was retire to the guest bedroom and stream more content.

While I was there, my entire family and my best friend, all asked about my ex-husband. Not that I mind, I love him (maybe not as much as my family, I am coming to realize) he and I are and always will be very dear friends. We talk frequently and often provide each other with viewing recommendations. My nephew even invited him to his graduation party in a few weeks, which I thought was very sweet. But, I had been talking about the really great guy I’ve been spending time with from the moment I arrived, and while everyone seemed interested and really happy for me, they still couldn’t stop asking or talking about my ex.

I couldn’t help but wonder, where do I go from here?

The transition from the man to whom I was first engaged, to my now ex-husband, was easy. As it turned out, everyone ‘liked’ my first ex, but they ‘loved’ my ex-husband (clearly). As I mentioned, the guy I dated after my divorce was not a great guy, he got physical with me and it was a bit of a nightmare. No one but my local best friend and my ex-husband met him; and they weren’t impressed.

But, now he’s gone. I’ve dated a bit (all mostly younger men) and now have finally met a great guy. He’s my age. I really, really like him. We have a lot of fun when we are together and I’ve been enjoying getting to know him. He doesn’t have a lot of free time, though, so two or three weeks can pass in between our visits. It can be difficult to fill the hours when we can’t be together for the longer stretches. So, once a week I see my best friend for drinks and/or dinner; but mostly watch more, “stuff”.

Until we decide to take the next step forward, maybe have me meet the kids, (which means we can spend more time together because our hours together can slightly overlap with a bit of the time he spends with the kids) or call it quits …. I am not sure what to do.

Because I’ve finished Netflix and my ex has no more viewing recommendations…

Sliding Into 2021 Like….

My ass is on fire, the ground is ice, and I am Wonder Woman.

I mean, as we look at the end of January/beginning of February in the northeast, I could be sliding into anywhere at any given moment. Seriously.

Dating again.

Oooooheeeee! There’s a pandemic out there folks and even without the added burden of that bullshit; a woman of my age only has a few options and 99.9% are apps. Therefore, I went ahead and activated Tinder and Hinge again; and decided to add Bumble to the mix.

I’ll say that I have met several men from Tinder. Two of them were complete liars (unabashedly so: about what they were looking for, likely also not single now that I look back on the circumstances under which we met, and the other crap that they told me). There are still TONS of scammers out there. They are definitely alive and well. If you need some help to hone in on when someone is lying about who they are and where they are from; keep an eye out. Those will be coming soon. Of the rest; I have met three really great people. They are all younger than I am, the range in age varying between 5-16 years.

I never bought into the BS that women have floated for year about men in their late 40’s/early 50’s not being interested in women their own age, but it appears to be true. When women hit my age, we seem to attract men that are either at least 5-10 years older or at least 5 years younger. However, since I’ve been attempting to date again, the most common age of the men I interact with is seems to be 36. Does this bother me? Hell no. I care about the way they carry themselves, their integrity, character, passions, how kind they are to others, whether or not they can laugh at themselves, are passionate about something, etc. When it comes right down to it, age is just an arbitrary number.

I mean, unless it’s been determined by the court to be the age of consent. Then that shit is not arbitrary in the least.

Learning to take a compliment from a younger man has been a bit of a challenge. That generation was brought up to say things to people and not necessarily do things for people. I’ve had to learn this the difficult way since I do not have children. My nieces and nephews have been a huge help where this is concerned and I really appreciate that. So, when my smartass wants to retorte, I have learned to pause and simply say something like, “That’s so very kind of you,” or, “You’re really too kind to me, thank you.”

It seems to work. But, then again, what do I know? [Nothing. Nothing is the answer I’m looking for. Because, I feel like I know nothing at the present time.]

No one likes dating. Certainly no one likes using these ridiculous dating apps, but they are the new evil. [I don’t give a shit if anyone knows how I met someone that I’m with. Do people really still have hang ups about that shit?] I just wish it were a bit easier.

Over the last few weeks there are only two guys that I care about seeing and speaking to, which scares the living fuck out of me. I’m trying desperately not to overthink or self-sabotage. But it’s really not easy for me to believe that not only one, but TWO[yes, TWO] attractive, intelligent, younger men appear to be genuinely interested in me.

I am working very hard to get out of my own head and just go with the flow. I’m trying to enjoy whatever comes, and learn to be happy in the moment. I know that not all men have an “older woman” fantasy, that a lot of them are mature and intelligent enough to evaluate women much in the same way that I view men; but when it comes right down to it I know that it’s really about looks and the shit that was ingrained when they were a kid.

I just don’t feel like I was born with any of the physical stuff.

Damn. I really wish I looked like Lynda Carter….