Two Princes

**********ORIGINAL BLOG DATE WAS 2016... I LEFT IN DRAFT FOR AWHILE. AHEM.

Hey you........I haven't blogged in about a year or so, therefore, if anyone is reading this.....well you'll have to forgive me, 'been kinda busy. I am writing something far more difficult than this blog. I mean really hard. 

Two Princes. I love this song. It's catchy and well....what happened to the Spin Doctors anyway???? Two Princes. 

I've had more than two princes in my life. 

Ummmm by the way,  I am in the middle of getting divorced. 

Yup, strike 2, but you ain't out...

It's easier than I thought it would be..second divorce. No kids together, no property settlement, no hard feelings (I think), just hire a lawyer and get the papers, and BAM, in 90 days we're divorced.

I thought each man I married was a prince. Therefore, I probably acted like a princess. Did I? Yup, I think so.

As each marriage ended I think, crap Maria, get a grip. Maria you suck at relationships. Maria, what the hell do want?

I'll tell you what I want. A regular guy who's a real prince. One who can put up with my moods. One who understands my panic attacks, one who isn't afraid to venture into conversation with my sometimes sick, twisted mind. One who likes the fact that I am a complicated, vulnerable, compassionate, demanding, whiny, witty, self-deprecating perfectionist.

Tall order. Few men can take me on. Probably even fewer princes. I get that.

So what can I do? Change who I am? Hell, no. An inauthentic me would be far worse. I'd get bored. Treat my prince like crap. End up leaving yet another prince.

Well, as this divorce comes to it's close, I realize, I'm no princess. I'm screwed up. And that's okay. We all are.

Oh and by the way, first prince has come back into my life. After 16 years of divorce, this prince knows he's got what it takes to deal with this princess. FINALLY MARIA.

Go for it. Love of my life at 19 years old.

This one wants to call me baby. So go ahead now. 

Love, 

Maria.   
   
     

TO BE HONEST

To be honest.

Writing is what I love. 

To be honest, I am not writing honestly most of the time. That's why I didn't write for a year.

Until I am completely honest in my writing, I am not a writer.

You know, next post, I will be honest.

Stop worrying about who is reading this, cause who cares anyway? 

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. 

Probably have adult ADD. 

To be honest.

Love, 

Maria.

THIS IS 58.

Hey, Judd Apatow, forget about This is 40. 

Think about This is 58.

My husband's best friend has been dead for a month now. Today. One month ago, this man was my husband's best friend, making plans to visit us and now he is dead and his ashes are sitting in an urn somewhere. We're not sure where. We're not sure why.

He wasn't sick. He shouldn't have died. He wasn't addicted to drugs. He wasn't a drunk. He wasn't in a car crash. We're stunned and numb.

This is 58. 

We watch the national news. We are bombarded with commercials warning us about our impending death. Heart disease, diabetes. Foreboding commercials for crash-proof retirement. 

We cannot afford to think about retirement yet. Divorce and remarriage and college debt for our kids screwed that up for us.

This is 58. 

Our backs hurt for no reason. 

Sex isn't everything. It helps, but it ain't everything.


We think our grandson is amazingly beautiful. 
He is the most adorable baby, ever. 

This is 58.

We watch The Dodo on YouTube. Alot.

We are so sick of all the sickos running around our planet.


We like Ray Donovan and The Kominsky Method and Tiger Woods and Bob's Burgers and Netflix and sports and sports and sports.

We did not vote for the current president. 

We miss the 80s. 

We see we what we don't have and we see what we want. We have to hustle to keep up. 

But we don't feel like doing anything. We just want to hit the lottery and pay off all our debt and move and be free.

This is 58. 


Love, 

Maria.

BEEN A LONG LONG TIME

Been about a year since I’ve written anything.

I will catch up soon. Just hate typing on my iPad.

Miss my keyboard.

Love,

Maria.