There was a time when I would have rushed to my blog to say that Bone is fine. But as he’s one of the few people who reads this blog these days…..I’m well read on PPsychology Today so don’t cry for me…

Now I’m on vacation–had visitors, for Intersession, of the college student kind. Little Luce who isn’t so little anymore and her incredibly wonderful boyfriend. They give me faith….

So does Bone coming through this unscathed. I can’t believe how scared I was.

A friend of a lifetime went into the hospital last week with Multiple Myeloma. Then Phoebe Snow died who I don’t even know but….Then the tornadoes.

I first became close, to Bone, during Katrina when I noticed how genuinely kind and good he was to people who were directly affected. One woman had a son in Iraq and a son missing for a time in Bayou Country. I thought he was worth becoming friends with and never regretted that. Need him around to blog about life in Boneville with the Bonefamily&friends–he’ll have a celeb abbrev for that, I know.

We’ve always joked about his father’s insistence on getting into cars and driving around during tornadoes. I was never going to laugh at anything tornado related again however I heard from Bone last night when he got sporadic cell reception and now he has electricity. His family and weather–OK his father is worse, than me on keeping on top of weather, if that’s possible. Though he doesn’t get moldy, soggy, languid and sometimes depressed in spring rain–but come alive in summer humidity as I do,

This weather spate–I don’t know; it’s crazy, uncontrollable and scary.

But for now I’m just glad the Bone family is alright.
¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶
Places to help for Alabama Please in the name of one of the least prejudiced people I know, Bone, we’re all purple today and don’t say you don’t want to help a racist. Then they’ll look at color, political party, home ownership–does the person have insurance and finally relgion. We need none of that now!!!!

Sometimes this world hurts.  And by this world I mean the world of social media where people proclaim their expertise and want to teach you their tricks every damn day.  For a price of course.  They usually don’t even have a Google Page Rank, even a bad one like mine is currently or a proven track record but they’re experts just the same.  I want their chutzpah but my overblown sense of morals prohibits me from charging for something I’m not truly an expert in.

I have an overblown moral and ethical value portion of my brain but I don’t believe in God so my values are false to a lot of people–I’m talking both blogging (remember Pastor Craig on BIO?) and real world, here. I keep expecting Kevin Bacon to sweep into town….Oh we still do allow dancing though some of the clubs have been closed for more Godly ventures such as diners.  Southern diners complete with fat as a food group.  Our just chicken restaurant–don’t get me started on how unhealthy it is.

Back to the Internet.  Where I wasn’t supposed to be allowed to have opinions because some way sick radical rightists decreed so.  And the people I political blogged with would have rather seen blog than back me so it was up to my friends who I thank profusely and will always care about.

It’s hard for me to read blogs not by long time blogging friends as I read about being raped or getting nasty comments and people will comment about the blogger’s courage and how nobody talked about such things before.

Hello, here I am. Bet you weren’t told you kill little children because you’re pro-choice, etc, etc.  There was a time when I had to have Bone and The Wombat google me because it was too scary to look myself.

I did hate it and can’t help but want it validated that everything people talk about now as fresh and noteworthy is somewhere in the abyss called Courting.  I know how sick it sounds.  Credit for having blogs set up to diss me; blog posts changed to make me look like an idiot; comments that made me cringe.

The day I realized you weren’t going to go to bloggers hell for deleting was a wonderful one.

But I guess four-six years ago is too long in the new world of social media where all that matters is how many tweets you get.

I’m jaded.  I understand that.  I was so psyched about Psychology Today and the day after I was offered it Congresswoman Giffords was shot and that took the wind out of my sails.  I can’t help feeling nor would I want to change that about me.  But I wish I could have had one week no one month of pure enjoyment.  It’s that damn overblown sense of conscience and caring.

Summer’s coming and I’m getting my house ready.  But something inside me feels so sad as if I had a chance and blew it.  I’m good at not seeing what’s in front of me.  Maybe what’s in front is pure joy.  I hope.  I know I deserve it.  And it’s not going to cost anybody $499 plus materials and shipping & handling

I’ve been blogging since we blogged uphill both ways.*  Really.  I barely knew what a blog was.  For the first four months I did it strictly for myself.  Then I found a blogging association most of us love to leave out of our blogging resumes.  The next  morning I found myself in an alternate universe I sometimes think is my real life.  People bookmarked me.  OK I got that.  But the link exchange–uh, what’s a link?

I learned this new world, though the learning curve was long and high,  and began to meet people through emails.  Gmail didn’t have IM then and I swear AOL chat would crash my computer.

Anyways as the Wombat says, I discovered amazing uh esoteric people.  Many who are much younger than I am.  Like in: I first knew them when they were in their late teens.  Having young exceptionally bright friends forces me to think and challenge my views on some subjects.  They remind me of the best of me–those years when everything was new, almost always fun except if it was horrific.  And while the world was in horrible shape I knew I was destined for a wonderful future.  And it happened!

The Wombat is an amazing person and friend.  He has opinions (learned and scholarly) on almost everything,  appreciates James Spader like nobody but me, while being straight.  Has one of those great storybook Boston families that actually has camping reunions.  And so much more.  He’s an incredible helpful, thoughtful friend.

His current post, mostly on Egypt has an unusual, different and really almost commonsense take.  He talks about things other people don’t.

Uh government workers have joined the protesters.  I so hope this is a revolution for good and the betterment of the Egyptian people.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now I blog for Psychology Today and my latest post was called an essential read, by Psychology Today.  Not that I’m bragging or anything.  Yeah me!!!!! (I never say things like this and lately….)

I’ll take essential read anyway I can!!!!!!!

My first blog post in Psychology Today

Almost six and a half years ago this began as a blog about my life and interests. My friend said “let’s begin blogs.”  I almost asked what one was but had heard of Anna Marie Cox then known as the Wonkette.  I am very political.

Somehow people enjoyed my stories and my blog took off.

I lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan then in a luxe doorman building I wouldn’t have been able to afford moving into in 04. Read more…

About five years ago or more, that is a century or two ago, in blogging years, I met Shayna, former blogger of My Music Highway, who is now  at Ordinary Miracle

Blogging was different then.  It was more fun, at least for me.  We were making it up as we went along.  No rules meant no structure that had to be followed. There were a large group of us, each different in style and subject, who commented and encouraged one another.  There were times it felt revolutionary.  Other times like college or first jobs right after.

I don’t remember exactly how I met Shayna but I remember she introduced me to worlds I hadn’t known before–soldiers who were actually in Iraq, for one.

What it was like to grow up musical in Nashville.  I always did love the worlds of the South.

You could call Shayna a mommy blogger as she had one baby son then and later had another. You can’t help but love Shayna’s boys.  Her son Will turned six the same day my niece turned sixteen, 9/19. and both have grown up a bit too fast.  Shayna involves you in her family but in the sweetest and most protective of ways.

But to call Shayna a mommy blogger would be to do a disservice to an incredible person who can’t be categorized.

She’s compassionate, bright, beautiful, a musical talent and a wonderful writer who puts you in the moment of her stories.

I had a blogging accident today and contacted Shayna and ended up with the template of my dreams.

Welcome to the new and way improved, Courting Destiny.

We thank you Shayna and hope you’re coming back to the blogging world but so understand if life keeps you too busy.

And we love you

There’s a “real” 3WW post beneath this

If I were a better blogger I would be going to Blogher which is taking place in New York in August (not on my birthday weekends) so I truly have no excuse not to go other than fear of not being known, and a general hatred of large gatherings in which I don’t have a central role. (Hey at least I’m honest.)
If I were a better blogger I would have a reader and comment on at least 100 blogs a week.
If I were a better blogger I would have a brand that I was known for so people wouldn’t be confused when they read my blog about what I write about–anything and everything.
And if I were a better blogger my blog could easily translate into one book; not 20 on vastly different subjects.
If I were a better blogger I would have a kid or three so I could write cute knowing stories and be offered products to place other than horrible books that I’m expected to write glowing reviews of–I don’t.
If I were a better blogger I would focus on making as many Facebook and Twitter friends as possible rather than just having fun on Facebook.
If I were a better blogger I would be 20 years younger than I am or face being “old” and write for Eons (I’m not into nostalgia in the traditional sense so this doesn’t work.)
If I were a better blogger I would know HTML well and figure out what’s wrong with my blog so that it shows on readers and Networked blogs. (Honestly because of my disability I don’t even try.)
If I were a better blogger I would use my disability for fame and fortune. Though when you have NLD it’s easy to be bright and verbal and almost impossible to figure out a game plan.
If I were a better blogger I would have a game plan despite my inability to figure one out.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
When I began blogging six years ago this month nobody I knew had heard of blogs. They patronized me for caring. Then my blog became read and got publicity. Only I found my life blog-centric which wasn’t helping me get published or make money. Now that blogs are the way to godliness and a better more wonderful life I have about as much desire to keep my blog up as I have to become Mother Teresa.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
I keep my blog as I still believe I’m talented. I might be lacking in self-esteem but I know how to tell a story. I don’t feel comfortable in this world of shameless self promotion (not that it’s called that anymore) but I’m not sure I feel totally comfortable in the world at large.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
The only thing that I’m bitter about is not knowing I had NLD at least ten years ago. I could have planned my life better while I was still comparatively young. Blogging would have come after writing, not before it.
However I didn’t. Now that I have my house and life somewhat together I can finish what I began so long ago. I always begin years in September–will always be on a school year calender even if most begin in August now.

This is my year and welcome to it.

For the months of August and September I’m putting in old posts. If you have any favorites….Might do this through the end of the real year. That way I can clean my blog and focus on things more important to me while letting people see what I have done

I wrote this for Redroom

It’s the first half-decent thing I have written since April.

I don’t believe a disability is an ability turned backwards or whatever that expression is. I have spent my life seeking help. I don’t know how many hundreds of thousands of dollars first my parents then I spent on therapists, testing and much more.

It reached the point where I would write people famed in various disciplines all dealing with either work or mental health or both. Anybody who knows me just a bit knows how hard it is for me to reach out. It’s much easier for me to help others. And I have had career success. It was I who always thought I could do much better even when my evaluations were near perfect.

They either ignored me or told me to find work in a sheltered workshop. I’m more educated than many of them and certainly write as well or better. The later (sheltered workshop) would have killed me and I know that.

So much was happening in my personal life it never occurred to me to look for jobs the normal way, or the way I had before my life became encased in tragedy and uh blogging which for awhile I thought would lead to so much. I had the stats, the readers, the writing–everything but I was “difficult,” not young and trendy. I didn’t blog about one subject. I did everything wrong and yet I created something wonderful and will always be grateful for this blog. I think I tell good stories.

I hope to have years more. While I truly don’t have a desire to write a memoir as I like writing in other forms more, I know that knowledge about non verbal learning disorder (NLD) is lacking. I aim to change that.

Many people with NLD have a difficult time conceptualizing order and I understand that’s what’s been holding me back. Understanding is just part of the solution though. So I found me a great editor!

The long hot summer continues and beginning Friday I will have a house filled with people for a week. I need them–Godchildren and significant others. I feel so lucky that people who are related to me through friendship actually want to visit me!
Comments are off here as once again this is a totally self-centered post.

Marinade Dave (Dave Knechel) was one of my early close blogging friends. Dave goes to the Casey Anthony trial–her daughter Caylee was brutally murdered and blogs about it. His blog has become a sensation. I’m a true crime junkie and fascinated by it. But lately he’s been getting some horrible comments. Knowing a …lot about horrible comments I wrote a post for it–and you get to see my old blog template!

What happens when you can write forever?  Edit yourself pretty decently?  But the outline and what is this about?  Ha!!!!!!

I need to get this book finished.  I have never wanted something so much.  I’m beginning to lose focus and one thing I’ve always had when it came to writing or work in general was focus.  I don’t want to be “she has NLD, so of course she can’t do it.”  No I don’t want that at all.

Shayna did the graphic years ago.  I would use it for my blog template as I love it but white writing on black–no!  I’m thinking of getting cards made with the info on the back. Whenever I can’t do,  I design cards.  Kind of like a nervous tic

And when I don’t design cards I do home improvement.  Constantly.  Eldon, the contractor turned handyman turned house husband replaced some boards on the patio deck this morning.  I looked at Darryl’s house next door and wondered why when he had his deck redone he used the same ancient boards–new ones would cost $400-$500 total; composite about a thousand.  Too pricey for me but if my boards looked so bad nobody would want to set foot on the patio I would borrow from myself for the bazillionth time.  (Our homes are called patio houses as they have large decks on the second floor; I love living in a beach cottage all year round)

I only wondered about Darryl’s boards because Darryl told me how much federal taxes he paid this year. Did I ask?  Of course not.  Were we discussing taxes or money or anything like that?  Of course not.  I like Darryl a lot. He’s my de facto attorney and has given me great legal advice.  But in NY while money is the primary subject of conversation, next to real estate and schools, nobody ever says specific numbers except for real estate sales.  Here people spout out numbers.  Find that strange.

Next week the gate to my downstairs deck will be painted.  Then I hope home improvement spring 2010 will be over.  Though I welcome the distractions.  But please, I need to work.  Really work.  I’m losing faith in myself and that’s always a bad thing.

Though I’m calm enough to lie down on a chaise and read.  I’m never this calm.  Never!!  I hope calmness doesn’t equal lack of ambition.

A really good article on Kathryn Bigelow, a woman worth emulating

I feel old. Not old in years though….but old as a blogger.  It amazes me how psyched so many people are about it.  I would rather train for a marathon than become active in the myriad of organizations that have sprung up.

I tell myself that I have totally shook my life up in the past two years and building a new one is exhausting.  I tell myself I have accomplished so much.  Then I tell myself that anybody with some money could buy, renovate and decorate a house.  Finding a good Eldon, the house husband, was a stroke of luck.

OK, it was and it wasn’t.  I asked everybody I met, and used the man who did exceptional work at a reasonable price.  That we became friendly and he feels responsible, for my house and I, is an added bonus.  I’m not ashamed to say that second to last phrase.

I have made more friends than I expected to here.  And have found that people genuinely care about one another.  Yes I know that whole “Southerners are nice on the outside but will talk behind your back,” bit but what do New Yorkers do?  Are we so great that we never talk about each other?  We talk about our best friend to our other best friend in the name of helping.

Here I find people more honest as I’m a curiosity and they ask questions. Not all, and not all overtly but despite my disability I can read people.  Why did I even say that last part?  Get me away from Facebook groups for my own sanity.  Please!

It’s not just them.  I do exercise boot camp.  Greg shows me something.  I think how simple it is, understand it, and then promptly forget it.  A metaphor for life.  It’s much simpler than I make it to be and probably easily remembered.  Oh God I hope this isn’t a metaphor for dementia.

It is overwhelming to learn the name of the disability I have had all my life and not be able to find professional help.  Though I’m so much better than I tell myself and the world I am and really should remember that.

I wish I could be psyched as a blogger but all I think is that I turn people off.  I no longer do politics, family stories, stories about the longest youth in America, and stories about New York.

There aren’t many fish out of water stories because I don’t feel like one which I suppose is a good thing.

I’m jaded.  Yes I look as if I’m from a different generation than many women my age but when we talk we all have the battle wounds and scars.

I’m going to New York a week from Wednesday for the holidays. While I’m excited to see people and am praying for good weather for many reasons, I’m not excited about going to the city itself.  Yet one of the reasons I’m praying for good weather is so I can walk the best museum in the world, the streets of Manhattan. Oh maybe the streets of London and Venice are better but New York’s home.

It feels very strange not to be a New Yorker anymore.  How could that be?  Though all the above is true, my identity is as a New Yorker.  It’s hard for me to immerse myself in blogging groups as I not shed an identity but add a top layer of skin.

The past month I have been decorating.  I didn’t want to buy things for the walls until I had been living here for at least ten months.  I kept only the art that’s most personally meaningful to me.  I did something really cool and unexpected with the bedroom and won’t say what until people come from Atlanta and New York.

The living room looks great.  I have been adding touches of the  paint Eldon and Jimbo call shower brush pink as I had it made from one. I should add the Lancome ice blue lip gloss to the master bedroom wall as I had the paint made from that.  The living room is a Lancome soft pink.

The one wall that had nothing now has just enough on it. I never want my walls to look cluttered. I couldn’t stay in a neighbor’s house as every space had something on it.  I lost all ability to think.

As it is I think I really need to structure my closets this week and unpack the last boxes though I have no room for five hundred CD’s unless I get plastic envelope books.  I also have to get a safety deposit box and organizing supplies for the office.  I think that will seriously help my mojo.

Give me the Internet, a category of things to buy and a budget, and I’m in heaven.  Though all those hours scrolling seem grating while doing.

I have a perfectly great couch but really wanted slipcovers for  retro and shabby chic looks.  I was going to have them made but why spend the money and the time if you can find them on the Internet?  I have never had slip covers before; I had couches reupholstered.  But machine washable slipcovers?

I guess I could have a blogging niche on houses and decorating.  I’ve never been a blogging niche person and I don’t want to feel that I must blog.   Blogging only when I want to feels like a vacation.

The weather’s becoming nice.  I’m expanding my downstairs deck.  The only way I can–sideways, to keep my chaises out of the way.  I have almost the same amount of furniture outside my house that I have in it.  I love living outside from mid spring through the end of fall.  Well I don’t know about mid-spring because this is my first complete one in the house, and I thought spring here was from the beginning of March….My bad….Or the weather’s been bad.

I guess I need a couple of weeks of late afternoon to night walks on the beach and around town. Boot camp’s at 8AM.  Not my finest hour to be out and about yet I’m very social then so I want to talk to people which isn’t quite the purpose.  Come five PM, I want solitude.

This is a period of adjustment and I shouldn’t feel melancholy or defensive about it.  I have to buy a new doorbell and I keep thinking I want one that plays, “show me the way home, I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” But it sounds so welcoming, not.

Then I begin to think about every song about home with “stairway to heaven,” the obvious stupid choice.  And then every Doors song.

My mind is still a very strange thing.  Yes to those who asked it can be donated to science.

♡❤♥♡❥♡♥❤♧♡♡♡♥♥♡❤❤❤❤❤♡♡♡♡♥♥♡

My niece participated in National History Day. She and her Jericho team came in second, out of 23, for “best senior presentation,” for both Nassau and Suffolk. Next is the state finals in Cooperstown. She’s a sophomore so she has two more years to compete uh learn perfect research. Go girl!!!!!!!