Names and Other Issues

She’s whining. She wants people to come to “our” blog, but since I’ve only barely given up the old one, I’m a bit leery of going forth with the new one so quickly. What if I bomb? What if I realize (once school starts up again) that I cannot keep it going because I’m too wiped from ducking and dodging my students to write anything.

“She” is my partner, and my best friend. She’s also my oldest friend and the topic of more than one post from the old blog. There, she was known as Killer, but after much discussion, it’s been decided that things need to change, and her blog moniker is one of them.

Unfortunately, she still hasn’t decided what she wants me to call her on the blog, so for now she’ll remain nameless.

So, what brings me to this blog? How did I land here and what’s with the name?

My old life was one of plenty and ease and deep familiarity. There was also a rather strong case of complacency that kept me at odds with myself. It was hard to give up what I had, but at the same time, I knew if I didn’t, both my ex and I would probably end up bitter and resentful of me.

Personally, I didn’t like the thought of that, so I did the unthinkable and walked away from it.

I’m not going to say I never looked back, because I did on occasion, but the regrets were small and based mostly on creature comforts that I had taken for granted. Those comforts weren’t the basic necessities, rather they were the fun things like shopping, dining out, and knowing that if an appliance broke, we could get it replaced immediately. I didn’t have to worry about paying the bills, because that was my ex’s job and he was very good at it.

Now, my income is about 1/8th of what it had been while married. It goes up to ¼ if I include my partner’s share. I have to remember to pay the bills when they’re due. Hell, I have to remember just what bills ARE due every month. Yay for auto pay.

Despite all that comfort, I wasn’t happy because both my husband and I like women. We split over irreconcilable similarities not differences. Believe it or not, that is not conducive to a happy marriage.

He knew about my preferences, I had told him ten years prior to our divorce, so it wasn’t a total surprise when I told him it was time to split the sheets. It wasn’t easy for either of us, but we’ve managed to remain on good terms and as time passes, it gets easier.

Falling in love with my best friend of 40 years was a pretty easy step. She moved in shortly after he moved out, but it wasn’t because we were ready for a relationship. She needed a place to live, and I couldn’t afford to live on my own. Our friendship grew and blossomed (quickly) into something more and took its natural course, right into pandemonium.

It wasn’t easy to blend our two families. Not that the kids weren’t accepting of our relationship (although my youngest was pretty pissed off about the divorce and decided to live with his father), but the joining of two groups is generally a difficult thing and as a result there have been lots of changes.

Her older son moved in with HIS dad, my older son moved into my garage (don’t worry, we put a bed and some other “furnishings” out there). Right now, we’re calling the hot water heater “art” because it makes him feel better. The “him” in that last sentence is my son, not the hot water heater. Her younger son is living in what used to be called “the Minion Nest” and he shares that space with the cats and assorted spiders that come to visit from the attic.

The offspring all had cute little names like Middle Minion (who became Bubba), Most Minor Minion (who became Thing), Monkey Boy (a.k.a. Beans) and Li’l Red. Cute. The female offspring also had cute names like Spawn and The Hair.

There were the cats known as the Furry Beasts 1, 2, 3, and 4; the dogs I referred to as Elder and Younger Hound; and I lived in The Manor with my husband the Lord Of The Manor (a.k.a. LOTM).

My mother was known as Grande Dame of the Universe and my father was The Prince Consort (or PC)

Lots of cute names fitting for that time of my life.

Now, Bubba doesn’t want to be known as Bubba, but like my partner, we’re still not sure what to call him. It’s a tough choice; how much of my past do I bring into this blog? My past is still there, my children are clear evidence of it, so it is not something that can be ignored. Moving forward is not always easy, no matter how necessary it may have become. I’ll try to keep looking the right direction and not drag too much of “the good old days” into my world.

After all, I’ve found a love I never knew existed and despite the hardships we’ve endured through financial problems and other moments of “ohjustfuckingkillmenow” I’m happy. I want to move forward. I can look back and smile but not linger, because that road ahead has a special lane for people like me. It’s the scenic route through a whole new world.

So climb aboard and fasten your seatbelts as we take a trip in the Dyke Lane.