Heather Locklear and FB – WTF?

Facebook. Mombook. Fakebook. I am sure there are other not so nice names to describe this social media outlet. Some love it. Some hate it. Some hate the ones that love it. Or, something like that.

FB is a great tool and fun pastime. It reminds you of your friends’ birthdays and let’s you “see” what is going on in the lives of your friends and family.

I’m not interested in living my life on FB. You won’t see me parade my relationships on here, either. I enjoy looking at yours, though: perfect gift, perfect flowers, perfect engagement, perfect children, perfect perfect. Everything is perfect. And, when it isn’t, you can toss it off as, “we are just wild and crazy guys.” Do these people look happy? Sure. Makes me wonder. Why are they trying so hard to convince everyone of same? I’m not buying it.

Mostly, I wonder if the problem is with me. I don’t want the entire world to know what I had for breakfast or where I am and whom I’m with. Sometimes I share – but, usually way after I have left. Why am I so secretive? Dunno. It is not like I have anything to hide. But, I just don’t want the world to know what I am doing and whom I am with. I was sandwiched in between the aluminum foil hats (and other things to keep the government out of my head) generation and the “hey, Amazon – let me pay you to spy on me” generation. That could be it. 

Fb , like the cigarette people, did what they could to “addict” us. And it worked, for some. I don’t care about likes, shares, etc. they don’t define me. But, I think we all know someone who spends just a little too much time on there.

What does FB and other social media have to do with Heather Locklear? Read on, brave soul. The gist is – you never know.

Heather Locklear. Beautiful, bubbly, and living a seemingly exciting life. I always wanted to be her. She was cute and perky and she married someone from Motley Crue. I know, I wanted Nikki Sixx. Tommy was easily the best looking of the 4, but I only had eyes for Nikki. Look at her now – a few marriages, drunk driving, rehab, questionable 911 calls and trips to the “hospital”.

I am not sure what her demons are. Mine was divorce. There are probably lots of reasons she seems to be swimming in the bottom of the barrel. But, dang. Get up, girl. You sort of prove my point…you have millions, can still earn millions. She is even gorgeous in her mug shots. Only she could manage that. Family, connections, friends, she seems to have everything and yet, I think she has nothing. It’s sad, really.

For some, it is hard to have sympathy or empathy for rich and beautiful women going through hard times. When Tiger and Elan Nordgren split, I felt quite sad for her. I knew some of what she was going through. Losing so much is so hard. Choosing better instead of bitter can be a struggle everyday, depending on your situation. Maybe I picked myself up because I had to. Kids and bills.

I will be eternally grateful that when I was going through mine, the only things people saw on social media are what I decided what would be shared. I could portray any image I wanted. Poor Heather (any Elan and any other celeb), having to live her shame in front of everyone. When I was in the ugly stages of mine, total strangers would walk up to me and say, “you look like you need a hug”….how bad does someone have to look for strangers to want to help? I am very thankful that I did not have to do mine with headlines judging me and showing lovely pix of me in jail. Of course, I didn’t go to jail, but you know what I mean.

And you know what…people forget the stuff that I have done….hell, even I can’t remember everything I’ve done. I’ve learned to apologize, forgive, get better and move on. Celebs get to live it all again over and over in the immediate aftermath. But, God forbid they make another mistake. All new headlines with timelines of all of their past transgressions. Over and over – making another new story from the rehashing of old news. And, pictures. Ugh. I am glad there were no cell phone cameras to record all of my stupid moves.

It happened again. Another beautiful, but sad, mugshot. You know what would be nice? To quit talking about and rehashing how she and others fell apart. Let’s refuse to enjoy the torture by ink the rags are producing. Let’s refuse to do it to anyone. Let’s start talking about how we are going to help her get herself together again. Or, how we can support her and everyone else, while they are putting themselves back together again. Let’s cut her and everyone else who needs it, some slack. It’s hard, I know – for someone who looks beautiful even on her worst day. But, let’s do it. You don’t know what her life is like. Just like nobody knows what your life is like. No matter what it looks like on FB.

Divorce: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

I’ve decided that Divorce is the gift that keeps on giving, instead of the thing that cut me off at the knees, leaving a barrage of scars. But getting here was a long haul.

And, I’m not saying that in a snarky or sarcastic tone, really.

Since my divorce, I have learned so many new things and am energized and excited in ways I never thought possible, especially at the beginning.  I have updated my resume (this seems easy until you consider my college roommate. She found her most recent resume on a floppy disc), interviewed for many jobs and am on job three post-divorce. I have made new friends, met new people, and learned new things. During my eight days at job number one, I found my lip gloss soulmate (it’s a thing) and learned how to use two monitors. During job number two,  I found new restaurants, stores, and deeper appreciation for cultural differences. Job number three led to my illustrious writing career and without it, you wouldn’t be reading this.

I used to want to stay home every night and watch tv. I still like doing that (way more than I should) but, looking back on my marriage (dinner, watch favorite shows, costco on saturday) that now feels like waiting for my turn to die. Now, I am writing, hanging with friends, finding new things to do. I used to want us to agree on all of our kid-related decisions. We didn’t. Still don’t. But, now I know that we won’t always agree and there is nothing I can do about it. So, I do my thing and he can do his. I have peace.

We had a lot of money. A lot of money. Now, I don’t have a lot of money. I learned how to do more with less, building better relationships with my kids in the process. And, teaching them you don’t need money to enjoy things and you don’t have to be in the front row to enjoy the show.  I’m not arguing that money doesn’t make things more fun, but fun can be had without. I am not necessarily materialistic, but I loved my home and my really nice car. Now, I am free as a bird, not defined by what I drive or where I live. Plus, I’ve learned to find joy and calm even when things are tight.

Before, I wanted my friends and their husbands to like us and want to hang out with us. We had some like that. But, now I have found that I can choose (and choose, I do) who I hang out with and what I do. Much easier and no stress. What can suck about only spending time with the people you choose?

What used to be a loss of all of my holidays has given me the permission to do different things, to make or break traditions. I spent one Thanksgiving or Christmas at the movies. Not crowded. Especially the chick flicks. The theater was filled with men and kids. Which only served to remind me; you don’t have to do all that work, spend all that money, while the ingrates go to the movies. And, you don’t have to spend time with his relatives, especially the assholey ones. Traditions are important, but we have made it our tradition to be flexible and try new things. Instead of making all of the decisions, we make decisions together. While that is more “friendy” than “parenty,” we all enjoy doing the things that we choose to do together.

While I was married, I was worried about my future for a variety of reasons. Now I have a plan for my future that excites me so, I cannot wait to retire. This divorce has given me the opportunity to live a second chapter, or start a whole new book. It has given me strength I never knew I had. It has given me new friends. It has given me new traditions and happier holidays. It has taught me I am creative and flexible and smart. It has given me freedom and joy. It has taught me a lot about parenting. I don’t know if I am a better parent, but I am a different one. I have always been open minded, but now I am not just open, I am receptive to new things.

The most surprising thing, though, is how this experience has enriched my children’s relationships with their parents. In my home, we spend almost all of our time together. If we watch television, we do it together. If we go to the movies, shopping, out to eat, we do it together. We take short road trips and go on local “adventures.” I try not to make other plans, waste time online, or talk on the phone when my kids are home and we are together. While divorce may make it easier to “play” us, it also makes it more difficult to have a favorite parent. I am not sure if this better, but I know if we were married, the relationship would be primary.

While all of these things are true, they are not reasons to divorce. I think it is way better for families to stay together. When that isn’t possible, you need to go through it. It sucks a lot of the time, but some moments of joy seep through. Everyday, I find reasons why divorce keeps giving me presents. And, I am thankful. It wasn’t easy and I had to choose happiness – something that is more difficult than it sounds.

The best thing…divorce has turned me into a perfect girlfriend; I don’t ever want to get married again and I don’t care about money.

I am totally free.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2017!!!

Happy New Year!! 2016 had some tough moments……..but, for me, the bloodshed started in early December, 2015 with the death of Scott Weiland.  My friend and I discussed our shock at the time. His death was unexpected, but not surprising, really.  We discussed how you never really know anything. All the platitudes are true…..”you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone, only the good die young, the future is not promised, each day is a gift”…blah, blah…..I could go on…but, you get it. Anyway….it seemed like only a few days later when Lemmy died. That hurt too. We knew he was sick….just hoped he would dominate it like he dominated metal. And, then in early 2016…Bowie….okay….now it was starting to feel personal…my childhood was dying.  Okay….not really…..how can I explain?  Let’s see….if I were the type of person to record meaningful personal life events on my body…..I would have tats with all of these people for one reason or another. (Of course, the first one would have been of Andy Gibb….but, I digress.)

I know it is not rational to mourn the loss of people you don’t know….but, each of these people touched me in some way that I found significant.  We grew up together.  Or, it felt like we had. So…while I did not cry or attend funerals or memorials….I was sad. Noticeably sad. And, then …Glenn Frey.  RUFKM?  The Eagles is the one band to share one thing……my mother, my daughter and I are all big fans. I remember long road trips with my mom listening to that greatest hits 8 – track over and over and over…..(which is a joke, because 8 – tracks never ended or stopped……more digression.)

So…..this was getting ridiculous.  ( I am not going to go through the whole list…so, stick with me……) The Eagles were on my bucket list. I had missed their most recent tour due to funds and a promise to “go no matter what” next tour.  Well, damn. Not sure if they would tour or not now……but, I am kind of a purist.  You need to have the essence of the band there…..(at the very least) or I won’t go. The Eagles are not the Eagles without Glenn Frey. This made me sad and angry (at people, money, divorce, courts, etc) and not sure what else. It is at this precise moment in time that I find myself at some silent fundraising auction.  And, there on the table is a guitar….signed by most of the Eagles (Okay….more purist…no Randy Meisner….now I have ventured into music minutiae for most of you….) and NOBODY is bidding on it. I have had 2 super strong but very tasty drinks on an empty stomach.  I think it is my job to start the bidding….just to get it rolling…but, surely…..someone will outbid my tiny little $1800 in order to own this piece of American history?  Surely.  

Ha!  I am definitely not Shirley. Nobody outbid me.  And, I didn’t care. I missed their concert dammit…I was getting the damn guitar…because NOBODY OUTBID ME!!! (I don’t have $1800 laying around to buy a $200 guitar with sharpie marks on it. I don’t have $18 laying around for the same thing.) I had buyer’s remorse for a little bit….but, I really got to thinking……..I could have gone to the show and taken my mom and daughter for less than I paid for that damn guitar.  Which would have been great for many reasons but, mostly because my Mom has passed since.

So…….I decided.  Life is short. Enjoy it. Eat dessert first……blah blah….Okay really…..if there is something I want…..I spend a little time evaluating my level of want, cost, etc.  If I will regret not going…then, I need to bite the bullet and find a way to make it happen (whatever it is….concert, dinner, trip, shoes, shot glasses, whatever).  

It is at this precise moment in time that I find myself at work, reading a review of the most recent GNR show in Las Vegas.  I had thought it was a one time reunion.  I was incorrect. They were on tour.  Well, hell…..tickets must be sold out, right?   No, they were not. I could score some fairly good seats in the next 2 minutes for the low low low cost of $275.

Each.

You have to buy 2. So you don’t have to sit and experience this alone.

Even if you have no one to take.  Well…that isn’t fair……I have plenty of people to take….but, who will appreciate it $275 worth? And, don’t forget driving, parking, food, drinks, dinner…….(I skipped the souvenir….hahaha). But, $275 EACH?  WTF?  And I was under pressure….because I just knew if I didn’t buy tickets right this minute…they will sell out and there will never be another tour and, and, and…..well.  I bought them. Life is short.  And, then I called the one person in the world I thought would not think I was out of my mind. He works in radio, is a musician, lover of music, and manages bands and organizes tours. His reply, “We were just discussing this at work…..what does the person look like that would spend that much money to see that band?”

Me….that stupid person would look like me. I blamed it on Glenn Frey and the damn guitar.

It really has been on ongoing process for me. For the last few years, I have been giving up expectations, setting goals, and being thankful for EVERYTHING!  People probably think I’m the village idiot..walking around happy all the time with a big dumb grin on my face….but, I don’t care.  I’m happy. I’m not judging.  I still get disappointed and sad…but, not as often.  Seems when you spend so much time being thankful and working towards goals, that is what happens……you are happy and content.  Well.  That is what happened to me. Not everyday is a warm sunny beach. But, the beach, on a crappy day, is still the beach. And, I LOVE the beach.

And, that is the very long explanation for why I didn’t hate 2016.  I had a great year. I was thankful for all experiences…I achieved some goals…….I sat around thinking how happy I was.  Have I discovered the key? The key to being happy?  I am a fairly happy person anyway. But, this year…..I am sooooo happy. 2016 cut my childhood away in tiny little slices…..and, then it died. Maybe it needed to. Maybe because of all of this. Or in spite of it, I became more present this year. AWESOME!

Is This What I have Become?

So…it happened today. I was writing a blog post….a simple, funny story about paper towels. About paper towels in the bathroom. At work. The post was G rated in content, R rated in language……until….I had reached the build up (look…..it is happening again…used “build up” instead of something less sexual) and was ready to deliver the punch line. And, instead of a funny story…..thoughts of sex and nakedness and spanking and punishment started to wander into my mind and onto my pages.

Aaaahhhhh.  I am an average woman with a private Catholic school background and a mostly vanilla history. My “foray” into writing erotica was a fluke. A complete accident. I didn’t set out to write or even publish it. And, now……now……that is all I can write? Not sure if that makes me laugh or, or….okay….laugh is my only reaction. Because this is the most preposterous thing….EVER!!!!

Until about 10 years ago….I didn’t enjoy the sex written in books. Most of what I read had short, boring scenes that usually started and ended with “and the lights went out.” I sped through those passages like it was an Olympic event. And, that is if they had sex scenes at all. I fast forwarded most sex scenes when I was watching a movie. I didn’t watch porn. I have always felt that whatever was done between 2 (or more) adults was up to them. I don’t care. I don’t judge. And I really don’t want to know.  When I was younger, a friend of mine returned from a safari trip. Her dog sitter had left one of her personal sex toys behind.  Where did my friend find it? I don’t know. What kind of toy was it? I don’t know. What color was it? I don’t know. What did my friend do with it? I don’t know. Do you know why I don’t know? Because recalling the story as she told it to me made me blush for years. I never asked. I don’t know and I didn’t want to know. And then a lot of random stuff happened. Each and every occurrence dancing me one step closer to Erotica Writer Extraordinaire…….  And, now…..well, you know…..I want to know where she found it; what it was; how she gave it back…….

So….here I am…..erotica ebook publisher and blogger of sex. How did this happen? When did it happen? And how long is this conversation going to bring giggles to my lips? One thing led to another. Tiny little steps or circumstances that gave no indication of where the path would wind to. And, at the time, the path had no direction. There was no “goal”. It was just life. Get a divorce. Get a job. Get another job. Write a love letter. Write a story. Write a book. Because you are having a little dry spell, write about sex. And, the rest is just a slippery slope of being open to new experiences and new opportunities.

It is true that with age comes wisdom….well, it is for me.  I know now that you should just “do” stuff. Try it. If you like it, do it again.  If you don’t, stop doing it. But, it is in the learning of new things or the path less traveled or the “open attitude” that brings the greatest enjoyment. Every experience, every conversation, every decision shapes you and challenges you to change with it. I have been embracing every single opportunity for a few years now. I no longer cringe at the thought of change. Now, I run towards it. I have become a happier, more fulfilled, more joyous, more content, more enthusiastic liver of life than I ever was.  And, that is fucking fantastic.

Today, though, I had to pause. Have I become a part of this world that I am teasing at the edges of? I don’t mind the writing or publishing of what could be called pornographic material. But, I never wanted to become part of the “business”. Is that what I am now? Part of the business? My younger, reluctant to change self, would have spent the next several days agonizing. Wise, experienced Bianca says…….FUCK IT. Don’t waste the worry. You are not going to become someone your children won’t recognize. I have been though some life and know that I will do only what makes sense to me. I am aware I don’t want to degenerate. So, I won’t. Simple as that.

If I had any lingering doubt, I put it out with this…….who am I? What have I become?  “I have become a happier, more fulfilled, more joyous, more content, more enthusiastic liver of life than I ever was.  And, that is fucking fantastic. ”

Fuck yeah it is.

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