“Oh no. Definitely not her. She’s a witch.” —me, shouting in my sleep per The Mayor
“Oh no. She outbid her!” —me, despondent in my sleep and clearly watching too much Price is Right!
I had planned on taking all of today off so I could watch RedZone and crochet all day. Alas, a pleading email came this morning and I have my laptop open. It’s not the same, but I’ll take a day off later in the week.
I decorated my sunroom for Halloween. It makes me happy whenever I come in the house.
I took a brain break during work today and crocheted a granny square that I had to frog 3 times before I figured out I had done something wrong in the first round. Once I finished it I went back to physics because obviously basic math was failing me.
It’s my BFF’s birthday today! We got to catch up over the phone for a bit, something very rare because he is juggling school, work, and social life. I missed getting a birthday hug from him this year, but he was thrilled with the wrestling shirt and vulgar dish cloths I sent him.
SNL came back for the season last night. Which means we have something to watch in between the end of the 4 pm games and the beginning of SNF. I don’t know who is more excited, me or The Mayor.
The beginning of September has been challenging mentally. While I am normally prepping for my fall week of mania, where my mind is aflutter with all of the ideas and creative projects I want to prep for the winter, I have been hit with a mild depression instead. This is totally out of the norm, and I think is a direct result of feeling empathy for J for two significant life changes she went through recently. I think my “mompathy” kicked in and all of the grief that she is too busy to feel right now hit me like a ton of bricks.
It started around Thursday the 10th and persisted over the weekend. I told my workout buddy that I was feeling down and didn’t know how to snap out of it. I tried exercise. I tried good food and lots of water. I tried sleep. I tried doing something good for the community. Nothing seemed to work. Finally on Tuesday night I meditated and asked the universe how long I had to be sad, because I could be sad for my daughter, but I needed an end time. I heard back 70 more hours. I could do that. That’s less than three days. I could do three days.
On Wednesday morning, a friend’s post on my Facebook feed reminded me to leave room for magic, and I reminded myself that the magic of the universe dictated I only had two more full days of feeling down. My workout buddy brought me a gift basket with a rainbow rose, fine chocolates, a pair of fuzzy socks and a Teen Beat magnet she found with Corey Haim, Kirk Cameron, and other 80’s heart throbs. I was so touched that she cared for me and wanted to help lift my spirits.
Later that evening we went to Coyote Wisdom, a mystic shop near Old Town, with our friend and crochet teacher. We looked at all of the crystals and spells and tarot cards and all of the other whimsical, magical trinkets that a mystic shop holds. I picked up a worry stone that had “Healing” inscribed on it and a rainbow crystal necklace. The three of us then went to dinner at Cancun, my most favorite Mexican restaurant that happens to be in downtown Grand Ledge, half a mile from my house. We laughed and gabbed over Mexican food and chips and queso, and I forgot how healing it is to be with other women. I mean, I can tell my BFF anything, but he is a dude and sometimes things call for a woman’s perspective. I haven’t had true girlfriends like my workout buddy and crochet teacher (I would use their initials, but they both have initials that match my kids’ initials and that just gets confusing) since college, and I feel like I can be my true self around them and they accept me without judgment. It is only by the magic of the universe that we crossed paths to begin with, and our connection is truly cosmic.
On Thursday I woke up feeling lighter, and I could visualize my happiness meter at 90%. One more day. At that thought, I felt immensely better and The Mayor and I went to BJs, where I whistled back at the robot and picked up a halloween shirt. When the theme from Flashdance came on over the loudspeaker and I couldn’t help but wiggle, I knew I would be okay.
By Friday morning I had a psychiatrist’s appointment, and I was back to normal. I filled him in on my recent sadness and he was supportive and affirmed my pinpoint of the trigger. It was so important that I didn’t get stuck in the sadness—I asked for a sign from the universe, was told 70 hours, and my body responded. I don’t know if I tricked myself into feeling better or if biochemically I just needed to process all of the changes in my sphere and it just took about a week. Either way, I feel better.
On Saturday, we celebrated a return to normalcy. It was Mystery Date day, the Destiny version, where I surprised the Mayor with a mystery date this time. We went to a glass blowing class at Delphi Glass, where our instructor Roy walked us through blowing glass into decorative pumpkins. For the very first time, we did an activity that neither of us had done before and we had no skills whatsoever, so neither of us had any advantage. It was such a wonderful experience. I went first and when I tapped my pumpkin off the rod, my entire face lit up with joy. I was so proud of the Mayor for being open to trying something new and for creating something beautiful with his own hands. We ended Saturday with an impromptu trip to see Jim Gaffigan at the Fox Theater in Detroit. The Fox is architecturally stunning and Gaffigan was a treat. It was a perfect evening.
I am grateful to my friends, who continue to lift me up when I need it. I am grateful to The Mayor, who supports me when I am not 100% and celebrates me when I am. And I am grateful for the magic of the universe, that somehow places messages that I need to see within my scope. They reminded me to leave room for magic to happen, and when I did, I was not disappointed.
The Mayor has followed my lead and is adding stickers to the calendar every time he gets a workout in. His are motivational like, “Great Job!” or “Well done,” while mine are just different smiley faces. My smileys filled the first half of the year, but have been sporadic over the past few months, but with The Mayor adding his, and my new twice weekly workout class, we are going to have this calendar filled with stickers by the end of the year!
We went to a party at a neighbor’s house on Saturday night so The Mayor could meet all my friends from The Hook Up (what we call our crochet group). It was so much fun to socialize and get to know my friends and their kids and spouses more. And bonus points for it being three houses away, so we hauled our cookies, meatballs, and lawnchairs 400 feet down the road and meandered back home when we were ready.
I found my custom “I am Destiny!” Chuck Taylors and I forgot how uncomfortable they are. I spent most of my twenties in Chucks and my feet just aren’t made that way anymore. I will still sport them for special occasions, but for everyday walking around, they are retired.
Two of my friends spent the better part of Labor Day cleaning and purging parts of their house. I finished a 100 page article and got in some Switch Bowling and Swordfighting with The Mayor. I’d say we killed it in productivity on what is supposed to be a day of rest.
We went to Tractor Supply to get some gummy cherries because I have been informed they have the best. This is actually true. I picked some up for Ez’s care package too and we said hello to the baby chicks who were peeping and cheeping.
I had a zoom with R last night and at one point she was talking about something that she really loved and was passionate about and her whole face lit up. Like she had this inner glow that just radiated. It was so nice to see her so happy and comfortable.
My mom is coming in town for my birthday this year, I am starting a crochet class on Friday, and I am committed to two 5:30 a.m. workouts a week for the months of September and October. I would say I’m going to be ringing in the last year of my 40s in great fashion!
Thursdays are our half-day. I am up early for my 5:30 workout class, so I get straight to work when I get home at 6:30 after I get the coffee going. The Mayor usually rouses by 7 or 7:30 and joins me with his laptop. This past Thursday, we worked until 12:30 and then The Mayor and I took off on Mystery Date #2 to parts unknown to me.
In anticipation, I put on my new flowy black pants that I got on clearance at Meijer, a knit top, and my custom Chuck Taylor’s, so I felt hip and cute for once. I could tell The Mayor is getting familiar with the area because we headed east on 96 and he didn’t need directions until 45 minutes into our trip. Our first stop on the mystery date? The Mayor was treating me to a shopping spree at Unwind Yarn Shop in Brighton, just outside of Ann Arbor. I went in and fingered all of the fibers, as I love to do, and hemmed and hawed over what I would be bringing home. Not wanting to go overboard, I picked a bundle of 20 mini-hanks in various blues and greens that I have dreams of making granny square sleeves with on an upcycled hoodie. I reluctantly put back a gorgeous sparkly teal skein that I couldn’t justify spending the $37 on without a project in mind.
We then braved three double roundabouts in a row (We went from one roundabout directly into another and then another. It was wild and we hope to never do it again!) on our way to OC Sportscards so The Mayor could get some time in his happy place searching for cards. I parked myself on the “girlfriend couch” in the front of the store with Wheel of Fortune on the tv so he could pick in peace and I could text my friends in The Hookup about my mystery date. I couldn’t stop thinking about that sparkly teal and I wrestled with my fiscal prudence versus my letting go and letting myself be spoiled. Suddenly I got an email from State Farm letting me know that I was the recipient of a dividend totalling 5 times the amount of the sparkly teal that I passed on. A sign from the Universe? I immediately thought I would ask to return to Unwind to buy that skein, but little did I know he had a whole other yarn shop next on the list.
We battled parents and students in downtown Ann Arbor since it was dropoff week for University of Michigan and found Spun yarn shop. We put 30 minutes on the meter and went into the galleria of shops to check out their offerings. The Mayor was thrilled to find a vintage media store below Spun, so he went downstairs while I searched the yarn store. I found a funky green that I am going to make into a hat for Doodle at some point. I also found a purple sparkly skein that I am going to make into a hat for myself to replace the sparkly teal that I passed on at Unwind. I was super pleased with my purchases and also stoked that I came out net positive after my dividend rebate. When I rendez-voused with The Mayor in the media shop, he found a dvd that he wanted. As he checked out, the clerk told him if he gave her his phone number to become a rewards member, he could get another free dvd. So Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Joe Dirt came home with us, we pulled out of our parking spot at the exact minute our meter expired, and we tallied up another wink from the universe.
We ended our Mystery Date #2 at Metzgers German restaurant, where The Mayor finally got his schnitzel that he had been missing from Schmidt’s and I was adventurous and tried the new-to-me sauerbraten with a side of mashed potatoes and mid-Michigan sweet corn that I had been dying to try. Everything was absolutely amazing, with flavors so rich I could only eat half. The corn surpassed expectations and was as delightful as the locals brag.
Mystery Date #2 did not have the deep emotions of our first mystery date, but that is a good thing. Instead, I learned that it’s okay to let go a bit and allow myself to be spoiled. No, not spoiled, treated. The universe will take care of me. And right now the universe is manifesting as The Mayor, who takes care of my every need and anticipates my wants that I don’t even know I want. The Mayor has unlocked the mystery of Destiny, and I’m not even mad about it.
The late morning August sun shines through the windshield so bright even the visor and their sunglasses do little to help the glare. He accelerates on the on-ramp of the highway, and he speaks clearly and directly, “Siri, directions to Jeffrey’s Antique Gallery in Findlay, Ohio…”
Actual picture taken by the author.
“Okay. Here are directions to Jeff’s Flooring Warehouse in Scottsdale, Arizona.”
They look at each other and start cracking up and he says, “Jesus fucking Christ, Siri, it’s way too early to be drinking.”
“I’ll type it in,” she offers from the passenger seat as he merges across the highway into the left lane to pass one of the many truckers on the road. She pulls up the directions and they appear on the Apple Carplay screen in the dash. He reaches cruising speed and sets the cruise control at 72.
She has taken the day off work and he is taking her out of town to get a change of scenery from her home office that she has been confined to for the past two weeks. It is a blessing and a curse working from home. While she has the flexibility to take off when she needs to, being a contract worker means no vacation days—if she doesn’t work she doesn’t get paid. So she puts in long hours, often logging time on the evenings and weekends. This is her first full day off in over a fortnight.
They talk about what he plans to make for dinner and how they really need to start on painting the cabinets in the kitchen if they are going to sell in the spring. Since his job ended two years ago he has become a full-time homemaker—a domestic engineer, as she liked to put it—and if they could grant degrees he would certainly have a Ph.D. He has become so adept in the kitchen that she looks forward to what’s for dinner from the moment she wakes up in the morning. He used to turn to Food Network for inspiration, but lately he has been thinking of old recipes and how to jazz them up in his own way. Tonight he is taking a favorite recipe for a local restaurant’s shepherd’s pie and adding edamame and sundried tomatoes to the lamb and traditional veggies. She knows it will be killer—he rarely disappoints.
She catches him drumming along with his thumbs to Hall and Oates and smiles, singing along as she looks at the familiar scenery along 75. He is handsome, not in your typical Chris Hemsworth way, then again who is, but in an inviting and comforting way. More than his outward appearance, he has a gentle, caring nature that makes her heart gallop. He always knows how to take care of her, when to refill her water cup, when she needs physical touch, when she needs to be left alone, and when she needs to just let go and laugh. He is her rock and she could not be more grateful.
“So, what are your thoughts on just staying partners versus getting married?” she suddenly says, surprising herself with her abruptness as they pass Troy. “Are we gonna be like Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn and just never tie the knot? Or do you feel a strong desire to make it official?” She had always assumed they were on the same page, but they never discussed it in their hopes and dreams for their future together. She herself waffled back and forth between the romanticism of getting married, but she was also practical and knew there were financial consequences to taking the plunge. She loved looking at wedding dresses and engagement rings, but the idea of getting married again terrified her.
He takes a beat and replies, “I mean, I feel like we already are life partners like Kurt and Goldie. A marriage certificate won’t change how I feel about you. If it makes sense for us to get married, then I’m game, but otherwise I say why mess with a good thing? If we decide we want to in the future, it’ll be on a whim by Elvis in Vegas or something like that,” and he laughs, casting a sideways glance at her to gauge her reaction.
She is relieved by his response and tells him that. They have eleven years under their belt, she can’t imagine herself with anyone else and a ring didn’t mean as much as his steadfast strength and compassionate shoulder as he stood by her during one of her darkest hours last winter. He would always take care of her, and in turn, she would always provide for him. She had come to realize how deep her love for him really was, and she felt his devotion and affection on a daily basis.
Siri’s voice suddenly pipes up and notifies them of their exit in 10 miles. The trip has flown by, their easy conversations punctuating the comfortable silence as the western Ohio scenery passes by. They have some backroads after they exit and she looks out at the houses and churches in the little town by the antique mall. In a clearing, she sees a small graveyard and two solitary headstones right next to each other. The engravings are faded, but one of them has words that form the shape of a smile and it is tilted to the right, barely touching the headstone next to it. It is as if it is pressing its forehead to the marker next to it and even in the afterlife the two can’t be separated. She immediately gets the warm fuzzies and points it out to him.
“Look, it’s you and me! You must’ve said something in the afterlife that made me smile and want to always be near you…” Can you pull over? I want to take a picture. Such detours were not uncommon. They did a u-turn for a cheese castle during a recent trip to Wisconsin, he could take a break for a snapshot of something she found inspiring.
She gets the picture she wanted, is pleased with herself, and is already mulling the story she will write about it one day when she has more free time. They pull up to the antique mall, take a sip from their water bottles, and head in. He opens the door for her, following behind her, then takes her hand as they walk the aisles. She leans her head on his shoulder for a brief moment. Thinking back to the gravestones, she is thankful that she has a lifetime of tender moments and fun adventures to look forward to with him. But for right now, she is happy he is by her side exploring this tiny part of the universe, keeping her grounded and her heart full.
For the past few weeks I have been pondering what my first post of 2026 would be about. I have been in the throes of perimenopausal rage, the brunt of which my family has taken. At the suggestion of friends, I have sought out HRT to help with the rage, and at the suggestion of my sister, who has been my sounding board for the past 44 years, I have sought out a therapist. In a reflection on the state of our healthcare system, this is the first time in the 17 years since my divorce that I am able to afford therapy. Yep, that’s right, 17 years of suppressed trauma, stuffed down to keep the peace and the facade of a healthy coparenting relationship, paired with wild hormone surges, and I am a train wreck.
How has it been 17 years, you may ask? Well, since my ex dropped me from his health insurance the millisecond the divorce was final, I was without health coverage. My stress and trauma induced mental breakdown followed very quickly and suddenly I had a preexisting condition and didn’t qualify for care. This was five years before the ACA, so in order to stabilize my brain chemistry I went $50k in debt just to survive. I am just now nearly finished climbing out of that hole. I was briefly paired with a welfare/medicaid therapist by my social worker in the first few months after my breakdown, but we didn’t touch on the trauma and gaslighting that X and his new wife inflicted on me during the divorce and after my breakdown. Instead we focused on my mental health and how I dealt with my new diagnosis. So I stuffed it down even further and put a smile on my face in what I thought was the best thing for my kids. Turns out it wasn’t.
Once I was able to get covered due to the ACA rule on nondiscrimination based on preexisting conditions (bitch all you want, Obama saved my life), I could never afford the mental health component. I already pay out of pocket for my psychiatrist and medications, I had bare minimum coverage in case of emergencies, therapy just wasn’t in the cards. Finally this year, I am with a plan that covers mental health. So I’m finally ready to unpack.
I have made my health a priority over the past couple of years (I’m down 60 pounds!), but have never prioritized my mental health, thinking I was just fine as long as my bipolar was under control. It turns out I was inflicting harm on those around me by not processing my anger and betrayal by X and his new wife. In 2010 in a long blog post I laid bare all of my own mistakes and transgressions, thus taking down myself along with an entire community. I took the blame for the divorce and buried my anger deep down, praying that I could raise my kids with the illusion of a happy, healthy, coparenting family who “just couldn’t make things work out.” Well, it turns out the healthiest thing I could’ve done was find a way to process that pain. Though it wasn’t possible at the time, I am looking forward to processing everything in private with my therapist, and hopefully eventually healing the relationships that I have harmed through my own neglect of my psyche.
So while I continue on my path toward physical wellness, I have added mental wellness, something that wasn’t on my bingo card for 2026 but is now center star. I hope to work through my anger and get some hormone relief as well as some closure on my past. That way I can move forward into the next chapter with The Mayor with a fresh head and healthy boundaries and a sense of trust that has been missing from my relationships for the past 17 years. The Mayor has a way of making me feel like I’m actually worth the effort, something I have never felt in any relationship before. So here’s to wellness and healthy living. May 2026 be a year of change and personal growth.
I love you all, some more than others. 💜🌻
PS These hot flashes are no joke. I had to stop by the freezer section three times just to cool down while shopping at Meijer with The Mayor this morning!
It’s winter time, which means I have plenty of dark days to ponder such somber thoughts as what kind of legacy I will leave behind when my time comes to become stardust in the universe. As I collect past writings and journal entries into a collective published piece, I am reminded of the Latin phrase Verba volant, scripta manent, which translates to “spoken words fly away, written words remain.” I live and die by the pen, so this resonates particularly strongly with me.
Between Facebook and my blog, I am pretty much an open book. This has enabled me to nurture and develop relationships with people from all walks of my life all over the world, and with some whom I have never met. Just this week, I have been messaged by three different people of varying degrees of familiarity who said they thought of me because of something I had written.
My friend, Nick, from my study abroad year in England, messaged that something came across his feed about people who can make jokes about grammar are the cleverest of the lot and he thought of me. My bff’s mom, Linda, texted that she thought of me because she got an entire bag of “foldy” chips with her dinner and she knew that bag should’ve been mine. And then my own daughter, J, has texted me at the exact same time numerous times, indicating that we are never far from each other’s minds.
Just the idea that I crossed these friends’ minds and made them smile for a moment fills my love bucket to the brim. I am not one for long conversations, always a better listener than I am contributor, but I can collect my thoughts into an essay with relative ease. I think this has allowed me to be precisely in the moment soaking it all in, and then write about it later. While I hope to make an impact on people in real life connections, the reality of our virtual world is we have so many of those interactions online. We are who we are because of our words, and our written words are even more pertinent and meaningful today.
It brings me joy and a sense of fulfillment that I can elicit a smile through my actions, but especially my words. My writings are an expression of my love for this journey we are on together, and that Love will remain in others whom I have touched after I am ashes. Hopefully I have plenty of years left to continue to make an impression in others who enter my sphere. At the very least, I will have left a library for my children and future grandchildren so that they will always know I love them. After all, scripta manent, amor manet.
I was challenged by my sister over on our blog crossingthestreams.net to take a moment to list the top 5 things for which I am most ungrateful. Snarky? Perhaps. But I chose to see the humor in the situation and went for it full force. However, after unleashing such negativity into the Universe, I feel compelled to provide some checks and balances and take a positive spin on justdestiny.com.
It seems the holidays bring out our most altruistic selves. From those feeding the homeless to the PETA folks looking out for the turkeys and pigs destined to become dinner, everyone has a cause to champion. In no way am I trying to undermine the work of my activist counterparts. However, this holiday, I am going to be completely selfish and champion my own cause…for today I am going to meet The Mayor’s family for Thanksgiving dinner. Continue reading →
What happens when you find your true love at 36 and he just happens to be a movie critic? All that you thought you knew about movies goes by the wayside and a new world opens up to you. I thought I was pretty well versed in the film universe, but as The Mayor pointed out to me, I had some major gaps. He got the brilliant idea for each of us to come up with five films that the other had not seen and we would learn more about each other through our choices. I was ready at the get go for this challenge…the only stipulation was he couldn’t make me sit through a horror film. Thankfully none of those ranked on his list of five, so off we went. (For his review of my five movies, and you know you want to know what I picked, click here…) Continue reading →
