Intelligence is a blessing, sometimes the reverse.

Having been tested a lot (academically), having been told ( by those who know me as well as a few who don't) I deduced that I'm above average in smarts. Intelligence, even a bit of a smart azz.

Technology? I love it! It challenges me, then, I have it all figgered out. (yawn)

People? A bigger mystery.
Guys? An even bigger mystery.

Children? Pure bliss. I love them, they love me.
Animals? All animals love me!

One thing, having learned for sure, most males feel uncomfortable with an intelligent woman or girl. Many like to play BS games. A smart girl will call him out & refuse to tolerate such nonsense. If she cares about him, she may tolerate it for a few weeks or even a few years if she has a child by him.
Ultimately, the BS dance gets to be intolerable. Being a smart one she does what is best for her as well as her child. She leaves.

Sometimes, whether he has a child with her or not, he will seek out then align himself with another girl who will accept his BS.
Sux to be her. 

As an intelligent one, I find that most guys are reticent, frightened of me at worst. 
It's all good.
Speaking my mind, speaking my truth, is how I roll. 
The wrong ones will vamoose, the right ones will feel secure in the presence of someone who is confident as well as kind, approachable.
In those instances where this intelligence lapsed, my heart was allowed by me, to lead, leaving my brain behind. The price that was paid for this lapse was pleasure at first then dissolving into deep, soul searing pain. Pain that made me feel that even taking my own life was better than living with the emotional pain. Pain which hung on for a year or more. 
This pain taught me that it's better to remain solitary than it is to risk such self allowing pain ever again.
It's better to love myself & sanity enough to never do that to myself, ever again. 
Male friends = Yes. 
Romantic Involvement with a male = NO

Being in possession of intelligence also means heightened awareness, it does, for me. 
When out in public, in private or even in phone convo, it's simple to pick up the subtleties behind which many try to hide. They try.

Although I call these people out less than I recognize, when called out it produces a wave of defensiveness, a wave of denial.

Often, I smile, keep it to myself.

Heightened intelligence also means heightened creativity in all aspects of life.

Sex, art, cooking, decorating innovation. O yeah. It surfaces!

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Empowered

Red is a color of energy, passion, empowerment. Hence, the color of the text in this blog entry. Feel the love!!!!  😊

The secret is no secret, any longer.

I went to Utah to attend a college graduation, very recently.

The rest?

Such sweet surprises!

Dealing with the unexpected can somewhat rattle me. It can also make me grow, deliver exciting experiences.
Yup
That sums this trip up fo' shoah!

It thrills me to spend time with my wondrous daughter and her equally wondrous hubbs.

 A thrill I had, on the way, was the driving as well as while at the destination of an oh so dear lifelong friend.
We talked, reminisced, solved the worlds problems, made a plan for peace in the middle east.
Naw!
JK!
We DID talk, we did zip-line the Provo Valley, we did move mountains, or, at least move through them!
She drove through the mountain passage into the salt lake valley (which is uncomfortable pour moi)

While I was there, there were revealing events, many revealing moments. Catching up to what has happened in my dear friend's life. Making new acquaintances.

It was a road-trip drive ( yes, we drove a car!)

While this feeling of empowerment is here, I want to share something to empower you, who are reading this. I didn't write this, I don't know who did. It was sent to me in a FB message.
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I recently overheard a young man discussing with a young woman, a female, high school mate that “USED to be beautiful.” Noticing that I overheard the conversation, I guess because they felt their comments needed to rationalized or justified since they realized I was in ear shot of the comments. They commenced to tell me that she had became a “stripper” and the condemnation that came with their comments broke my heart for their lack of understanding but mostly for a woman’s heart, whom I have never met but have come to understand very well through my past life and my new. Every boy has a question, Am I strong enough? Do I have what it takes? Every little girl is asking, Do you notice me? Am I beautiful? If these questions are mishandled, what we as young men and women will do to have them answered is demoralizing and even deadly.
There is only one lover who can answer our question. He is waiting for us to pull off the masks of macho bravado, tough controlling hard edges and bring our question to Him. So, men, next time you are sitting in a strip club stealing that girl's beauty for $20 a dance or alone in the dark watching her give herself to strangers for your pleasure on a video. Remember this, deep inside that woman is a little ballerina. Perhaps your daughters age, she is twirling on a table in the living room or out in the yard in her twirling skirt, asking, Do you notice me? Am I beautiful? There is a right way and a wrong way to handle such questions. Think about the question in your life and how it was answered. What has become so unattractive and socially unacceptable to those who were fortunate to not have their question mishandled, is still that beautiful little girl asking, Do you notice me? Am I beautiful? Until we have faced our own wounds we shouldn’t have an opinion on such issues but we do. So, I guess “pride comes before the fall” and when we do, by God’s grace and mercy, we can all, always return to our “first lover.” 

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Something to ponder.

And...And....And

And sometimes I'm so happy that tears stream down my cheeks
And often I'm in this same beautiful state for several weeks
And when my mind is embraced in serotonin uptake sea
I know it will only last a little while it's no lifelong panacea 

And it must end sometime though I hope it's not sooner but later
And I must deal with the occasional troll the fun sucker the hater
And this is when I find something else to bring me back to peace
Love the journey of finding a way to give me some sadness release

And when the sad time ends it's like I'm reliving my original birth
And it makes me so grateful to be living on this beautiful earth
And spending time with people I love who I hold most dear
You never know from one day to the next how long they have here

☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙♥☙ 

Do you see what I just did? If you see it, tell me in the comments below this blog entry.

Sensitive to the man, his voice, his words

It's less than a secret.

As a linguist, being super sensitive to a voice is part of it.

Listening to a guy is only part of it. Often, becoming side-tracked by his voice happens, well, a lot.

There, I have admitted it, in raw truthful language.

It's the female ears of moi who appreciates the male voice of toi. 

Love the sound of my sons voice, sincere, mature, filled with authenticity.

When speaking with a guy, I  feel wrapped in the personal lull of the sound of his voice. If I like it or love it, I'm there. 
If not, well...there.

What's in your voice?

Seeking Beauty, Finding Truth, The Ultimate beauty

Using light blue for the color of my text has become a habit, possibly, it will be a trademark, someday.
idk
It feels right, it feels good. The phrase, "true blue" is called to mind.
As a lover of truth, on a journey to be truthful, always, in truth, I have faltered. Then, rising up again, into truth, I arose into blue.
It's painful to admit, yet, I have just now, admitted.

A few times, I faltered. Out of pain, out of self protection, even from sheer ignorance of what I was doing, I did things out of character, untrue to myself.  Pain does that. It did, for me. 

Seeking truth, seeking beauty, it seemed to be beauty. Until, that is, it turned into pain. Soul searing, life altering pain. The sort of pain that no one would want for others much less themselves.

Still believing, I let my being be drawn, naively, innocently, drawn.

Wishing to believe.

Like Peter Pan.

First star to the right, straight on 'til morning. I journeyed.

Finally, realizing, the truth I sought, was inside me. The truth I sought was within me. It was my own beautiful soul.

Yup. Ha Ha!
I use visuals.
Loving men as I do, I know visuals are important.  ♥

To quote a very beloved philosopher:

When we feel truth, we know it as beauty.

When you are a guy, seeking a beautiful girl, you will view her as truthful. It's in your hard wired DNA. I love you, I applaud you!

I will meet you there, my beloved. Perfect in your imperfection.

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