Young ones

I met the cutest young one tonight.

Generally I'm not too interested in young ones. But this one is an articulate genius reader/writer. Seriously.... wow.... what a soft spot for me. The artists. The cute young artists.... hmmmm.

I met him at a local pub. Just out walking the dog and stopped in for a pint. We yacked about social networking; computers - are they good or bad; gaming; the beat writers; Henry Miller and Anais Nin; crazy behviours of pre-teen girls; his parents marraige; my professional environment. All in less than an hour!

He manages a great local bookstore/music store - mostly used stuff - but not exclusively. The store has a great reputation and has been a staple in the neighborhood for a long time.

[long time = more than 10 years. I think there was a time and a place where neighborhood 'institutions' were much older than 10 years. What does that say?]

I think I may drop in the bookstore a bit more often. I don't want an affair with this young one.... but there is always room in my life for an articulate genius reader/writer.

Parting.... is not that sweet.... but there is sorrow

My number one guy and I had a fight this weekend. We rarely have fights. It's one of the reasons he is my number one guy. But he is moving away. Far away. It was a job he couldn't turn down over a job that is burning him out. I understand the decision.

I want to spend as much time together as possible before he moves. He, in a way, has already left and does not feel compelled to spend more time together... but perhaps even less. Thus.... the fight.

I interpret this as "Well, if I was important to you then you would find it hard to leave me and want to spend as much time as possible with me while you still could. Ergo... I must not be very important to you". He just says he looks at it differently and thinks maybe it is better that we don't see too much of one another, since he is moving away and it is unlikely we will be able to continue having a relationship.

While I agree that large distance is a major hurdle to a relationship.... I am not ready to give up the possibility just yet. Apparently he is. I conclude (perhaps incorrectly) that he is using the move as an excuse to separate from me without taking personal responsibility for the relationship ending. He doesn't have to end the relationship... it will end itself because of distance.

Every guy I get involved with always seems so different from the others at first. This one is wonderful for so many reasons....but ultimately there is something common with all of them... they are unavailable. Their love is unavailable.

Which brings me to a most perplexing question.... do I chose unavailable men because when push comes to shove I am unavailable?

We have resolved the fight, but nothing changes. We will see each other a few more times before he leaves. I will cry a lot. He will move. Then it will be next year and we'll just have to see what happens then.

Where are those millionaires again? LOL

Bring on the Millionaires

A new dating service is being launched in Toronto today. The Millionaires Club. I'm not joking.

Apparently it has been operating successfully in the U.S. for awhile. The idea (so they say) is to assist busy eligible rich men to find 'quality' (read: exceptionally beautifula and intelligent) women versus the flighty golddiggers they generally run in to.

While the website seems to indicate that 'quality' also means 'young'... I think I may see if there are any millionaires out there interested in a moderatly beautiful, quite intelligent, 'mature' woman (that would be me!)

I know many people will poo poo this latest adventure.... but heh .... what do I have to lose? At the best I will meet the perfect man who also has money! I know chances are slim cause it's probably an oxymoron: my perfect man and a rich man, but at the worst I will spend some time filling out a form and never hear from them again. Somewhere in the middle I 'may' get to have a few really great dinners, meet a completely different kind of person than I usually meet, and have fodder for the blog!

Stay tuned for adventures in millionaire land!

a girl's catch 22

Even at my mature age, I find there are times when I become insecure about a man's interest in me: are they 'just' interested in sex? or do they appreciate alll my other wonderful qualities? Men don't seem to worry too much about such silly insecurities. It's a girl thing.... a catch 22 .... we are supposed to be good at sex to attract and keep men.... but we are also supposed to be modest about it and 'pretend' not to be.... and if we are desired only for sex... then we are being used and disrespected.....

Why does society like to fuck up something as good as fucking?

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I celebrated my 47th birthday last Friday with a wonderful dinner with 15 of my closest friends, followed by a foray to a local nightclub. The next day I saw some girlfriends and someone asked me if I had gotten 'laid' on my birthday. I said "Yes. Of course. It was my birthday!" :-)

One of my friends looked surprised ,as she had been at the dinner, and asked: "Who? Who?" I smiled and said - "don't you think it's enough that you know I got laid.... I think I'll keep the 'who' to myself." Of course, it's also possible I was making the whole thing up, isn't it. ;-)

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When men attempt bold gestures, generally it's considered romantic. When women do it, it's often considered desperate or psychotic. (Carrie from 'Sex and the City')

The Breathalizer Phone

Communications Technology and Dating

I grew up about a hundred years ago and more than 2000 miles away from this cosmopolitan city I now live in. I received my first date invitation when I was 13 years old, via a telephone call. Normal enough. EXCEPT ... I lived in a rural area and we still had party lines. For those of you born way after me and in a more populated area: a party line is a telephone line that is shared by multiple households. Inevitably there are always some people who find it entertaining to 'rubber-neck' (where, I wonder, did that term come from?) on other people's conversations.

The morning after I accepted the invitation to my very first date, I boarded my school bus only to face teasing and cat calls regarding my up-coming date. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the details of my fledgling romance. Needless to say I was relatively mortified.

My father bought me my first telephone answering machine when I was in my mid twenties. It revolutionized my dating habits. Not at first... but like most people I eventually learned that if I was fearful of talking to someone I could let the machine take their call. Even more importantly, if I wanted to communicate with someone but was fearful of actually speaking to them, I could approximate a good time to call when I would be likely to get the machine and leave my message then. Suddenly, a lot of 'date' related phone calls were getting made in the middle of the day!

While this sounds awfully wimpy - I must note I certainly was not the only one making use of this technique!

For the next decade or more I was in relationship(s) and not paying a lot of attention to changes in dating rituals. Bring on the Internet generation and I'm again participating in the dating game. While the telephone is obviously still being used, it is perhaps less prevalent than other communications technologies. Now, I often meet people online, communicate with them through email and instant messaging and use text messaging on my cell phone as an alternative communications method.

Oh.... the choices! Now, if I (or one of my paramours) wants to communicate we have a variety of methods to choose from. Depending on the message, the distance, the time of day (or night), the status of the relationship.... etc. etc.... which communications method is appropriate and/or comfortable?

I have sent flirtatious or funny text messages to a friend's phone when I knew they were likely to be in the middle of a stressful work day. I have manipulated my online status to control who I will talk to online - I can appear to not be online and only show that I am online when the person(s) I am hoping will contact me come online. I can set my status to 'busy' with the hope that the object of my affection will get curious as to what I am doing / who I am talking to and make contact. I can chose to send an email to say thanks for a good time; or a text message; or a phone call. I can have phone sex with my boyfriends or we can have 'virtual sex' - which is basically the same as phone sex - only in written form using instant messaging. I can engage in writing erotic or flirtatious ficticious stories with my boyfriends by sending emails back and forth with each of us adding a scene to the story.

I have friends and colleagues who decry the reduction of face to face communications that people engage in - they are suspicious and critical and fear that by avoiding communicating in person we are reducing our ability to engage in community with others. I see their point.

Personally, I like written communications. I always have. I was a letter writer as a child and young adult and I took to the email generation even before the world wide web was a reality. For a variety of reasons there are things that are easier to say in written form than in verbal form. I have sometimes grown closer to people through correspondence. I embrace the variety of communications .... but have never really been a telephone person.... I blame it on that first date experience.

My friend, R, invented the Breathalizer Phone. (Of course it only exists in our imaginations so far). A telephone that will not operate if you are drunk, because of course, we have all come to consiousness on a Sunday morning with the vague memory of phoning a boyfriend or ex boyfriend and making complete asses of ourselves. Remember the Friend's episode where Rachel calls Ross for 'closure'? No? well.... you likely get the picture anyway.

"Don't Drink and Dial" is as much a part of our parlance as "Don't Drink and Drive". And now we have to add: Don't Drink and Text! Sheesh...

For more on dating communications etiquette see:
http://sexonmydesk.ivillage.com/love/2006/08/the_new_rules_of_technology_in.html

Truth? or Kindness? You? or Him?

It has come to my attention that one of the things readers like to focus on when they read my blog is: WHO is she talking about?

I may be referring to someone particular. I may be making the character up from various aspects of real people I have known. I may be referring to someone I once knew.

But what is more important, for me anyway, is that I hope that I am talking about thoughts and issues that are not common to just 'my' life.

So.... when I write about a man I don't want to see again and whether the best course of action is to tell him why.... or let him down easy.... the question is not WHO am I talking about.... the question is: is it best to tell the truth or be 'kind'? Which is actually kinder?

If it were YOU I was talking about, what would YOU want? It 'could' be you, you know. Or maybe not. Probably not.

Motivation

I've been wanting to get a posting finished for days now. I feel bad for neglecting my blog. I am working on a few pieces - but none are ready for posting. I've been low on motivation.

Tonight I attended a dinner party with very old friends - family really. Topics raised in my blog were referenced during the party. One friend complimented the blog - saying they thought there was 'good stuff' there (or something like that).

My dog.... you actually do read this stuff! It was good to know. I feel more motivated now. Thanks.

More to come.

(ps. use the comments feature now and again, ok?)

To take advantage of

advantage

· superiority or ascendancy (often fol. by over or of): His height gave him an advantage over his opponent

take advantage of

· Put to good use; avail oneself of; also, profit selfishly by, exploit. For example, They really take advantage of her good nature, getting her to do all the disagreeable chores. [Late 1300s]

· to impose upon, esp. unfairly, as by exploiting a weakness: to take advantage of someone.

· To profit selfishly by; exploit: took advantage of the customer

The Dream

As I left the cafeteria I offered him a ride: “I’m going west, I can drop you off at a subway if you like.” He accepted the ride. (It should perhaps be noted that ‘he’ was a popular television character known for womanizing.)

He asked if we could stop briefly so he could pick up something to eat, to which I complied even though I was afraid I would be late for my mother’s birthday dinner.

He went in to the restaurant to place his order and began to flirt with the women in the restaurant. The next thing I know, I am left with his food and his bill, while he disappears into the mountains with 2 (or more) women. While I wait, people begin thinking that my car is a bus and they get on it and wonder why I’m not leaving.

“This is not a bus!” I say. They do not want to believe me and seem to think that if they simply stay in their seats I will take them where they want to go.

“This is not a bus!” I scream. With great hautiness they disembark. I hear murmurs of “you don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

Finally he comes out of the mountains and gets in the car. There are now 6 of us in the car, and it appears that he is driving. I don’t know where we are, or where we are going. I am worried again about being late for my mother’s birthday dinner. One of the women in the car is giving directions to him.

“I’m not driving” he says to her. “She is.” Indicating me.

At which point I realize that indeed I AM driving and somehow it has been assumed that I am taking each one of them to their own homes.
“Wait!” I say…. “I can’t take you all home. That wasn’t the deal. I said I could drop you at a subway. I’m going to be late for my mother’s dinner.”

They are all greatly disappointed and begin to argue with me. I am getting quite angry and am aware that because of that I am not paying appropriate attention to my driving.

“NO!” I am yelling at them – “I can’t do this. I didn’t say I would.”

Suddenly there is a group of children in the road. I swerve to miss them but unfortunately I hear the sickening crunch of the car striking one of the children.

I immediately break. My passengers yell, “Don’t stop. We need to get home. Don’t stop.”

I stop the car and get out and run to see. After I have struck the little girl, another car has hit her and she is now stuck under that car. She is dressed in a pink snowsuit and she is screaming and in great pain. Someone is holding her and yelling “Call 911” and someone else is trying to lift the car off of her.

I chastise myself for not already calling 911, and for leaving my phone in the car. The little girl screams again. There is blood. I hear my voice in agony say “Oh my god!” which awakens me.

I am shaken by this dream and lay awake wondering at it’s meaning.

The overwhelming message that comes to me is:

“It always ends badly when you let others take advantage of you.”

Perfume

Advertising is a constant source of entertainment and bewilderment. I'm one of those people who reads without thinking. I read every billboard; every elevator posting; ever traffic sign I pass. (well ... maybe not EVERY - but you get my meaning). I read the weirdest headlines sometimes. For example, take this one:

What does your perfume say about you?

Perfume only says one thing about you: you want to attract others to you and/or leave others with a positive impression of yourself.

Of course I suppose if you chose a bad one it could also say you have bad taste - but that (like anything else the aroma may say to others is in thier eye (or nose in this case) and says nothing about the wearer and more about the smeller.


We wear perfume, should we wear it, to attract others to us or to help leave others with a positive impression of ourselves.

Rock Star Status for Storytelling

My friend V has gone to Guatemalan for a few months to volunteer to help establish a community library (or something like that). Her first week has been challenging (to say the least). You can read about her adventures at: http://valinguatemala.livejournal.com/

I met V in 'library school' about 10 years ago. She is more than 10 years younger than me, and one of the brightest, funniest, most wonderful people I know. She tells, and writes, wonderful stories with great skill and comes up with wonderful images.

As part of her volunteer activities right now, she has been assisting a wonderful young teacher (M) in providing ESL classes and storytime sessions with the local kids. Here is how she describes her experience in the Guatemalan village of 'El Remate': [note: I will correct V's spelling - cause, let's just say spelling is not one of her many many talents :) ]

V says that it is worth whatever crap she may be experiencing, " just to be able to roady to M´s new 'El Remate' Rock Star status for her storytime skills."

Who needs television anymore?

I used to watch a lot of television. Too much television. It's a habit I think I got in to in a bad way when my daughter was young and I was poor. Cheap entertainment for a sleep deprived brain!

Now I'm addicted to my laptop and the world of blogs and wikipedia! Seriously - I spend more 'entertainment' time in front of this machine than any other machine in my house. I'm not gonna even examine whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. I will say that I think it's heaps more intellectually stimulating than television - at least I read AND watch AND even write sometimes!

Check out these winners from tonight's foray:

http://www.thebudgetgraph.com/view.html

http://boingboing.net/

And http://susiebright.blogs.com/susie_brights_journal_/

Of which I particularly liked: http://susiebright.blogs.com/susie_brights_journal_/2006/09/rape_scenes.html

But less 'controversial' may be:
http://susiebright.blogs.com/susie_brights_journal_/2006/09/susie_interview.html

But hey - we all gotta enjoy this:
No?

Rejection dilemma

There's a man kind of in my life (translate: I sleep with him sometimes) that I hope never calls again. Most of us have been there/here, right?

I hope he never calls again cause I truly don't know what I should say to him.

Should I tell the truth:

You are severly lacking some of the basic social skills. You smell bad. Your place is disgusting. Your imagination does not capture mine. You can't even come close to being emotionally open and you don't really do it for me sexually.

Seems overly mean doesn't it? Not to mention who knows what his reaction would be? Men can be unpredictable and easily wounded by the truth.

I can't help but wonder though, if someone had told him this 20 years ago - maybe he would be a happier person today. Or at least maybe he would be getting laid more often.

Or should I tell him:

"No, I really don't think we should get together again. It can't go anywhere. I'm just not that into you/it anymore. Thanks, but no thanks."

Both rejections are true. Which is really the kinder rejection?

Feedback wanted people!!!!

NOT about love, relationships or sex

Things are just beginning to warm up for the November municipal election here in TO. I ran into one of the candidates for my ward on Saturday - he is an old friend/acquaintance. He was on his way to the market where he says that police were towing cars, but ignoring the crack dealers.

Jane Pitfield is the only opposition mayoral candidate getting any real press so far. Today she announced that she would like to pass a law prohibiting panhandling on Toronto streets. "YEH" I said, to no one in particular since I was alone in the car at the time. The more really stupid things like that she proposes the better the chances are she won't get elected!

I'm going looking for some election related blogs and sites so I can start getting myself informed. Adam asked me to work on his campaign. Might be a better use of my energy than moaning about not finding the perfect love, huh?

So far I have found: http://www.spacing.ca/votes/ Pitfield has some wonderfully stupid things to say about providing home ownership to people currently living in public housing. You go girl!

Is hope a halucination?

A friend posted the following quote in a comment to one of my blog entries. Apparently it comes from Diane Schoemperlen's book of short stories "Forms of Devotion":

"Still I was not willing to concede that love is blind. Rather...I insisted that love makes you see things that aren't there. Things like honesty, integrity, wisdom, courage, the future, etcetera. Love is not blindness. Love is a halucination, the ultimate distortion of reality by which all those parallel lines you've believed in for so long become curves and all perpective is lost."

I agree and disagree with this sad, yet wonderful, description. Perhaps love is both blind and a halucination. In love, we do not see things that are there, and we do see things that aren't there. If the halucination has been powerful enough then when we awake from our distorted reality our heart is broken. However it is also possible that when the halucination lifts and our distorted reality morphs into a less distorted reality (reality is an arguable concept after all) that another love then has a chance to live. At least that is the current illusion that I am betting on: hope for a love with happiness and a shared reality.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tunes without the words
And never stops--at all.
(Emily Dickinson)

When there is a disconnect

S has been out of town about 90 percent of the last 6 weeks. I've found myself surfing the online dating sites again. It's weird. I am very conflicted about it. We haven't made any promises or commitments to one another. I'm fully confident that he would not change in his attitude or behaviour to me, should he know that I am flirting a little with other men. I quite enjoy the conversations, the flirting, the attention.

However, what I really want is to be doing all my flirting with him. I don't care that he is out of town - I care that when he is, he is almost completely unavailable to me. I think we have discussed this and I think we understand one another's position.

I tend to follow my instincts in these things. Which of course we all know has gotten me into trouble on at least one occasion. I think/hope I have learned when it is best to pull the plug on a relationship/friendship. No matter how strong the attraction, no matter how intense the desire, no matter how charming or enticing the object.... if it doesn't respect me and my thoughts - it is not to be kept.

S does not disrespect me. Nor does he disrespect himself. He challenges me to behave in my own best interest. He accepts that I feel the way I do and does not belittle me for it.
Although he does not feel capable of meeting my feelings with similiar feelings of his own, he offers me the feelings he does have for me.

If I am not deluding myself, then in some ways it may be the best relationship I've had so far in my life. At least in one sense of communication we are highly successful - we seem to have agreed to accept and respect that we are not always on the same page. What, I think, we try and focus on, is the things we do agree on.

Young Love

Last weekend I accompanied an old friend to a family wedding. It was everything you would imagine in a wedding. We arrived just in time on Friday evening to join about half of the wedding guests for a sunset cocktail cruise on a beautiful lake in upper New York State. We sipped on champagne and chatted with the friendly guests from all over Canada and the U.S. The young bride seemed relaxed and happy and excited. The cruise was followed by a deliciously slow and delectable 5 course dinner at a comfortable local dining room.

The following morning dawned sunny and warm and was a relaxing day of tourist activity in a charming town. While the afternoon provided scattered thunder storms, by the evening it was clear, if a tad chilly. We were shuttled from our accomodations to the young couple's home where they had constructed a large white tent to house the festivities. Torches lit the yard and large planters of seasonal flowers were scattered about the lawn. The bride and groom greeted guests and people milled about sipping on drinks and enjoying delicious appetizers. I won't bore you with details describing the beauty of the bride in her gorgeous dress, which pleasantly was not white but a unique ivory/beige and very complimentary.

When all the guests had arrived, we were asked to assemble on either side of an aisle lined with glowing torches. The ceremony was precided over by the groom's mother and was original and filled with personal stories of the couple and how their love for one another had grown and developed over the past couple of years. Much of it had been written by the couple and was very touching. The love, respect, support, and affection they held for one another was palpable. The shared hopes and dreams that they have for their joint future were apparent.

The ceremony was, of course, followed by a feast with plenty of laughter and dancing. A real celebration of love, life, passion, hope and optimism.

My greatest wish for these two is that life holds all the joy that this day of beginning was filled with. My worst fear for them, is that the curve balls that life can throw your way will wear them down and make everything they said that day seem pat, silly, youthful and ridiculously overly optimistic.

I wondered if I would ever be able to honestly feel that optimistic about a love again. I remembered the times that I have held those optimistic and pure feelings of love, respect, support and affection for my love. But I also remembered how my joy had been eroded and replaced by fear, sadness, defeat and lonliness.

I remembered that in each case I always had doubts - had the doubts killed my loves or were my doubts normal and acceptable? Have I made poor choices or am I immature in my expectations of love and a life partner/partnership?

And most poignant: will I ever be capable of feeling that optimistic about a love again?

I am envious of that young love... a love that does not yet know the pain of a love that dies.

On being GGG

GGG is a term coined by Dan Savage, a popular advice columnist, and means "good, giving and game". It generally refers to the ideal for healthy human sexuality: that a partner should be "good, giving and game" when presented with their partner's fantasy. Like Savage, I too believe that in a good relationship partners should strive to be GGG. Frankly - if you've matched yourself with someone for whom you can't be GGG - perhaps you might want to re-think your choice of partner.

While Dan uses GGG solely in regards to sexual requests, I'm sure that is mostly because he writes primarily about sexual relationships and would agree with my assertion that we should strive to be GGG in response to all of our partner's requests. What, I wonder, is the point of being in a relationship if you don't have a reasonable expectation that any request you could make would be treated with respect and a GGG attitude. The key here is, of course, is that you both agree to what is within the realm of a 'reasonable' request.

One evening, while in the company of girlfriends, the conversation turned to body hair removal. The overwhelming consensus was: "I AM NOT removing my pubic hair and any guy who asks me too can take a hike!" "It's unnatural and I don't want to be with any man who wants me to be unnatural". I was a tad surprised. I am reasonably sure that every woman in the room shaved their legs, probably shaved their arm pits; cut their hair, used deodorant and toothpaste and probably some makeup. Apparently these are all 'natural' practises, but removing their pubic hair isn't. Go figure.

The overwhelming trend in 'beauty' these days is hairlessness. A shaved pussy is all the rage apparently. I think these women were reacting to this trend. Since they have been shaving their legs and using toothpaste most of their lives, these practises have been accepted as normal and natural. Shaving our pubic hair has become more common during our adult lives and is therefore a little harder for some women to accept as OK, let alone normal and natural. OK - I get that part - the part that stuck in my craw was the strong reaction they expressed to shaving because a 'man' might ask them to.

I've noticed this reaction before from people. Sometimes it seems like people will go out of their way NOT to do something that their partners request. The attitude seems to be: "if he/she asks me to do 'x' then they aren't accepting me the way I am." What does that kind of attitude do to communication in a relationship? It's the standard power play. The one who withholds requests will have power. But for how much longer will they have a happy relationship?

I've had all kinds of requests from lovers and almost all have been pretty easy to do, really. How hard is it to shave anyway? or take off all my jewellery? or wear something particular? or not leave my clothes on the floor? or do the dishes when I've eaten? or or or.... Of course, I fully expect reciprocal GGG - as we all should.

My reaction if a man wants me to shave my pussy? "Sure hon, if you'll shave your balls." Can make for a fun evening of GGG!

Amory - M or P?

I met a young woman the other night who is looking for a new place to live. She wants her own place she says. She's tired of living with other people. She is currently living in a large open studio with 5 other people, all polyamorous. She implied they were polyamorous with one another.

Well, I thought, THAT beats every lifestyle choice I've ever tried!

I have had two periods of committed non-monogamy/polyamory and once I had two lovers who were friends with one another and were aware that they were both sleeping with me (although never in the same month interestingly). The men I involved myself with during these periods were, by and large, also not interested in relationships and also engaging in multiple partners. Some of them preferred not to know that I was seeing other people; some of them drove me crazy with requests for intimate details of the others.

While my friends have always respected my life style choices and supported me, I have often suspected that some of them 'worried' about my choices. There is a pervasive suspician of people who chose not to settle down into monogomous relationships. There must be something wrong with them. They must suffer from low self-esteem; otherwise they wouldn't be jumping in and out of a different bed every week.

Right now, I'm at a place where I would welcome a life love (in case you hadn't figured that out). However, I haven't always felt that way; may not always feel this way and certainly I'm sure there are plenty of people who never feel this way. Do I feel like I'm 'ready' and/or interested in a partnership because I am somehow 'healthier' than I was when I less interested? or just more lonely? or am I just a 'relationship' person at heart. Or perhaps I just don't have the energy to 'buck' the trend and continually tolerate the pity of others who think I'm doing myself more harm than good by multi-dating.

Is monogamy the last bastion of sex / gender liberation? If and when we completely get a handle on sexism and hetero-sexism, will monogamy be the next to go?

Of course, not all life-mates are monogamous and some polyamorous relationships are long lasting and rewarding (apparently - although I've never personally met one). While 'open' relationships apparently do exist, it would seem that infidelity is far more common. According to the Ashley Madison Agency, a highly successful internet dating company catering specifically to married people seeking extra-marital affairs, "the percentage of those who say they have had affairs ranges from 25% to 75% of all males and 15% to 60% of all women" . http://www.ashleymadison.com/app/public/articles/5.p Even more interesting is that according to the same article, the Kinsey report in 1953 found that "26 percent of wives and 50 percent of husbands said they had had a least one affair by the time they were 40 years old."

So - why are we still so intent on monogamy as the ideal?

I'm all for people being happy and fulfilled in their choices - whatever they may be. However, it's always harder to be happy and fulfilled in your choice when you know that others don't respect your choice. I've never really thought monogamy was all it's cracked up to be: I've just resolved that generally.... it's easier.

Jazz Guitarist Take 2

Jazz Guitarist Take 2

Chalk Pastel - Sept 06

Why "chick-lit"?

A few people have asked (and no doubt others have wondered): Why the focus in this blog on men, love, sex, relationships? They have suggested that they would be very (more?) interested in my comments on other topics.

I guess the best answer to that question is: Because I don't know the answer! I don't know why I obsess about men, love, sex and relationships. I don't know why my sexuality is so closely tied to my identity.

All my life I've received mixed messages. Feminism has told me I don't need a man to be happy. Life (and my hormones) have told me otherwise. The past 10 years of pop culture have served me well in terms of giving me minor heroines to identify with.

"Sex and the City" hit the tv screen in 1998 and gave me and many other women a source of laughter and wonderful (sometimes shame-faced) moments of "I've been there! I totally relate!". In 1999 Helen Fielding's "Bridget Jones Diary" hit the bookshelves and then the theatres, followed by a plethora of "chick-lit" that explored women's quest for the ideal relationship.

Obviously I am not the only intelligent, beautiful, single woman struggling to figure out why men, love, sex and relationships still occupy so much of my emotional energy.

One blogger noted that chick-lit (from Austen & Bronte to Fielding and on) is ..."about searching for love mostly as a by-product of searching for identity." http://jenniferweiner.blogspot.com/2004_05_09_jenniferweiner_archive.html

Ah Hah! No matter how hard I may try I can not separate my search for love from my search for identity. Not yet anyway. Should I feel ashamed of this? I'm sure some of my hard-core feminist friends will feel ashamed for me - so I'll let them carry that burden. Hey - what are friends for.

Sarah Blustain briefly explored the "Sex and the City" phonomenon in a "New Republic Online" article http://www.tnr.com/doc.mhtml?i=online&s=blustain022004 (note that this link may not take you to the full article - but if you do a google search for "sex and the city" feminism, it will come up with the full article under the same url - GO FIGURE!).

Among other critiques and questions, Blustain notes that the show and it's popularity makes it clear that "the feminist movement should start asking questions of itself. Among them: Why is it that women so empowered are finding love so hard to find? What does it mean that the most educated and successful women are, as a group, less fertile than ever? Is there any real option for the single besides settling down? And for the single woman who doesn't settle down, what supports does she need for later in life?... How hard is it for such powerful women to fit into a well-functioning couple? ... What happens to such a woman's career when children come into the picture? And more generally, what happens to her hard-earned and long-lived financial and emotional independence?"

So - if you still want to know why the focus on men, love, sex and relationship in my blog - here is my final definitive answer: Cause I want to! So there!

(I, of course, reserve the right to change my mind at any time and write about whatever shit I feel like writing about.)

For an entry to a more 'academic' discussion on chick-lit check out: http://www.electronicbookreview.com/thread/writingpostfeminism/exemplary

Note: the pic in this blog entry is NOT my work - it is courtesy of microsoft clipart

Curve Balls

Sometimes it feels alot like life has me on the defensive. That the world is conspiring to just keep throwing stuff at me that I have to 'deal' with. Curve balls.

Then I give myself a shake and tell myself to quit thinking so negatively. Count your blessings. Be happy you've got as many gifts and privileges as you do. And I do.

But still.... sure would like the world to throw me a meatier bone now and again. I think the last really great bone I got was my daughter. It's been twelve years! Can I have another one please?
Last spring I thought I must be overdue to either a) win the lottery; b) land my dream job or c) fall madly in love with someone wonderful who loved me.

Instead I got a really ridiculous law suit and more of the same....

And the beat goes on and it's still fun to laugh.

Jazz Musician

Jazz Musician
Chalk Pastels
August 2006

.... hands are impossible!!! and I'm not really great at faces either!! Ah well.... I doubt I'm ready to give up my day job after a total of 3 drawings!!

Why not to mess with a librarian.

Not all that long ago I met a man in a bar. We laughed and danced, he walked me home and asked for my phone number. How 1950s, wouldn't you say. It was nice.

A week went by and he didn't call. It's not the first time a man has not called. But I thought this one would. He didn't strike me as a player.

Another week went by.

Here are the things I knew about him:

His age, first name (both legal and common), his profession and the neighbourhood in which he lived. I knew the year he was born and what he looked like. I knew that he was more fun on the dance floor than I've had with a man in a really long time. And I knew he kissed well.

I went online. Within half an hour I had his email address and sent him the following message:

Hello,

Never flirt in a bar with a librarian, because we WILL find you! : )

Since you haven't called I figured:

a) you are married
b) you didn't like me as much as you did when you were drunk
c) you lost my phone number
d) you blacked out the entire evening

Care to let me know?

signed,

tall beautiful blonde you met 'in orbit'

I heard from him the next day.

Sleeping and other bodily functions

One of the things that I'm really good at is sleeping. First of all, I grew up with one of the best sleepers I've ever met. My father. I swear to god, a normal day in my father's life (when I was a child) went something like this:

morning: rise early - somewhere between 4 and 8 am depending on the season. 7 would be pretty average. work, eat, have coffee, work, have a snack, work, break for lunch.

afternoon: have a nap after lunch either on the couch, or maybe in his chair, occasionally lying in the sun. work, have coffee and snack (or beer maybe in summer), work, quit somewhere between 3 and 6pm. Sit down to read a magazine, fall asleep. Wake up for supper.

evening: eat supper and chat with family. Lay down to watch tv, fall asleep. Wake up from nap and maybe spend a few hours on a hobby, talking with family, or more work. Fall asleep and if not already in bed, get up and go to bed.

Seriously.

Of course, don't forget I remember this through my child's eye. This was what his life looked like to me. I have less knowledge of what his daily life was really like. Seems I once heard he had difficulties sleeping... or maybe that was his mother.... Certainly we all know that great grandma who lived with dad as he was growing up - used to get up in the middle of the night and make oatmeal as she assumed it was morning, or at least was going to treat it as one if she were awake anyway.

I've inherited many things from my father and his mother's side of the family - one of them is sleep. We have a strange relationship with sleep.

I've been heard say on more than one occasion that I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and for any length of time. I knew when I fell asleep on a Guatemalan chicken bus - you know - one of those buses that we used here as a school bus in 1966, and then shipped to the third world thirty years later and is now serving as standard inter-town transportation for both cargo and passengers in many small countries. In Guatemala the people are pretty small. They put extra seats in the bus. When I squeezed my 6 ft form into the seat, my knees were pretty much in my chest. I slept for at least half of the 8 hour journey. In the heat! I knew then that I had a rare and wonderful talent.

When I fly from Toronto to Vancouver (4,5 hours) I often fall asleep before the plane leaves the tarmac in Toronto and wake as the plane approaches for a landing in Vanouver. I'm not kidding. I slept all but 5 hours of the 13 hour flight from Hong Kong to Vancouver and then half of the connecting flight to Toronto.

And no, I do not take sleeping pills.

I like to sleep. I do it a lot. I'm good at it.

Turns out I also have one and possibly two medical conditions that cause and/or necessitate that I sleep an inordinate amount. When it gets really bad I'll sleep about 17 hours a day.

It's a rare day when I can't fall asleep at night. Rarer still is if I awake in the night and can not go back to sleep. In fact, I wake often in the night. I wake, look at the clock, turn over and go back to sleep. Often up to 6 times a night. Like my father before me, I am the queen of the cat nap. 5 minutes; 15 minutes; an hour or two - and often.

So... when I can't fall asleep at night, I figure, like my great grandmother before me, that I may as well just treat it like a day. I get up. I do something. Tonight I have written this....

Actually I meant to write about this, and hormones, and that I'm having one of those 30+ day months that I get occasionally.... or is this the beginning of the end? meaning.... the big M; the M word; the change.... fucking menopause. Obviously, I'm not happily embracing this inevitable part of my life. I've thought alot about death and dying and I don't think I'm too freaked about that.... but menopause.... shit ... turns out I'm not really crazy about it. Like Samantha from "Sex and the City", menopause means growing old, losing youth, losing sex appeal. People can die at any age, but menopause only happens to those who live that long.

In either case.... onset of menopause or one of those freakishly long cycles I sometimes have... this explains a lot of my eratic behaviour of late. Turns out the week I met the latest object of my affection I was at the height of my cycle; meaning I was fertile and looking for sex! I really didn't think I was, at the time... but .... maybe that's it.

I do consider the possibility that love is just about proximity. I may simply fall in love with any man I fuck when my hormones are in a particular 'state'. That's it: wrong place, wrong time, if he likes me a little and is reasonably attractive himself. Voila! I'm in love!

Now... at least one of my friends would be interrupting me right about now to insist that what I'm talking about isn't love. Well, in answer to that I would say that I think there are lots of different kinds of love and that although they start and grow (or not) in many different ways... 'falling in love' is one of the more common starting points. Sometimes we 'fall in love' with someone we already know... a friend or colleague... but we still 'fall'.

Besides, that's one of the reasons why blogs are so great.... you get to talk, without friends interrupting.

I am kept awake by thoughts of the object of my affection; and that I am likely not the object of his affection; and perhaps I'm going into menopause and if that's true, it's no wonder I'm not the object of his affection.

If I keep this up I'll never fly. (Happy thoughts Peter. Think happy thoughts. - Tinker Bell to Peter Pan)

Happy thought: My day will come.


For more hormone related amusement see:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20060826.LEAH26/TPStory/?query=leah+mclaren

Under my skin

I suffer from a common love malady: I tend to fall for men who don't want me. Men who withhold their affection or are unable to express affection; who are fundamentally unavailable to me. Much has been written on the phenomenon of the emotionally unavailable male... I'm not going to wax poetic on that one.... the question for me is why me? Why do I do it? What draws me to these people.

My therapist and I have concluded that the roots lay in my first intimate relationship: the relationship with my mother. The hypothesis is that she was fundamentally unavailable to me in some important way and thus the unavailable seems 'normal' to me; attractive to me. Unavailable, in my weird little psyche, is a defining characteristic of love.


To make things even more annoying, for some reason most of the men that actually express desire for me are severly wounded and problematic people. They drink too much, are under achievers, and are angry with the world and ultimately act in abusive ways.

I probably scare the living hell out of your average healthy emotionally available man. I think I tend to the intense; and that can be pretty intimidating I guess. For example: here is a short and not overly poetic poem written during one of my many unrequited crushes:

I've got you under my skin.
I'm fucked up!
I want to scream.
I want you in my bed.
You have me body and soul (probably)
yet.... you don't want me.

If a thousand ants where crawling under my skin it would not torment me more.

Pretty INTENSE! Sounds like something a sixteen year old would write doesn't it?

I have these infatuations relatively often. I see something in 'us'. And they don't. Does this happen to all of us? or just me? Perhaps I've never managed to mature when it comes to intimate relationships.

.... and a note on art

In terms of work, it hasn't exactly been a productive summer. However, I am relatively pleased by the amount of creative product I have produced. So... I may well die a penniless artist one day. Starting to feel like an attractive option... hmmmmm

By the way, all the images on this site are my own photos or photos of my art. (Unless I note otherwise). I take many of the pictures with the idea of creating paintings of them. I'm overly drawn to flowers for some reason.

I find it hard to reconcile my self- image with my love of flowers sometimes.

Emotional memories

Lately, I've been thinking of going back through my files, journals, etc. etc. to find the evidence that supported my decision to spend those 5 years with x. Turns out, it was by far the worst relationship of my entire life. Yet I do remember a time when I felt, wrote, and believed that he was "my love, my life, my destiny".

How could my feelings have swung so extremely; from one end of the spectrum to the other in a mere 5 years? Am I bipolar? Is he? How could I have made such a bad decision? Maybe going back to the writings I made at the time we were getting together, would help me remember the reasons I made the decisions I did.

I don't do it though. The thought of reading my feelings from those days is exhausting and scary. I'm not ready to face that version of me, head on. I'm not ready to re-live some of those feelings; the memories are hard enough and they are fading.

Common wisdom maintains, and experience generally confirms, that ultimately we remember the good for longer and with better recollection than the bad. But does this remain true when the experience is REALLY bad? Do the biggest pains dull as quickly as the little ones? Do the good memories and feelings have enough power to overwhelm the really bad memories?

Here's a scary thought: What would happen if you had so few good memories that they just weren't enough to fill your mind, so the bad ones stayed with strength too?

So.... do we make decisions based on feeling good, and betting that if we make a decision in a particular direction we will continue to feel good tomorrow?

Indian Paintbrush

Indian Paint Brush Aug. 05

Slow? or Quick?

I usually think of myself as being quick. I generally understand others. I process information fairly quickly. People, to complement me, will mention my mental capacity more often than any other attribute I posess.

I'm usually impatient with those who process slowly. Especially men. I have chosen at least two men who drove me crazy because the speed at which they operated was noticeably different from mine. It does not necessarily follow however, that they were my intellectual inferior. Not necessarily so - just slower.

Therefore, it comes as a bit of a shock to learn that I am extremely slow at processing my feelings. It is Tuesday. I am starting to understand my behaviour on Sunday night.

I went to 'the local' for a pint. Love Sunday Night Gospel! I chatted with a number of folk I know there, met a few new ones. And yes, I did think how it would be cool if H were there and how he would react should he find me there.

Be careful what you wish for, they say. Almost last call and I turn and look up to see those eyes. I am surprised. He appears surprised as well. Light warm hugs and kisses are exchanged.

I felt mildly rejected and disapointed that my fantasy did not materialize. Duh! Like how often do fantasies actually materialize anyway?

He did not sit down next to me, look into my eyes and tell me: "I'm SO happy you are here."

I don't think he was either happy or unhappy that I was there. However it seemed clear that he was no more interested in talking to me that evening than anyone else there, and perhaps did not want to be seen as paying me more attention than anyone else. People can be strange about that.

But - boy - I want that. I want someone I like and am electrically attracted to, to find me as endlessly fascinating as I find them.

You know, I'm not sure there is such a thing as feeling 'mildly' rejected.

I didn't know at the time exactly what I was feeling and as such, doubt that I was at all clear or eloquent in trying to discuss my feelings with H. Why the hell did I feel compelled to discuss it with him at that particular time? Stupid fucking beer!

Will anyone ever understand that we have more to gain by falling in love than we have to lose? Life is fundamentally better when you are in love. Wow - I'm a fucking love addict!

I want a reasonable opportunity to work again at making a love like that last, evolve and reward.

Any takers?

J's family

I spent some time again this evening looking at the websites and blogs that J put up about his daughters.

I met J at a party about 6 months before the birth of his first child. I fell for him almost immediately. His wit and quickness blew me away. And he has the most mischievous smile with a twinkle in amazing blue eyes. Oh yes, and an accent to make my knees weak.

I didn't realize he was married. In a moment of brazenness I told him I really wanted to kiss him. I saw him hesitate briefly, but we did kiss and it was amazing. I was smitten. We met again a week or two later and even though at that time I did find out he was married we set out on a friendship that included sex. Sometimes I think we tried not to - certainly I think he tried not to. I didn't promise him anything, nor he I. After a few weeks J begged off the relationship and we minimized our contact to a phone call now and again.

His daughter was born with severe medical issues, no doubt putting stress on a marriage that was already very difficult (at least for J). Although he admitted loving his wife he found her very difficult to live with. A few months after the baby was born J and I got together again. Again it lasted a very few weeks; was restricted to very few get togethers and they were always very short and often did not even include sex. But an hour of conversation with J was more stimulating and enjoyable than entire evenings spent in the company of other men.

Six months later I received a Happy New Year greeting from J via email. Sporadically we had exchanged emails and the odd telephone call. I responded and we agreed to get together for a drink and a catch up. The baby was doing well, all things considered, but their marriage was more stressed than ever and his wife had recently proclaimed that she wanted a divorce. I felt so bad for them all and encouraged J to hang on to his marriage if he could.

During the weeks that followed we spent a bit more time together as J looked for a place to live and spent much of his time outside the house. We went together to the same annual party where we had met the previous year. It was the only 'date' we ever had and it was an amazing evening. We danced together and laughed and went home early to make love. Mostly I remember the dancing and how J liked to hold me so close to his body that it felt almost as if we were one when we were dancing.

I seldom thought that J and I would ever have a future together. Even if he hadn't been married, there were things about him that I think would have eventually caused me pain and I recognized them relatively early. Besides, at the time that I met J I was not interested in pursuing relationships. I was deeply wounded from my own horrible marriage that had ended the spring before J and I first met.

Shortly after that date, J called me to tell me that his wife had accessed his email and found out about us. They say that people who get caught in their affairs want to get caught and I often think that J wanted to be caught. Finding out about me seemed to galvanize his wife's resolve to stay in the marriage and eventually J felt he must give it a chance. His wife corresponded with me via email a couple of times. She was very accusatory and hurt and hurtful. J and I had coffee once or twice over the next few months but then we settled back in to our own lives and rarely corresponded.

About a year later I gave J a call to see how things were going. Their daughter was very ill and they did not expect her to live too much longer. She had been in the hospital for months and they were working to bring her home for palliative care. J also told me that they were expecting a second daughter in a few months. I called again a few months later and his workplace told me he was away for the week. I thought "either the baby has died, or the new baby has arrived".

Very occasionally when I am driving in J's neighborhood late at night I drive down his street to see if I can see him sitting outside having a cigarette. I know that is his habit, even if I don't know exactly which house is his. One night not so long ago I spotted him. I stopped the car and whistled softly out my window in his direction. When he looked up he recognized me immediately. He told me that the baby had died the previous month and that the new baby had arrived 12 hours later! We promised to get together for a drink one day soon.

In the following days I sent J an email of both congratulations and condolences:

It was really nice to see you this evening - if just for the moment. I'm not sure I reacted appropriately to hearing of [baby's] passing. I am so sad for you and [wife]. As I drove down Bathurst a wave of sadness swept over me and I wanted to cry for all you have been through in the last 3 years. I can't imagine the feelings that you have been going through - for to even try to imagine them overwhelms me. Happy for [new baby] - sad (and perhaps relieved and happy) for [first born]. Guilty for feeling happy and relieved and sad and .... it's just too much ...

Sometimes I wish we had never had what we had... perhaps if we hadn't we could just all be friends and part of one another's lives, and I could have known [your daughters], and it wouldn't be so difficult to just get together and talk politics and freakonomics and parenthood and how the world should be... perhaps even [wife] and I would get on - you love her - perhaps I would too.... it's just all a fantasy....

But we did and I can't really be sorry. Neither can I forget, nor completely let go.. I will always think of you and wonder how you are doing and every once in a while I will just appear - like tonight.

It still remains true - that an hour of conversation with you was more exciting and stimulating than an entire evening of love making with many others. It also remains true that you had kisses that made me feel I was 15 again.

I do hope we manage to get together for that beer every now and again.

My deepest deepest sympathies for your loss. And my most warmest congratulations on [baby's] happy arrival!

As always, I remain ...

Your friend and kindred spirit...

With love,



J called me one day a couple of weeks later (and a couple of weeks ago) and we chatted for almost an hour. I followed up with the following message:

Hi,

Thanks for calling tonight. It was nice to catch up, even though at times I found our conversation a tad awkward. I'm not sure why really - probably we were both in 'odd' spaces. Me: sleepy and still reeling from the legal battle depression stuff. You: sleep deprived, grieving, and as always struggling with the mild existential angst that we share.

I spent a lot of time this evening on [first born's] website and both her's and [new baby's] blogs. It's a gift you give to share your family and your experiences with the world. Thanks.

My heart is full and warm for you and your life so full of family and friends. Hang on to it J. It's really all there is.

Love,

Very very soon after sending that last message I received a voice mail message from J's wife. She had somehow discovered that J and I had been in touch, was furious and accused me of tempting a married man. I attempted to speak to J before I responded in any way to her message but he did not return my message. I finally wrote the following to his wife and copied him:

I received your voice mail on Sunday. I wish to assure you that I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with J. Yes it is true that I have spoken to him occasionally. I have called him a couple of times for professional advice re: web design and marketing. I have also called him a couple of times to inquire as to the health and well being of all of you (especially baby). I have also run in to him on the streets once or twice. That is all.

I suppose you are correct in saying that my motivations for contacting him on those few occasions have been selfish, in that I was the one seeking something: (advice and/or information). However, I certainly did not think that my calls could cause him, or you, any pain or suffering. I am notorious for keeping in touch with friends - if only through the occasional phone call. I find it difficult to dismiss people from my life completely. I choose my friends because of a real connection that does not just disappear when circumstances change. I did not for a moment expect that I was "fucking with his brain" as you put it. It is obvious that you have issues with trust or you would not be so hurt and angered by our occasional conversations. However, I do not wish to make things any more difficult or painful for J than they already are. Therefore, you can be assured that I will not be calling him again anytime soon.

Whatever happened between J and myself is in the past. I wish him (and you) all the best. I also wish to offer my sympathies on the passing of your daughter. And my congratulations on the recent joyful arrival of another daughter.

Best regards,

I have not heard again from either of them and this is how it should be. I check the websites for the girls that J maintains now and again. Perhaps I shouldn't. His wife's accusations haunt me.... did I 'tempt' J? What role do I / did I play in upsetting their life? Before I backed out of J's life when they decided to keep working on the marriage I asked him what his feelings were for me. He told me he felt tenderness. I too, feel tenderness for J.

I have promised them I will not contact J. So I won't. I hope I just bump into him once in a while so I can see that mischieveous smile again.

I miss him.

Taking Bad Turns

Unlike the legendary Alfhild - I have not (yet) had the wisdom to wait for my equal before succumbing to the temptation of marriage. Forty something years old, a myriad of relationships, marriages, lovers and liaisons and I seem barely closer to choosing a good partner.

Normally you would expect someone as useless at choosing men as I am to have a childhood history of bad relationships with men. I don't! I spent a lot of my formative (under 5) years with my father, uncle, and grandfather. I loved them all. They were all men worthy of respect. They are treated me exceptionally well. They were all kind, decent people. The closest they came to violence was going on male bonding hunting trips every fall.

Many women give up on men by my age. After all, by and large the majority female opinion is that with relatively few exceptions - men suck! But as my friend R says - I am perpetually optimistic in love. Also perpetually stupid she might have added, but kindly didn't.

The latest candidate has thrown yet another wobbly today and now I face going to a friend's birthday party without him when I had happily anticipated going with him. This one can't decide to be with me and can't decide to be without me. What's my excuse for tolerating this semi-abusive drama? He is actually a really good man. There are so few of them.

Like probably 35,000 other 40 something women - this blog is about my journey with men. Perhaps by the end of it I will be closer to understanding why I take so many bad turns on this journey.

Alfhild: The Pirate Princess

I found Alfhild's story during my many meanderings through cyberspace searching for unusual and strong women's names to use as profile nicknames.

Sometime in the 9th century (or at least sometime between the 5th and 12th century), Synardus, the King of Gotland (an island off the south-east corner of Sweden) and his wife had a beautiful daughter named Alfhild (aka Alvida, Alwilda, Alvild). In those days kidnapping was very common. Both humans and trolls were guilty of abducting others and the myths and stories of Scandinavia are full of kidnapping stories. Beautiful princesses were of course especially vulnerable. So, to protect the beautiful Alfhild, her parents kept her locked in her room, and set two poisonous snakes to keep away all but the most ardent of suitors.

The most persistent and brave fellow turned out to be Prince Alf of Denmark, and he was the only suitor to defeat the vipers. Thus earning the right to marry young Alfhild.

Now, it should be noted here that the snakes do not show up in every version of Alfhild’s story. Some say her father arranged the marriage with Prince Alf against her will.

In any case, apparently Alfhild was not the least bit interested in marrying some stuffy prince and moving to another country. Instead, dressed in man’s clothing she escaped and joined a band of other women who had no interest in marriage. In some stories it is suggested that these women were valkyries, thus taking the story out of the historic realm and into the mythic as the valkyries were undoubtedly mythic characters.

Before too long, Alfhild and her friends happened upon a band of pirates (unclear as to whether these pirates were men or women, or both – however most accounting suggest that all of Alfhild’s crew were women) who had recently lost their captain. Apparently they were so impressed with Alfhild that they quickly adopted her as captain and before long Alfhild commanded a fleet of ships that raided ships and settlements along both the Baltic and North Sea coasts.

Alfhild’s band of pirates became so well known and feared that eventually they attracted the attention of the King of Denmark who dispatched his son and greatest warrior to take care of this female nuisance: none other than Prince Alf who had been betrothed to Alfhild.

Prince Alf and his fleet chased Alfhild up and down the coast and although she fought back valiantly, eventually Alf’s ships cornered them in the Gulf of Finland and boarded Alfhild’s ship. A great battle ensued and both sides sustained heavy casualties. Alfhild found herself in deathly battle with Prince Alf himself. Alfhild wore a helmet that concealed her beautiful face and it wasn’t until she finally succumbed in battle with Alf and he removed the helmet that the prince realized that the powerful pirate warrior that he had been fighting was not only a woman, but also actually his escaped fiancé.

The battle with Alf had convinced Alfhild that he was not the silly weak prince that she had thought him to be, but instead was a man with strength and courage equal to her own. Thus impressed, when he immediately proposed marriage, she was happy to consent.
She went on to share his wealth and throne as Queen of Denmark, and together they had a daughter, who they named Gurith.

The primary sources that I used to compile this story are:

http://blacksheepancestors.com/pirates/
http://www.swashbuckler.co.nz/Realpirates/Realwomen.htm
http://www.beaglebay.com/women_pirates.htm#Alwilda
http://pirateshold.buccaneersoft.com/roster/alfhild.html
http://www.thepirateking.com/bios/alvilda.htm