Monday, July 4, 2016

Happy Independence Day

MonkeyME in a tree
Photo by DustBunny

I am focused on my independence.

I am living big - packing as much as I can into each day.

I am making plans - all of them short term, some impulsive, because there is no guarantee of tomorrow.

I am surrounding myself with amazing friends. There is so much laughter. So much to learn. So much to celebrate. So much I would have missed if I continued to isolate myself in my marriage.

I've attended multiple workshops at the Omega Institute, in Rhinebeck, NY.

To nurture an ongoing connection with my son, on Memorial Day weekend (the anniversary of his death), I took a four-day workshop with medium,  Lisa Williams. SHE is fabulous. She taught me so much more than the art of mediumship. She showed me how important it is to live for yourself, without apologies. To live without censorship. To trust my inner guidance and to grab as much as I can get.

To nurture my love of self, I took a three-day workshop with Anita Moorjani. SHE is fabulous. Anita survived and thrived after her cancer.  I do not like to associate these words with such a horrific disease, but she is the exception to the rule. Anita, totally debilitated from stage 4 cancer, entered a coma and while her organs were shutting down, traveled to another realm of consciousness. There she discovered her true purpose in life and the importance of self love. And when she agreed to come back, she did so cancer free.

MonkeyMe and Anita Moorjani

On a whim, I flew out west to celebrate a DEAR (Burning Man campmate, chosen family) friends 40th birthday. The time it took me to get there was almost as long as the time I spent there, but it was PACKED with love and all things amazing, and I felt honored to be a part of such a magnificent celebration.

With my Chosen Family celebrating Jelly's 40th Birthday - aka Jelly Burn 2016

I began the practice of Transcendental Meditation back in early June. It was one of many birthday gift to myself. I practice this technique twice a day for 20 minutes. The immediate benefits include a steady stream of intense joy and an appreciation for the perfection that is LIFE, balance with a peacefulness that allows me to digest, without being infected by, the turmoil and turbulence that sometimes bubbles around me.

I revisited Saratoga Springs, NY with family and friends for my 17th year at the Jazz Festival. Regardless of the lineup, it never disappoints. Together we laughed and celebrated and misbehaved. It's all too silly to make sense of to anyone who didn't witness it first hand, but I laugh out loud, still, every time I think of it.


This is where, last year, I met George Clooney. He was back again for round two, but when I asked him if he wanted to take a walk in the woods (a repeat of last years teenage make-out session), he responded that he was too tired. That is when I finally realized our fairytale romance was over.

Friends, Family and Clooney

He was quickly replaced by John Jacob Jingleheimer - a tall, well built, forty-two year old, former naval officer who walked a bit too close to our blanket. After reeling him in and dirty dancing with him, we exchanged numbers and jumped into an intense state of texting. Without warning, he sent me a text of his semi-wrapped, well endowed "package" which I found shocking and offensive (and perhaps a bit too large). After showing his photo to everyone present, and 20 or 30 of my closest friends (and now YOU), I discovered that the only one who found this disrespectful was me. When I expressed my dismay to him, his defense was that my sensuality demanded it.

The package

We played this ping-pong texting game for a total of five days, during which time he described what I consider the BEST first date ever.

I come out to you on a weekend. Early. I take you for a pedicure. We go to lunch. I take you shopping. Multipe boutiques. Try on different outfits. Have fun! Talk. Flirt. Tease. I buy you an outfit to wear for dinner. Mabye shoe shopping to see your sexy feet deliciously decorated for my pleasure.  Cocktails and more conversation and flirting at the bar.  I want all eyes on you. Drinking in your sexual energy. Dinner. Quiet booth. Rub your feet and legs after - softly. Kissing, touching.

He dumped me when I refused to send him anymore pictures of my feet and after declaring that his fetish for feet and older women struck me as "dangerous."

I must confess...This was not my first, post divorce failed attempt at celebrating my sexuality.

When I was dangerously close to overextending my leased mileage, I found Brandon, the Audi salesman. This 6 foot 7, 43 year old, former hip-hop rapper, managed to sell me a car without me realizing I was being sold something. And when he offered to bring a luggage rack to my house and install it himself, I had no idea he meant to install more than a luggage rack.

In the showroom, Brandon was a refined gentleman, but after-hours he was a man on a mission, determined to introduce me to his side of the hood.

I invited him to lunch on a weekend when my grandson, Jackson was with me. After a few beers and an extra large pizza, he let his intentions be known.

"I think you're grandmother is fine," said Brandon.
"Thanks," said Jackson, totally in awe of his grandeur.
"When I showed her how to work her new car, my dick got hard," said Brandon

When I erupted in embarrassment Jackson, cool as a can be said, "It's okay Nanny, sometimes that happens. He's just keeping it real."

I sent Brandon out the door before he had a chance to install my rack, but later rethought my decision. Despite his abruptness, there was something undeniably alluring about being with someone who was the total opposite of my X-husband - tall, black and bold vs small, white and withdrawn.

The next time, I cooked him dinner while entertaining him with reasons why we were not a good match.  For one, his age. And second, his late night texts and a past that changed its stripes every time he spoke about it.

Somewhere after the grilled salmon but before the dessert he argued, "but look at my dick," and then he took it out of his pants.

I don't have a picture of it. I would have had to be in the next room to fit it into one frame.

MonkeyME and the Wolf Cub

I still dream about my night with the Wolf Cub, and wonder if there is a man out there with the perfect balance of youth and wisdom. Someone who can entice and entertain me. Someone who doesn't need an afternoon nap, or a little blue pill, or a toupee, or a man bra, or a mommy, or a .....

Until then, I'll keep having fun.

XO, MonkeyME

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Shannon E. Kennedy


Photo by Joan Harrison