Nobody loves a hypocrite.

And yet, hypocrites believe that, for all their ranting and raving, and for all that they say or do, their hypocrisy doesn’t shine brightly for the whole world to see.  It does.  It is a beacon in the night, calling out to the world to stay away, to not trust that individual, to not get sucked in by their bullshit.

In my mind, there are hypocrites, and there is a simple act of hypocrisy.  I believe that the two are vastly different. Sometimes, that single act of hypocrisy does not define the individual. It’s isolated and never repeated.  But then there are the others – the hypocrites – those that live, breathe, eat and shit hypocrisy.

God how I hate hypocrisy.  I hate it so much that, when I realize that someone is a hypocrite, I simply remove them from my life.  This is the newer, stronger, healthier Pat who no longer tolerates hurt and angst, where she has control of it.  I have put people out of my life in the past year – some of whom I have known for most of my life.  I have done so because of their repeated hypocrisy – and it was painful for me to realize what hypocrites they were, but it was also good to realize that it was far healthier for me to eliminate them (and, with that, their hurtful hypocrisy) from my life.

This post was borne of a new act of hypocrisy.

And yes, as my friend Rhiannon says, this is a form of vaguebooking.  But, I needed to get it off my chest.


Sleepless in Palmyra

Seems sleep these past few days is nothing but a struggle.

I’m up at 2:30 am, while my girl sleeps. Honestly, I’d rather be there with her but my restlessness was disturbing her, so here I am.

I got an offer on the farm tonight, and sent a counter offer back. Thinking now about how and when this will allow me to retire, but also how that will affect my income. Will I need to work anyway until next year when the army retirement kicks in?

If I retire now, I take an 18% hit on my retirement. If I wait until next year, it’s only 12% (because I’m under 62). If I wait, I can still take the proceeds from the sale of the farm, pay off more than half of that marital debt I assumed, and rest easy until August of next year, which was the original plan.

Then there’s Lynn. We miss each other so much when we’re apart. Retirement would afford me the opportunity to…what? See more of her, most likely. But perhaps my troubled mind is more about that future with Lynn than my financial woes.

We talked a little tonight about the potential for a long-term relationship.  Certainly she has worked so hard for the past decade to be ready for one. I worry that I may need to do more work before that happens. I have been deliriously happy with Lynn. I truly love her very much. After what happened with Lisa, I thought it would be another whole lifetime before I could ever love or trust someone, but Lynn has made that so easy for me.  I keep trying not to over think all of this, but I think it’s in my nature to do just that. Maybe all I’m feeling is that whole “lesbian urge to merge.” But honestly, all I can come up with, with absolute certainty, is that we are a couple of aging lesbians that just want to go out of this life with some happiness.

Deep inside her, I believe Lynn is very afraid of losing her independence and sense of self that she has scrabbled and scratched and fought so hard for.  Financially, though, she’s in a world of hurt with Social Security being her only income.  I can take care of her, but will she lose that sense of independence if I do? I don’t think she wants me to take care of her, and she’s the kind of person who feels like she isn’t contributing enough. Of course, I could never put a value on what her love and companionship would mean to me, but I don’t think she’d accept that as reasonable enough.

She’s very close with her kids, and I think there is hesitation on that front as well because what I keep leaving unsaid is that I’m likely to not want to settle back in Palmyra. I started out there 25 years ago, and hated it. It reminds me too much of Bath, and my life there.  And I hated myself there.  I don’t want to live within the confines of Rochester any more either.  I want a little piece of land someplace that we can live on, have a small vegetable garden, maybe some chickens, and not have the world pressing in around us on all fronts.

Lynn’s kids seem to be very devoted to her, and I can’t take her away from that life that she has had with them all these years. I wouldn’t want to. But I also don’t want to live on top of them (like she does right now – and that suits her needs right now).

Look at me. Worrying about what could be instead of focusing on what IS.

  • I have a wonderful woman in my life who loves me.
  • I have a wonderful woman in my life with whom I am not only in love, but deliriously happy.
  • Lisa is so far behind me that it often feels like decades have passed since she was part of my life.
  • I have a good job that pays me very well. I have a secure future with two retirements. Not many people can say that.
  • I have good people in my life who treat me with respect, love, and dignity. Most importantly, I have a “best friend,” something I’ve never had before.
  • I laugh a lot these days.

There’s more, but I think I’ve talked myself out of this funk and may be able to sleep now.



I think we are all creatures of habit.  We like structure, order, and routine even though we say we don’t.

Every single morning, my clock radio goes off at 6:20.  Marti Casper Meyers is (was) the morning personality.  I loved listening to her talk about life.  She was real, funny, and maybe just a tad bit irreverent (but never disrespectful).  When I am getting ready in the morning, I know what I should be doing when the news comes on, or Hollywood Bytes, or any of the other things she always did on a schedule.  She kept me on time every morning.

Sure, anyone else can keep me on schedule, but Marti did it because I actually LISTENED to her. She’s a mother. An athlete. A spin instructor. Someone who constantly works for a better cause than a paycheck. A consummate professional who gave everything she had – including family time – in order to do the job of morning DJ on WFKL 93.3 (Fickle 93.3).

And today, she got “restructured” out of a job.

I just restructured the dial on all of my radios. No more Fickle 93.3.  In an age of playlists and electronics integration in cars, it would seem to me that these types of decisions would be very carefully thought out because people don’t really like change. People listen to certain radio stations for a reason.  As I told Marti, I have no loyalty to any radio station.  It is the radio personality that makes or breaks my listening experience.  As it is, I only listened to the radio in the mornings because I liked listening to Marti.  I did NOT like listening to the jackass that was on the air on my ride home.  He uses “that’s so gay” as an expression, and doesn’t GET how offensive it is.

I have more than 600 hours of music that can be played in my car.  I’ll be doing just that.

As far as I’m concerned, they just changed their name from Fickle 93.3 to Fuckoff 93.3.


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