What's it all about? I had dreams. I was going places. I wanted to travel, raise kids, have fun, be married to someone who cared.

Well, some of it happened and a lot didn't. Now, I'm middle aged though I look in my thirties, which is kind of a curse, really. You might say what a curse to have, but it's annoying to be thought of as "you have your life ahead of you." How do you tell them you've screwed most of it up, when you look like you've just graduated college plus a few years? So, I smile and nod and proceed to listen to their stories, being the young inexperienced person that I am.

Strangely enough, I'm mostly optimistic, though would like to be depressed, I mean, I've earned it! I just can't maintain it for long. I want to laugh. Make me laugh, I'm yours. I'm always thinking tomorrow is a better day, but man, have I been disappointed. You guessed it, I'm in a mood.

I don't laugh easily, so don't think you've already got me. I want the big belly laugh and I'm not fond of "jokes." I do love the real life humor of daily living and "can you believe what happened to me" stories. I have a few of them myself, so maybe I'll read yours and you'll read mine, and then we can call that a handshake of sorts.

I'm alone now. I'm secluded. I'm mysterious but it must be that way for awhile. I'm sort of hiding.

A friend from far away told me about hubpages, where I can be myself without revealing too much. I'm lonely, but I'll try not to depress anyone. ha!

I love the Cowboys, but that's about as sporty as I get. I love to write, and we'll get into that the next few days; I hope you will laugh at some of the things I tell, or cry, sometimes that's all the same.

I'm really into politics, but more in theory than specifics. I frequently go by my gut; I have a very in tuned "gut." Now. Would that it had been working some years back. It was asleep for 35 years, and by then it was too late. I was comitted to working things out. The only thing that worked out was my money, which began to disappear at an alarming rate when lover boy's secret expenditures were finally revealed.

I trusted too much. Won't make THAT mistake again. He was cute though, and charming, and snakey. Slithered right into my "you'll never hurt me" heart chamber and stayed their just long enough to not only spend my money but spend it on my best friend. Who's not anymore, by the way.

And, if there's any comfort in looking young, it's that she looks damn old. Smoked light a freight train, sexy for awhile, and I thought she was one of those soul mates, sisters to the death and beyond, if you understand.

Well, she got my suspcions up, and I did something I prbably shouldn't have, but she wasn't available at the same time when hubby wasn't available just one too many times. So, I sneaked out to the cabana, when I had one, and put a voice activated recorder under the bed. Sensitive little piece of equipment picked up more than I wanted to listen to, but it made great evening background music when we were all at my next pool party.

I played it for EVERYONE. I got the last laugh, but it is a lonely echo. Didn't have him sign a pre-nup and so I'm still paying for the attorney to find a loophole. It will be cheaper to just buy him off, and that's next. Revenge flitters through my mind, until I got some strange phone calls, then I decided maybe distance was a good thing after all. Hence the hideaway. It's rather mysterious, I know. You ought to see me now.

Anyway, he's either spent or squirreled away over $250,000 and you might ask how that can happen. Good question. I had cards, he had cards, we all had cards. He used his, I didn't pay attention because he was just that charming, and maybe I was just that dumb.

So, here I sit, no family, no friends, no pool, no pet. Unless you count the birds and a few deer, and I do. Count them. The deer stand outside and chew grass and look at me from a distance. They don't talk much.

The birds, they chirp and talk all the time, they aren't burdened by deceit. Their song is a lovely one, which is remarkable considering the things they eat.

So, hubbers, I've read a few of you. I'll be joining your fan clubs, and looking to be cheered up, but don't feel as though you have to work extra hard or anything. I'm tough, I only have myself to blame, and I am enjoying licking my wounds for awhile.

I've read a few hubs and am already entertained. Just be gentle with me, I'm practicing being fragile. It's my new look. Slightly wounded eyes, a gentle tone to my voice and a slow but steady walk. With a big hard bat by my side, the jerk better stay away. I hope he knows he is one. I think deep down, he does know. How can anyone feel good about what they do ,when what they do injures another, but oh, they do it so well?

For an older "young lady," I'm just staying alive.