Category: Runaway Ruca
Or how about a Revolution?
Jump aboard as I invite you on a high polar coaster ride of how this whimsical theater started in the first place. Now I’ve found a cult following… Yours truly, Kris Raines —your Runaway Ruca!
I Just Recently Paroled….
….from serving a WIFE sentence. You read that correctly — yes, I served 17 years of a Wife Sentence, suffocating in the stranglehold of suburbia. Not that I have any intention of throwing rocks through the stained glass windows of suburbia — it’s lovely, gorgeous and idyllic, right? It just isn’t for everyone, especially for some women of my time, class and generation… I realize those Marry Tales aren’t for everyone, especially me — but wait —wait —- it gets better!
I Earned My PhD In The Game Of Psych And My PhD Minus In The Game Of Wife… There’s nothing like an education —beducation??—- IDK—to incite the Sledgehammer Experience, right, ladies? So for those of you who haven’t hit the streets of Mexico lately, ’RUCA’ is Mexican slang for ‘Old Lady.’ But age is nothing but a number, right? Let’s hope so — because I’m running out of days on the calendar…. Just gotta keep on moving….
Sometimes You Just Gotta Know When TO Fold ‘Em….My Escape From Spouse Arrest Please allow me to share my experiences, adventures, discoveries and most of all the awe-inspiring sense of humor — or dark humor because the force is strong with me — because you’ve just gotta have one, don’t you? My intention is to inspire you to live your dreams and reconsider your pre supposed responsibilities.
No Bling, No Strings — Say It In Broken Blinglish! Welcome to my Mid-Wife Crisis!
Have you ever wanted to visit another planet? How about orbiting Pluto without so much as a set of keys? It can be done and stranger things have happened. So here I am, two years post-parole date and ever the Gitane. Since my ex and I settled the terms and conditions of our divorce holding hands and taking a walk (stranger things have happened? It can be done….) Actually, it was more than my pleasure to do so. Possessions own you – you don’t own them. And I didn’t want to own anyone, anything and or any other anything.
Let’s Play Spouse! Is There Life After Wife?
Act One: Scene Never Ending? During my Spectacular Performance of the One Woman Act of Roll The Rice and Play of Let’s Play Spouse and my second act as Life as Wife, there came a point when I honestly wondered when it was all going to end because, well, because….I just felt so alone in my marriage. Does it make sense to have loads of interests with someone but simply not get along? And to say we simply didn’t get along was an understatement. Maybe I just didn’t have what it took to burn my spouse down, IDK but whatever it was — or wasn’t — like I said before, sometimes ya gotta know when to fold em.
The Debate of Fate: Confront That Fib-liography!
So after retiring from the practice of cynical — that is — clinical psychology, I welcome you to a weekly Jappy Hour and have a Drink with the Shrink — sharing antidotes, experiences, fears, concerns, anything on your mind. Just say it. It’s okay — it’s just us girls.
The Runaway Ruca is structured for women ages 40 and above — — who feel they’ve evaporated in the confines of their time, class and generation— and realized, like the snap of a hypnotist’s fingers —that maybe, just maybe — there’s more life to live — for them and only for them.
Karma-geddon calling. We’re in this together. The Runaway Ruca is a support system that offers more in the way of education, enlightenment and empowerment: That women can make more of themselves than they’d expected or realized. We’re fearless. We’re empowered. We’re amazing. Our lives are waiting. All we have to do is claim it — seize it and run with it. And it’s okay to live in the moment, the unexpected and completely Zenlike — thoughts without a thinker. It’s okay to be mindless and play it by beer. It’s OK to roam, wander aimlessly — peripatetic, nomadic and insouciant. And not have to answer to anything or anybody or be somebody’s slave, chafferer or anything pertaining to their servant.
GO Om — Be Irresponsible! I double dawg dare ya!
Say It In Broken Blinglish! Bling It On? Not! It’s so funny —well, maybe more ironic, really…how so many women wistfully wonder about life with no bling, no strings….Life on the open road, travel with no address, no destination… Like those thoughts without a thinker…I’m the first to admit how terrifying the entire concept was to me and I knew I’d be alone, completely alone, all alone with me, myself and my mind. That was the most terrifying of all. Alone with my own mind.
Save it for another Wifetime.
Just in case you feel hesitant and need a little Future Focus Pocus, our Resident Hex Therapist, Theresa the Tarot Card QUEEN is always available! She’s the best. I just love how she reads with accuracy and clarity. Some wise words of wisdom from our sagacious sage of psychic incantations. Just love that Third Eye Chakra of hers.
So what motivated me most? Necessity and desperation? A bit of both. That and a High-Speed Face Lift. An honorary graduate of a BSM— Broke Single Mother — I decided to take fate and destiny and a Can handle attitude and run with it — run away with it, that is. Why not. I’m faced with confronting my Destiny. If I’m my own World’s Worst Wifemare — then
I have to admit it, own it and disown it and accept it. It’s okay — life on the open road….
Join me! Live your life to the fullest!
In Bod We Lust: Ok, we’re at “That Age…” Y’all over 40 mumble will understand me.
Does he work? And I’m not referring to gainful employment. I mean, work, as in function, as in, does he need to engage the Battle of the Rx’s? We must, we must we must improve our lust! From lust to rust? Let’s hope not — but it happens — and then it doesn’t.
So here I am — two years post-parole and still orbiting Pluto without an address. No kidding. Until I was forced to buy a car, I didn’t even own a set of keys — but that key is the only key I own.
Did I Lose Everything?
There’s Everything and then there’s Anything. No, I didn’t lose Everything because it depends on what you determine as “Everything.”
I can’t say I lost everything because the truth was I’d given it away. It was more than my pleasure. Possessions own you — you don’t own them.
There was a time when I honestly wondered if and when it was all going to end— sometimes you just have to know when to fold em and do so amicably and affably .If it makes any sense, is it possible to have a ton of interests in common with someone but simply not get along? After the date, mate and cohabitate, sometimes you have to manage the hand of fate.
Honest To Bod?
Conversations With Bod… Okay, ladies, let’s extinguish Our Inner Liar.
IF you’re like me, you’re so sick and tired of the same Debate Fate. After I realized it was Time to Extinguish that Inner Liar, I confronted my Fibliography: The Bitter Battle With My Thinner Child. That Thinner Child, Conversations with Bod and those Thighs, Lies and Alibis! Do girth defects really exist? And if so, do they start in the thighs? Do they escalate to the heart valve and invade the third chakra? There must be a route to self-acceptance in lieu of continual self-repentance. I can’t spend my life trying to lose the perceived hardware and the surfeit of adipose tissue cascading down my gut and butt and thighs, even if it’s merely my imagination. Worth control is always the better option and all will be well. Ya pasta! I mean, basta ….Maybe those Parisienne peregrinations will melt those pastries into the grounds of the Champs Elysee? On ne sais jamais….
Cultivate Your ESP: Emotional Self Preservation
Time To Dethrone That Liar Power. The inner voice desperate to dismantle your Inner Winner. Forget the All You Can Defeat aspect of yourself and start to cultivate your ESP: Emotional Self Preservation. You can do it. So pour yourself some My-nations instead of Lie-nations — release the past and live for now. Do it for yourself. Start your own Revolution. No more Zen-ohpobia!
So what’s an over 50 mumble-year-old Ruca to do?
All my life, I’d dreamed of roaming,….wandering ….experiencing faraway places, distant lands… sandy beaches, deserted deserts, metropolitan cities….everyplace, everywhere. Ever the escape artist and nomadic wandering soul, my only option was to hit the road to destination everywhere and experience life….And I’ve been orbiting Pluto ever since. It’s been a helluva an adventure and I’m grateful for every moment. A learning curve on the grand scale. And in the end, I’m grateful for the guys who tolerated me! I married two Jewish men but I never lived Happily Ever After. Never one for Blings and One Night Flings — we’ll get to the Down With The Wedding Gown soon enough — but first, let’s define those Little Finger Nooses- for my part it was all Say it in Broken Bling-lish! Marriage is fine — for those who can manage contracts and commitments and confinement and cohabitation — for more than a fraction of a New York Nanosecond. And yes, I discovered that there really is:
LIFE AFTER WIFE~
So after retiring from the practice of cynical — that is — clinical psychology, I welcome you to a weekly Jappy Hour and have a Drink with the Shrink — sharing antidotes, experiences, fears, concerns, anything on your mind.
The Runaway Ruca is structured for women ages 40 and above — — who feel they’ve evaporated in the confines of their time, class and generation— and realized, like the snap of a hypnotists fingers —that maybe, just maybe — there’s more life to live — for them and only for them.
Karma-geddon calling. We’re in this together. The Runaway Ruca is a support system that offers more in the way of education, enlightenment and empowerment: That women ca make more of themselves than they’d expected or realized. We’re fearless. We’re empowered. We’re amazing. Our lives are waiting. All we have to do is claim it — seize it and run with it. And it’s OK to live in the moment, the unexpected and completely Zenlike — thoughts without a thinker. It’s OK to be mindless and play it by beer. It’s OK to roam, wander aimlessly — peripatetic, nomadic and insouciant. And not have to answer to anything or anybody or be somebody’s slave, chafferer or anything pertaining to their servant. Go ahead — be irresponsible!
A Fate Worse Than
Save it for another Wifetime.
So instead it becomes what I call, Let’s Play Spouse! Almost like a portrait of Still Lives With Wives. Picture perfect on the outside —beautiful to look at on the surface but the core and substance of them — vacuous? And at some point you realize you are in a relationship with styrofoam. And you can’t conduct a relationship in a vacuum, can you, so you have to murder the core of your psychological self — the core of your emotional infrastructure who longs so desperately to fall forever and ever and ever into the passionate arms of someone who truly and honestly loves and adores and honors and cherishes you for now and forever and for all time but by reaching out and grasping the straws of a moribund marriage, those hopes were demolished, like cinders in the flames of a fiery conflagration that burned your dreams alive. And in the end, there was nothing but the vast, vapid vessel of a relationship from which you’d wanted nothing more to escape. Children didn’t fill the emptiness. They were merely a temporary distraction to prolong your crippled relationships. So if your life — or wife, that is — partner has no interest in the person beneath the visage and has no interest to learn about your hopes and dreams and desires, then you are absolutely in a relationship with a vacuum and in the end, nature abhors a vacuum, doesn’t it? And you are forced to confront that stranger in the mirror, the stranger you’ve become because you no longer know or trust yourself, the person you had to destroy in order to manipulate and configure yourself to adhere to the demands of another stranger, strangers neither of you really ever knew. Especially you, who more than anything not only craves understanding but acceptance, acceptance not only for the man you are on the outside but the vulnerable soul you are inside — all your today’s and yesterdays and tomorrows; the person nobody had ever really wanted to get to know.
Happily Never After
I married two Jewish men —but I never lived Happily Ever After…
The ‘Runaway Ruca’ Empowers Divorced Women To Escape From A Wife Sentence
Join Kristina Raines, The Runaway Ruca — inviting women to share in a “Mid-Wife Meltdown.” Women share experiences of travel and self-reflexions in an effort to explore not only the outside world —but the inside world.
Coming soon to the web is a truly unique Blog. While others target the backpackers and gap years, The Runaway Ruca is unique in that it specifically targets women who desire to hit the road to anywhere, everywhere and nowhere…. Created by none other than the ‘Runaway Ruca’ herself, Kristina Raines, a retired “cynical — that is, clinical” psychologist who hopes to empower and encourage other women through her own experiences and strength and stories.
Kristina laughs that “Ruca is Mexican slang for Old Lady” and this “old lady paroled after serving 17 years of a wife sentence” who wants to teach women in similar situations how to do the same. “After suffocating in the stranglehold of suburbia and escaping from spouse arrest, it was time to know when to fold em — for both of us. We settled the terms and condition of the divorce holding hands and taking a leisurely walk —around the surroundings of suburbia. Many women simply need to escape. The Runaway Ruca launches this blog for women who are dissatisfied, disoriented and just plain disgusted with their marital misalliances and a plethora of problematic issue confronting women, especially of my time, class and generation….” Kristina explains.
Travelling is known for its therapeutic effects. Simply escaping from a stressful situation can relieve anxiety and change perspectives, which is more conducive to a positive lifestyle. Such a lifestyle is that which the Runaway Ruca wishes to offer. Because of this, she invites women to share in her ‘Mid-Wife Crisis’ and together, these women will embark on a journey of Education, Enlightenment and Empowerment. For themselves.