Sorry not sorry…

Source: Sorry not sorry…

Sorry not sorry…

Hello again….it's been a while.

What the shit with the title you say? Well here goes.

I apologize a LOT. I apologize for everything. Things I have no control over. You feel bad? Sorry. You are having a bad day? So sorry. Anything and everything that happens with my people and nothing to do with me? I am always sorry. As if I actually had anything to do with it.

Of course I apologize for everything to do with me. I'm sorry I feel horrible and can't make it to whatever you are doing. I'm sorry I can't talk right now…not because I am busy but just because I am in anxiety hell and just can't form coherent sentences. I'm sorry I'm so broken. I'm sorry I'm not prettier, funnier, better than I am. I'm sorry my health has to come first sometimes. I'm sorry I can't do everything to help you because I can't help myself. And on and on….it's sickening.

My shrink assures me this is not uncommon. People who have had some damaging experiences and relationships tend to believe that they are responsible for all of the bad in the world. The good? Nah we don't have any hand in that…we just feel like we ruined EVERYTHING ALWAYS AND FORVER. It's part of the whole "depression and anxiety" package. The bonus is we tend to put ourselves in situations where we feel the need to apologize relentlessly. This is annoying to you because you're trying to understand why I am so damn sorry for everything and frustrating to me because I know I am not directly responsible but dammit I want to fix it for you.

I never really gave it a lot of thought before. It has just been a part of my existence for so long I never noticed. A kind friend told me recently how annoying it is. Not in a harsh way. She was telling me because it hurts her that I hurt not being able to rectify something that is not my circus or my monkeys. "Why are you sorry? You didn't have anything to do this? I am not telling you to have you fix it I am just sharing." Oh? Um…I'm sorry…that I was sorry…UGH

So…I identified the issue. So now what?

I have no idea? You can't just "fix" mental issues. You can't. To all the people out there that say "Just stop" that is not an option. Just be happy! Yeah…no. Believe it or not, all of the people in the world that have depression would love to just "be happy" trust me. I really think most of us would give up something HUGE in exchange for just being deliriously happy. It just does not work that way. Instead we try medicine and therapy and hate ourselves for being broken and for not being able to just turn the switch and be happy and thankful and awesome.

To be clear…I am NOT writing this for any of you to contact me with sympathy. Please don't. I will end up apologizing for making you feel bad which defeats the purpose. I am writing this sort of cathartically. Self realization is a good thing. How do you know there is something to work on without recognizing it? I am actively trying to stop the madness. I want to be less abusive to myself. Be able to speak a little more kindly to myself. Maybe begin to give sympathy and help without taking your issue as something so personal that I have to fix. Just be a sympathetic ear and shoulder without being a hot mess about not having the solution.

This entire entry is really just one big apology acknowledging I know I have a problem and yeah I'm a broken work in progress. Please do not take it as a "cry for help". I won't take it and will feel weird about it. I am reading a book written by someone who has similar mental and physical issues as me. Not totally bit we share a common bond. She writes these hilarious stories about being a bit (omg so much more than a bit) off. She is fully aware she has problems. She knows she makes the lives of the people who love her more difficult because it's hard to deal with her mania. She writes and blogs and just vents all of it. It's good for her to see it and to share it. I think that's what made me want to write this. Exposing myself and knowing what needs more work is good. It gives you focus.

So now what do I do? It's not like going to the store and buying a cure. There is no cure. You take things to help. Sometimes those things stop working and you have to start over with new meds that might help. Sometimes you need more or less and don't realize it until you are hiding in the closet with your phone because you just need a little peace without being needed.

I make this promise to all of you. I won't give up on myself if you don't give up on me. I know I am a challenge to deal with sometimes. I know I am in your face trying to be super helpful but really not. I know I am also kind and loving and will do anything for my people. I am am empath so I absorb your mood. I share the sorrow and pain and happy and silly. It's exhausting for everyone. I have decided that every day I will try to be better than the day before. Even if it's just not being a menace to someone "checking on them" because holy shit I worry about you. Even if instead of apologizing I am able to give comfort instead of trying to take it on. Even if it's just not manically texting you because I think I have somehow offended you without even speaking to you that day. I return I ask for your patience. Not sympathy. Not worry. I am a grown ass woman. Just a little mentally messy. I have 6.3 million things wrong with me physically. The mental part is a small part of who I am but it is part.

So that's it. Just a self realization I had that I wanted and felt I needed to put out there. This is for the people I annoy with my crazy and for those that maybe don't know all that much about me. It's easy to form a judgment on someone if you don't know them. I prefer you know me a little before you think I am just a whackjob. I do not reach out to people. I just don't. I sometimes will tell someone a little of what's going on with me but I feel guilty complaining so I try very hard not to. I pull away from people when I am having a hard time physically and mentally. It can be taken as me being aloof if you don't really know me. I am probably one of the most understanding people you will meet. I just need to completely disconnect sometimes. It's me not you…

So…not sure if you enjoyed my self look here. I can't imagine it's all that interesting . It was just something I felt I needed to do. I don't give a lot of thought to how I can help myself. This seemed like a great idea. Sort of like admitting it and now owning it. It's time I worked a little on myself rather than trying to help everyone else. Not that if you ever need me I would not be there. I am learning to prioritize the crisis rather than just ignore myself for everyone else.

Thank you for reading. It was not easy. I usually never have trouble talking. I talk in my sleep! But it's harder when I am focusing on ME. Also, thank you to the people that stick with me even when I am too much to deal with. I know I am…I'm trying.

Please remember to live responsibly and love hard…being kind makes you feel good too.

I’m positive…

Hello world…

I will begin by saying 2016 was a rough year. When I often had plans to write I didn’t simply because I could not find the words. When someone you love dies…it’s sometimes difficult to find your way again. When three people you love die…well in my case you may implode.

This is not what this post is about though. This post is about being positive. It’s about trying to find that little shimmer of light even when it seems like it’s pointless. It’s about not letting others dictate your heart.

Today I had a conversation with someone who has been a part of my life for thirty years plus. That’s a lifetime of friendship. We have taken turns listening and offering help to each other for almost our whole lives. I trust him implicitly. 

We talked about how important it is to be positive. To not let life overwhelm you to a point you cannot see clearly. To not let others drain you of your positivity to replenish their own. There are so many happiness vampires out there…beware.

If you know me…you know that I have struggled with this very concept. In my heart I want to be Positive Patsy but realistically it’s not always the case. I often let things creep into my heart and head and let them take over. Sometimes as much as you want to “let things go” it’s not always that easy. So trust me…if you read the words “try to be positive” and scoff at them you are not alone…I have done the exact same thing. I have thought “it’s easy to remain positive when you don’t have all that much negative to worry about!” The truth is…you never know what someone is carrying with them. You don’t. You never know how something will affect someone. You don’t know that person unless you are that person…and even then sometimes it’s difficult.

So…just be positive right? How the hell does one do that? Like…all the time? Life is hard. It’s confusing. Things don’t turn out the way you wish. People die. The list goes on. So how exactly do you expect me to be positive all the time? You don’t…and neither do I. It’s impossible to always look on the bright side. The key is knowing that its not forever. It might not be great immediately but it will be ok. I know that I personally need to kick things around a bit. Maybe hold them up to the light to be able to find that little thread of positive to pull. 

I have always been a big advocate of FAITH. Believing in something. I don’t necessarily mean a Higher Power. I definitely don’t believe that you just pray away and that Higher Power fixes it for you. I am talking about faith in something. Maybe just having faith in yourself? Believing that despite whatever you are facing you are going to be ok. You may be a little worse for wear. Maybe a little tired. But essentially here you are…you made it. You are pretty amazing!  If you want to be happy you need to live happily. If you want kindness you need to be kind. Having faith in yourself and believing in yourself I really feel is are the first steps to a more positive life. It’s ok if something isn’t perfect. It’s ok if it’s not exactly how you meant it to be. You got there because you were strong and had faith in yourself…

Easy to say right? I know. I used to wonder all the time what my purpose on this earth was. When my mother was alive I assumed I had been put here to take care of her. And I did. And that was good. When she died…I lost my faith. I still can’t wrap my mind around why someone so kind and loving was left to suffer the way she did. She had to carry so much. She did it with never ending kindness in her heart. With endless supplies of love. Always with a smile on her face. She was able to be positive …someone who had everything stripped from her and was left with a body that gave up was still able to bring a smile to anyone’s face that came in contact with her. How??! For 22 years she was my purpose. My light. My faith. When she died I was left with nothing. So why am I here?

Well life went on as it does even when you are sure it won’t. Things happened. Good and bad. I eventually started to believe again. I didn’t have faith in myself…but I started to realize that life is exactly what you make of it. If you want to be happy you won’t get there by crying every day. You need to work for it. Although I still was looking for why am I here?

Admittedly, I have spent a good portion of life sort of waiting for the axe to fall. I believed that when something good happened surely there was a bad thing right around the corner. It’s a terrible way to live. It’s unhealthy for you and for those close to you. Who wants to be around Debbie Downer all the time? Always waiting for the negative. It was who I was though. Getting sick and realizing it was permanent made me a difficult person to be around. I can admit it now. I can see how much poison I had in my heart. I had zero faith in myself. I didn’t believe that things, even though not my ideal, were going to be ok. It is exhausting. So exhausting to be that person…even more to deal with that person. How was I ever going to be happy?

Most of you know that I have had a lot of surgery. More than any one person should have I think. I can much easier name the parts of my body that haven’t been operated on as opposed to those that have. Many years ago I was having what my doctor considered a routine procedure. I was going in, having it done, and going home same day. No muss no fuss. During that procedure things went sideways and I stopped living for a few minutes. Instead of waking up with a little discomfort ready to go home I awoke to being hooked to a ventilator and many other tubes and wires that kept me alive. To say I was shocked is an understatement. There were obviously some complications and during that time my heart checked out. But here I was …alive again. No I dont have any out of body “I saw a bright light” stories but I did come away  with the same question…why am I here? Not only was I here but I was gone and brought back. Surely for a reason? 

You would think this was my turning point right? That was when I turned my life around and found faith and happiness. Nope…I was still the “cup is half empty” girl struggling with depression and purpose. I was almost angry at times that here was my way out and it was snatched away from me. Depression is ugly. It can make you irrational. It was not getting better. I was in a spiral…

I wish I could say there was this event that changed it all for me. That one day everything just fell into place and I changed. That’s not how it happened. My progress has been slow. I started to see a psychiatrist because I clearly needed help. At first I was ashamed. I didn’t like people knowing I was seeing someone. That I was taking medication that kept me from laying on train tracks and waiting. I hated who I was. My mind and body are broken. I am useless…

Guess what? Nothing changes in a day. Maybe not even two days or weeks or years…but when you finally see for yourself that you are changing in a positive way it is one of the most amazing feelings you will experience. Not loving yourself or even liking yourself is devestating. Not having faith in yourself or believing in yourself is cruel punishment. It’s a vicious ugly cycle that sometimes you need help in breaking. That’s ok. When you understand finally that asking for help is ok and that it’s going to be ok for not only you but for the people you love it’s enlightening.

So here I am today. Talking about being positive to you who took the time to read this. Do I think being positive is easy? Absolutely not. Do I still have days where being chipper feels like a job? Of course! I also know in my heart and mind that being positive is benefitting me and those that care about me. You see, being miserable affects everyone. You may think it doesn’t but unhappiness and negativity are an easily spread disease that slowly hurts everyone. When you are deep in it you don’t see what your negativity is doing. Comments, actions, they leave marks. You deserve to be kind to yourself. Others deserve your kindness. There is a reason random acts of kindness are so effective. Sometimes a smile or a kind word to someone may be the only positive they have had that day, that week….and it is so good for them. It eventually starts to make you feel good when you can make someone else feel good. It’s so much easier to be positive. Negativity is such a happiness drag. 

Am I positive all the time? Heh…no. I have moments when I can’t seem to see the happy ending. I can say that I have faith in myself again. I believe in myself again. Is that because my life is perfect? …no. It’s because I truly believe that in the end things will turn out ok. Maybe not exactly how I wanted but sometimes I’m surprised that things turn out better. I have stopped waiting for the bad things to happen. I have begun to live that day and not worry about tomorrow or a week from now. I have been informed numerous times that I do not have the ability to see the future so I should not live as if I do. I should be thankful for today and if I wake up tomorrow be thankful again. Life changes in an instant. 

I guess I am writing this to ask you the reader to give positivity a chance. The world is so insanely negative right now. Social media is bursting with people that are waiting to piss all over your positive attitude. I found myself arguing and not being very kind to people. I don’t like that person…that one I have become when I am not nice. I am only hurting myself letting myself become angry and argumentative with others. I am actively trying to change it in myself. I want to be able to put a smile on someone’s face not hurt them with angry words. In turn I am also refusing to associate with negativity. I will no longer tolerate people who are openly and purposely being nasty and hurtful to me or my people. I have no room in my life for people with ugly hearts. I will not waste one moment arguing that with you any longer. If you want to be nasty feel free to find another recipient. I’m not the asshole whisperer…

So the key words here? Positivity! Faith! Believe! You are not alone in this world. It’s ok to need help and to ask for it. You have people that love you and want you to be happy! No one wants to be around someone who is always negative. Your negativity adversely affects those around you so be aware! Don’t drag others down…believe it’s going to be ok and build yourself up. Live happily and with kindness …you will be amazed at how much better it feels to be a bright light for yourself. And most of all…do not allow others to dull your shine…its ok for you to walk away from negativity…you are not the asshole whisperer either…

Where the hell have you been?

Ok…no I have not posted a blog in a very long time. What’s the excuse? We are big kids…I am not going to give you excuses. It’s mostly me being lazy or emotional or whatever. The summer…the kids…me being lazy…appointments…commitments…me being lazy…you get the idea.

They have made my blog site so user friendly it really is silly that I don’t use it more often. I will definitely try. No promises. The pull to play Yatzee and watch movies is very strong…bu I will do what I can.

So what shall we discuss today?

Let’s talk about people. We all have friends, neighbors, family, etc. We deal with people every day for many different reasons. Some interactions are quite pleasant. Others not so much on any level. If you are like me, you are an outgoing introvert. By this I mean, when I am in the mood to be social I can be the life of the party. I can literally talk to anyone about anything for any length of time. The problem with me is I am not always in the mood to be social. Most times I am more than happy to flit about in my own little world. I can go entire days without interacting with the outside world and I am perfectly happy. I also have one of the worst cases of “resting bitch face” known to man. I don’t mean it…it’s just my face. It actually comes in handy.

I was not always this person. I have evolved quite a bit over the years. As a kid, I was horribly shy. So shy that in most cases I would have let myself bleed out before getting a persons attention. Painfully ugly shy. I am not entirely sure why that was the case? I had a loud often quite obnoxious family. They were not shy about ANYTHING. I also had sadistic relatives who thought torturing me and putting me in horrible public situations was quality entertainment. Tina is shy? Oh ho !! Well we need to draw as much attention to her as possible to watch her implode. True story: when I graduated from nursery school they had us stand in front of all of our families and friends to sing and be given our “diplomas”. I was so horrified that all these people were staring at me that I hid next to my mother in a fit of hysteria the entire time. I was mortified.

As time went on I started to become a bit more social. I realized that unless I wanted to spend an awful long life all by myself I needed to be a little less scared of the world and a little more friendly. I made amazing neighborhood friends and they helped me to come out of my shell a little. I still would rather stay in the background but I was better at being in social situations.

Years went by. I went from shy to “oh my she sure is friendly!”. If I walked into a room where I didn’t know anyone I would know everyone by name before I left. Suddenly being center stage under all the lights was not bad. I liked to be in the middle of people. I became a super talker. I pretty much talked to everyone all the time. I liked to be amongst lots of people and missed it when I wasn’t. I talked to people all day at work yet still wanted to hang out and talk all night. I NEEDED to have the attention. I WANTED to be wanted. I have always had jobs working with the public so I was very successful at them. I was in my element with people.

Than, the birth of cell phones. Don’t get me wrong…I had a beeper so I was reachable but the beeper was useless if you didn’t have a phone to reply. Yes we used the cute little codes like “ILY” to communicate without calls but the cell phone really changed everything. Now we could talk to someone anytime anywhere! So much easier! How did we go so long without them?? Of course my hearing has always sucked so this began my solid dislike for phone conversation. I heard about 25% accurately and either guessed or asked for repeats the rest of the time. Annoying as hell. But oh how much more convenient!!!

Next was texting…if you were a texter way back in the beginning you know you had to REALLY WANT to say something to someone to do it. Texting on the old keyboard phones was about as easy as quantum physics. It was a quick way to ask a question or respond but it sucked for conversation. This was the beginning of my separation from face to face speaking. I hated to make a call but I could painstakingly text and get a response without actual contact? Sign me up!!! I became a championship texter.

Myspace.I was not all that impressed with it. I didn’t spend a lot of time on it and it really was mostly useless. But then Facebook came out. Admittedly when I graduated high school I never looked back. I was not a huge fan of most of the people I went with so leaving them behind was easy. Than Facebook came along and there were all the people you thought you would never have to see again. On the plus side it is a great way to find people that you wished you had kept in your life. It’s also great to keep in touch with friends and family that are spread all over the world. The downside is everyone all over the world being able to fine YOU. We all have witnessed it’s progression over the years. It started as a fun way to communicate and keep in touch. These days it’s a place to air your dirty laundry and argue with strangers over things you would not normally even bother to discuss. It went from a fun forum to a place where everyone is offended by everything g all the time. People argue and get nasty with others when I’m person they would never cross the line. People talk openly about very personal situations that quite frankly the rest of us don’t want to or need to know about. And everyone is one last straw from losing their minds over topics they would not usually even think about. Cell phones became a burden rather than a convenience. It went from being thankful for having something to easily contact another if needs to a tether to people. You get calls and texts and messages and emails. Tweets, Instagram, posts…a constant barrage of communication at all times whether you want it or not.

Technology has made amazing advances. In its wake I have evolved from being shy to running the full gambit of communication to wanting to go back to the way the world was before we knew everything everyone was doing, saying, eating, sleeping with, talking to, hanging out with, seeing, wanting….etc. We are buried in such an enormous amount of communication and information every day I long for silence and quiet. I am just not that interesting of a person to need or want to talk to everyone in my life every day about everything. I am quite sure the world is not hanging waiting to see what I ate, watched, did all day every day and I do not have the energy to fill everyone in. It’s all too much.

The end result, at least for me, is that I am back to the little girl that didn’t speak unless spoken to or avoids conversations instead of jumping to engage in them. I feel like the world is so noisy already I would rather not discuss anything at length. I do not need to talk to you every single day to assure you We are still friends and I still like you. I can go days without talking to someone and when we do catch up have nothing really all that new to tell you. Basically I have become the worlds most extroverted introvert. I will talk a lot but I won’t be happy about it.

I am fully aware that this personality is annoying and frustrating to others. With all the different ways to communicate all day every day why am I so quiet? Why don’t you want to discuss everything every day all day? Just know…it’s not you personally. The world is just way too noisy now. People are way too volatile and wanting to start a fight. I can like you but not be interested in what you ate today. It’s ok.

I am a simple girl with simple pleasures. If you don’t hear from me it’s simply because I am taking a communication break. I have spent a lifetime evolving through my communication skills and some days no communication is best.

Unplug, walk away from the argument, turn off YouTube, enjoy your food instead of taking a million pictures of it, take some time to breathe and live life electronic free. It’s ok if you don’t hear from me today…absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Time passes…

It all started when a woman met a guy she fell in love with. Wanted to have a life with. They got married. Seemingly normal? This woman had what’s called Multiple Sclerosis. She was diagnosed as a teen but after a terrible onset, went into remission. Let’s take a moment to remember that this was the 60’s and not much was known about the disease. After getting pregnant with a baby girl she came out of remission. She had this baby girl and was already showing signs of weakness. Her husband, being the man he is, left without looking back. A new baby and a sick wife was too much for him. 

Here is a young woman…just twenty years old…with a tiny little baby completely dependent on her. Life happens really fast and almost always when we least expect it. This woman kept that baby and decided she would make the best life possible for both of them. 

Time passed… That woman…try as she might…continued to deteriorate very quickly. Walking soon became impossible. That little girl soon learned how to do many things around the house. Dishes, laundry, cleaning and vacuuming, washing windows, all the physical things that mom could no longer do. The difference between this little girl and her mom and other little girls and their moms was the love they shared. It was more than a love between a mother and child. That woman was that child’s total life in every way and it was good. That child helped that mother because there was no other way. She wanted no other way. They were one. 

Time passed.  That little girl grew up responsible for the care of that mother. Cooking , cleaning, feeding her, bathing her, dressing her. They played records and sang together. They watched movies and cried together. They played games and had secret names for each other. The girl had friends from when she was a baby. Those friends loved that mother as well. They came to sit with her and talk to her. To listen to music or watch movies with her. It was a family of mismatched friends and family but it was the most loving house around. 

Time passed. The little girl is growing up. Wants to go to school to be something some day. Afraid to leave that mother for too long with anyone else. They don’t understand her! They don’t know how she want a her tea! That she prefers Bon Jovi while getting cleaned up. They won’t know!!! That little girl struggles for years with who she wants to be and who she needs to be. Life decisions are changed for fear of losing that mother. That little girl will never regret the decisions she made it the time she had with that mother because it made her who she is today. That mother had more love and compassion in her deteriorating sick body than anyone that little girl will ever meet again. 

Time passed…that mother fought hard. She never gave up. Years of pain and sadness. Years of having to depend on others to eat..to bathe..to have a drink. She endured all the pain and heartache. Longer than anyone should have to. That mother fought to be alive for that little girl whose entire life was that mother. Not in a bad way. That mother taught that little girl the depths of compassion. How you can love but also be strong and hard when you need to be. That the love between two people does not end when one is gone. It burns hot and bright in the heart of that living little girl forever. That mother died when her little girl said to her that although she will not have that mother here to share her life with her on earth…she will always have her words, her compassion, her love to carry in her own heart. That she would be lonely and missing a piece of herself but that the mother has suffered long enough and now it was time to be free and let the little girl use the guide that mother lovingly provided.

Time passed. That little girl was a woman. Young and scared and alone. No dad, no brothers or sisters. She had some amazing friendships but she was still alone. That little girl learned many life lessons. She spent some time homeless. She got back on her feet and started to build a life. She married someone not meant for her. He was a bad man and hurt her. She made it out a little more broken. She went to school to be someone that mother could be proud of. Worked jobs that she may not be proud of but needed to survive. She made a lot of mistakes. Life is forever teaching you if you pay close enough attention. She eventually landed on solid ground and could see a future.

Time passed. She me a man who became her best friend. This girl was not looking for marriage or a relationship. She was always busy….working and going to school. Making a life. No time for marriage no desire for it. Working and working and studying and making mistakes. 

Time passed. That girl and her friend fell into a relationship. Time showed them that they were good together and for each other. It was not perfect. They broke up. They fought. In the end being  together was what made them both the happiest. They would join forces and make a life. And they did. 

Time passed. That couple were blessed with a beautiful healthy baby boy. Only one child. The girl could not ever have another. Their boy was everything in the world they could have wished for. One perfect amazing smart loving beautiful baby boy. They were happy. Life seemed normal and happy and amazing.

Time passed. That girl got sick. It came out of nowhere. They could not figure it out. They tested her for months. They braced themselves for the worst. That man promised to stay with her and live with whatever came their way. Eventually they discovered what was wrong. It was debilitating and not curable. It could get worse over time. It caused many other health problems for the girl but…she was alive. That girl and that boy had a life to build with their amazing little boy and they did.

Time passed. That girl and that boy are still building that life. It has been twenty years they have been together. Life has not always been joyous and happy. Life has been quite difficult at times. So much stress on that boy trying to make a happy life for that girl and their baby boy. Too much pressure and stress on him. Many boys would have stopped. Many boys would have left. Not this boy. He wants this life with this girl and is willing to fight for it. That girl? She is not easy to love. She has many medical problems. Mental problems. There are days when she is just a mess. Her core never changes. Her heart never changes. She loves deeply. She wants to help the people she loves even when she can’t help herself. She gets hurt by people she loves because even now she has trouble seeing the bad in people. Her mothers love runs through her all the time. She wants to help everyone be happy even when she can’t seem to do it for herself. She is broken. She is physically unable to live a normal life. She is mentally broken and has trouble wanting to live any life. She is still one of the luckiest people around. She has a man who has given his life to her and carries her when she needs it. Drags her when she is stubborn. Walks with her when she is happy. He said he would stay by her side and he is. It’s not easy for this man. His life is stressful. But his love for this girl and their baby boy is enough to fuel him. Their baby boy (not such a baby anymore much to the girls distress) is a gift. He is a boy and he has his moments but this little boy loves his mom and dad so much it shows in everything he does. He is compassionate and loving. Forgiving and strong. Fun and amusing. He will give his only sandwich to a stranger that is starving. He empathizes and wants to help those that need it. He has the heart of that little girls mom. The woman that gave everything she was for her little girl. He is a beautiful soul and the girl and the boy are blessed they have him.

Why did I write this story? Mostly for myself. Sometimes you sit back and say “I have been though a lot of shit” but you don’t understand how or why? The truth is life is hard. It’s the longest hardest thing you will ever do. Your life is what you make of it. Yes there are roadblocks and disappointments and loss and heartache but how you deal with them….what you make of them is what your life is. You can wallow and cry and beg for understanding or you can deal with it as best you could and live. You can choose to be the best you possible. You can live your life being the type of person you always want to be around. You choose life. And whatever happens you live it. No one chooses a hard heartache and sadness life. They choose to live and make it what they can to be happy. 

Time will always pass. Shit will happen. You will need to look inside yourself to get through it. Hopefully you will be blessed with people who love you and support you. They are not there to live for you. They are there to enhance the life you live. Keep your support group close and choose life. It’s not always going to be that hard.

Romance can be funny!

 
I am doing something a little different this time in my blog. I am taking the time to introduce a very funny and fun author to you. You will not be disappointed!I am a voracious reader. I typically stay away from romance novels and books where I will end up crying my way through. What I do is flip around through genres. My favorites are detective series, horror, suspense, serial killers, and…..oh wait you really don’t care about all that…. I digress.

A few years ago I decided to read some comedy. I could use some laughter in my life and there are thousands of books out there that could help. I stumbled upon a book titled “Things Go Wrong For Me” by Rodney Lacroix. I hated it. Utter drivel!!!! I will never get the time I spent reading that crap back!              I kid I kid!!! I loved it. I laughed out loud. I giggled and snorted so much to the my husband asked me what in the sweet hell I was reading?

This was Rod’s first book, so once I finished it I had the familiar sadness of completing a book I really enjoyed and didn’t have a follow up. What I did do is notice that he lives relatively local to me. A state or two north but in this area literally only hours away. I found him on Facebook (in my best stalker ways) and we became friends. After a short time I also became friends with his beautiful (at the time) fiancé Kerri. I found they are very kind and sweet people. I am happy to have them in my life. They are also weird which makes them my cool friends.

Some time passed and another book was written by Rodney. This one “Perhaps I’ve Said Too Much” was equally funny and cringy. You cannot beat laughing hysterically while cringing the entire time. Rodney is not shy and not afraid to poke fun at his easiest target…himself. His other targets…his children…are very funny and certainly characters. They have some of their fathers sense of humor which may or may not benefit them in the future. I say if you can make me laugh you are always a friend!

That is basically the back story of how I happened upon and became a fan of Mr. Lacroix. His books reveal a lot about the man writing them. Aside from funny they are real. He has a way of projecting the emotion in the book to you so that you experience it. 

This of course brings me to his latest release. Book number three was released a short week ago! His brand new book “Romantic As Hell” is not your every day guide book. Where it does provide some pretty good information about how to make your loved one feel special and sexy and wonderful….it also provides plenty of examples of what NOT to do. I will not be quoting directly or writing extensively about the contents because that is for you to find out. To appreciate the author and his talent for spinning a tale you must buy the book and enjoy it for yourself. That is part of the fun. I will give you a few topics covered such as:

• Purchasing gifts
• That special come hither look
• Proposing
• Dealing with animals and kids

And many many more. 

The bottom line is this…if you enjoy a good comedic read. If you like to have fun with a book. If you seriously need some romantic pointers. If you just want to totally feel better about your own romantic capabilities. If you want to read something that is simply just enjoyable cover to cover. 

READ THIS BOOK!

Aside from being a friend I am a super fan and say with honesty that I picked up his first book not knowing him at all. Reading it made me want to know the author better. I love having funny people in my life. 

So get out there and purchase a copy and get reading. You won’t be disappointed. 

A link to the book: http://get book.at/RomanticAsHell

You’re welcome! And stay tuned for my upcoming blog “Kidney Stones…the never ending horror…”

  

Animals

For those that know me it’s not a big surprise that I am writing about animals. I love them. I would love to be able to open a foster home for them. I have always had something that I could torture with my love since I was a baby. They just make me happy.

When I was a baby, my mother and grandmother got me a collie. My grandmother named her Dutchess. I am pretty sure my grandmother loved the dog way more than me but that’s ok. She was much smarter than I was at the time and she was housebroken, she was certainly a great member of the family. She spent her days following me around and trying to keep me out of trouble. My mother could tell her to “go get Tina” and she would come trotting up and yank on my sleeve to tell me it’s time to go home. I am pretty sure if I ever fell in the well she would have alerted the authorities for me. She didn’t stop me from getting my head stuck between two banisters at my friend’s house though. Probably because she was outside. The look of embarrassment on her furry face told the whole story. 

Dutchess was a chaser and got into some trouble a few times trying to herd cars. Over the years she had to have her hip replaced and her knuckles in her paws replaced. The instinct to chase and try to herd cars was too much. Otherwise she was quite honestly the perfect dog. She went with me everywhere. She watched out for me. She loved me and I loved her back. We finally had to put her down when I was about 14. The arthritis and other medical issues were too much and keeping her with us was selfish. Dutchess was quite honestly the smartest animal I have ever owned. I didn’t give up trying to find another…but man did I have some silly animals after.

I have always had a cat. Sometimes more than one (like now…we have four). My most memorable cat was Fred 1.0 when I was a teenager. An orange tabby with a crooked tail and an attitude. Fred was quite simply my baby. He only allowed me to pet him. He only slept with me. I was his. I would lay on my bed and he would lay across my neck and sleep. He snored. He drooled. It would be 95 degrees and he insisted on laying across my neck no matter what. We were best friends. He was an indoor/outdoor cat so there would sometimes be days he would be gone. I would come home to find him waiting on my bed for me. Sometimes with new scars or a piece of his ear missing. He was a toughie but with me, as soon as he saw me, he would purr and roll around and wait to be cuddled and loved. One day I came home to find him really beat up. He apparently met up with an opponent that gave him a run for his money. It was an emergency vet visit and many stitches later before he came home again. He would look into my face with such love…I would do anything for that furry guy. Of all the kitties I have ever had the pleasure of sharing my home with he was my favorite. He just loved me. Unconditionally and eternally. When he passed I was not sure I could ever have another animal.

These days we have quite a brood. I often refer to them as the furry assholes of the house. Do not get me wrong…I love all of them…but I if at least one does not try to kill me once a day I am shocked. They keep me on my toes and their intelligence is questionable.

We got Robin the Wonder Dog when my son was three. Doctors said no more kids for me. My son was an only child and I was sad because I wanted him to have a sibling. My husband Steve did not want to get a dog. I talked him into it. A boy should have a dog! They will be lifelong friends! It will be great! Robin came to us on a cold night in February 2006. A little ball of fur. He is a Boston Terrier. I was in love. So was the boy…who took to “reading ” books to the dog while the puppy snored in his lap. It was perfect! One night during puppy training I was not paying attention to where Robin was. (Side note…we let the boy name the dog. He wanted to name him Batman and we said that was too long. He said Spider-Man dog! No sweetie something simple. We ran the gambit of superheroes and finally settled on Robin, Batmans loyal sidekick) I noticed the dog was not sniffing around and asked the boy where he was? “I don’t know mama?” My sweet little man with huge brown eyes said to me. Than I heard it…the distinct sound of dog eating. Backstory…when we bought the house we had mice. I bought poison and put it everywhere my son could not get to. We had this enormous couch and I hid a small box of poison in the center behind the couch. My son could never get back there but a two pound Boston Terrier could! Holy f*ck the dogs eating the poison. With ridiculous strength I fling the couch to find our puppy, the one we have had for only two weeks, with his head buried in mouse poison. I am killing the puppy after only two weeks. The good news is…I found an emergency vet who saved the dog for a scant $350 and sent us on our way having to shove pills down his tiny throat twice a day for the next two months. That was almost ten years ago. Since then, Robin has managed to get a matchbox car wedged in his throat and multiple other brushes with death. I am honestly amazed he had made it this far. He is a good dog though and a member of this family. The only male that still gets so excited when he sees me he sometimes pees. As it should be. 

In 2012 my son wanted to volunteer at an animal shelter. He really wanted to spend time helping animals. It was so sweet I really wanted to help him achieve this. Unfortunately our town had an accident involving a class of young children on a field trip to the local SPCA and a litter of Raccoons that were saved. Apparently the raccoons were not tested for rabies prior to letting the children feed, hold, and cuddle the little balls of anger. This resulted in a series of rabies shots for all the kids that had physical contact with the raccoons and a rule that no child under the age of 18 being allowed to volunteer in any rescue. We were bummed. I finally found a non profit cat rescue run by, what I found out later, a fricking lunatic, that said we could help with adoptions and so forth. Joy!! Every Sunday we donated our time to try to adopt out cats and kittens that came into her and her foster people’s lives. It was great! The boy was fantastic with the people and even the miserable old ladies that were fostering the cats. Than one day the woman who ran the circus called and asked if we could foster a mother cat and four kittens. They had nowhere to go. We would be saving their lives. After much negotiations Steve agreed to let us but we agreed we would not be keeping these cats. We were fostering them and letting the boy learn from the experience. We got them and the babies were three days old. Their mom…despite hating our dog with the heat of a thousand suns, was so sweet and lovable with us from the first day. One kitten died and I still have trouble discussing it. It was awful. The other three thrived. Two girls and one boy. The boy was twice as big as the girls. Steve was in love. He started calling him Slagathor and cuddled and played with him every night. As time passed and the kittens were weened we had to give mom to another foster home. She could not get past her hatred for Robin and he was taking a beating. We hated to give her away but it was unfair to lock her away or lock the dog away. Steve came to me and said that after a lot of thinking he wanted us to adopt Slagathor. I came back saying I wanted to keep two of them. I wanted them to have one another. He said he would think about it…which took all of four seconds. So now we were going to adopt two of the kittens Slagathor and Suki. I spoke to the woman and she arranged the paperwork. When it came time to sign everything and hand over the third kitten for adoption I said “it sure is going to be hard giving her away….they are a family”  Steve in his most manliest voice said “wellllll what’s the difference between two cats and three cats really?” And boom….Katniss became our third kitten baby. Thank goodness the litter was not bigger.

Last year I started to get itchy for an orange kitten like my Fred. I have always wanted another orange tabby. The kittens we adopted are beautiful and we love them but they are not orange. I mentioned it to Steve who promptly told me no….we have enough fur in this house. He is right I said. We really do. Than I went to th SPCA. As I was walking through this tiny little furball reached through the cage and meowed SO LOUD. He was this teensy ball of orange fur. Maybe I will just hold him? They let me hold him and he crawled into the crook of my neck and went to sleep. Needless to say….a few hours later I was introducing Fred 2.0 to our current brood. Steve did not speak to me for three days. He was angry. He had a right to be angry. Fred decided that Steve was the most comfortable spot in the house and slept on him as often as he could. Steve eventually forgave me. Fred is a troublemaker. He is adorable and has long fur and a bad attitude but he is a member of this family now and we love him.

The best thing about animals is they love you no matter what. If you feed them and love them and treat them with care they will give you all the love they are capable of forever. Animals don’t judge you. They don’t intentionally break your heart. They often try to do their best to comfort you when you are sad. I have always felt that an animal in the home makes it a home. They may sometimes be the only thing that is ecstatically happy to see you. They want to please you. There are definitely times when they try to kill you (Suki I’m looking at you) but I truly believe that nothing will love you and be as loyal to you than your furry family. Even when I am asleep and my largest most gluttonous kitten hops on my bed and gnaws on my feet for me to feed her even though she could skip a meal or six….

The moral of this blog post is I love animals…I love them and I want to always have them around me so I can force cuddle them and make them squeal and struggle to break free as I kiss them and hug them and call them George. 

It’s probably a sickness but I don’t want the cure!

Love your furbabies…all they want is to be cared for and loved.

  

Friends…

Making friends…is it hard for you? Easy for you? Either way it changes as you get older. 

As a child I was shy. Those who know me now and didn’t “way back in the day” would probably find that hard to believe but it’s true! I was very shy and not very outgoing. The best part was I grew up in a small neighborhood with other families that had children around my age. When you know someone since you learn to talk it’s easier to be comfortable and yourself around them. 

Kids have the right idea about friendship. Find people that like to do the things you like to do. If they are mean to you, you don’t have to be friends with them anymore. Or you beat each other up and tomorrow get over it. It’s simple…if someone is a jerk…you fix it and get over it. If fixing it means not hanging with them anymore? Than boom…it’s fixed. I have no idea how many times as kids we messed with each other? One day everyone would be great. The next day someone does something stupid and we fight. We WILL NEVER BE FRIENDS AGAIN!! The next day you miss each other and you make up. Your truest friends always forgive you for being dumb. They will always have your back when someone from the outside is threatening you. They sleep over your house and play on the same teams as you and love you like you are part of the family. 

If you are lucky like I was, you had childhood and neighborhood friends already when you got into high school. I was at a weird age where my closest friends were a little older or a little younger. This meant meeting new people. There were some kids that I had sort of friendships all through school. Not close but enough to have someone to talk to in the lunch room. I used to have a terrible time making friends. In high school it was what you wore, where you grew up, or your extra curricular activities that dropped you in your group. I was poor. I grew up with my friends but they were in different grades (age). I was not a real go getter. My first year of high school was me being ignored or tortured. Not the best time for a chunky Italian girl. By the next year I started to fill out. I became more aware of myself. I also decided that I didn’t care if I had friends in school. I had my best friends in my neighborhood. It’s amazing that when you don’t care you are suddenly noticed. Well that and boobs…

At this point in my life I began to pick and choose my people. My core group…my close circle…always remained the same. Now I was able to make other friends too. I also discovered that there are levels of friendship. Not everyone is in your circle. Some are people you are nice to because you are thrown together. Some because they are nice people but not anyone you would spend time with outside of school. And the list goes on. I made some pretty great friends I had all through school. They were the ones that wrote “stay in touch” and “friends 4 eva ” in your yearbook. You went to proms together and did things together outside of high school. The truth about me? I liked these people. Maybe if we had Facebook and cell phones back then I might have been “friends 4 eva ” but we didn’t and we weren’t. They were not my inner circle people. School ended and I moved out of town and forgot them. Life went on and I made new friends.

College…work…they are all extensions of High School when it comes to friendship. You like some people, you dislike some people. Some become close enough where you may spend time outside of wherever it is you do with them. You share a little bit of your real life. Again…the levels of friendship are there. Maybe…maybe if you are super lucky…you make one or two core friends. They become a part of your life circle and you don’t picture your life without them. Again…when you move on ….you make promises no one keeps to “stay in touch” and “get together soon!” But mostly the only thing you had in common was what you were doing. School? Work? Hobby? It doesn’t mean they were not good people…they were temporarily a part of you. 

Getting married…having kids. This always changes your dynamic. Anyone who thinks that nothing changes once you have children is mistaken. Your core group…your lifetime circle almost always remains the same. Regardless if they are doing the same life things as you, your true people are there. But now…your life and your priorities change. You start to attract and become drawn to like minded people. I really feel like this is the time you revert back to the way you were as a kid. Not shy or quiet but you seek out people that like to do the things you do. You become pickier with your people because you have less time to be yourself. You are a spouse? A parent? Your priorities shift. You want to enjoy your time more and refuse to spend time with people who will waste your precious time making you unhappy. It’s no longer about fitting in or having people around you for support. It’s about enjoying your life and your people. Again however…if you are lucky…your circle remains tight and protected. You may have added more people to it but it’s precious and yours. You find that just spending time with people in general is not what you want…you want YOUR people. You miss them more. You love them always. You will do anything for them. I was told once that the amount of true friends you have you can count on one hand and may have fingers left over. That’s ok…because they are true. 

Facebook put a strange spin on the friendship dynamic. Suddenly you are supposed to have all these new friends that you share your life with. Some “old” friends may have found you and sparked a new friendship. I have always been a Facebook advocate. I am able to keep in touch with people from all over just by posting pictures and statuses etc. How fun! Our children will never understand how you can just lose contact with a person. What a great concept!

This blogger learned the hard way that all that convenience was not that amazing. The old days we had our friends and when there was a problem…we handled it. It might have ended with some bumps and bruises but we solved it. Social media has become more of an arena than a way to stay in touch. You get out what you put in. You allow yourself to be affected or not. The problems begin when you forget what you knew as a child…what the basics of a true friendship is. Rarely is a persons life exactly as its portrayed in social media. This is a public forum where people express what they want. It is also very simple for others to be mean and hurtful. Exchanges are for the world to see. You feel much safer bludgeoning someone with words on a screen than you would in person. You make “friends” or so it seems. Addmittedly I have made some very nice friends that I have never been able to meet in person. We comfort each other. We cheer on each other. We make each other laugh. It’s good. I have also become friends with people that because you never met have turned out to be less than appealing. They easily turned from friend to enemy because of something I said or didn’t say. Because I liked something they did not…or someone they did not. I have had some people become nasty and threatening. People who have tried to hurt me or my family through harsh words and ugly rumors. All because of social media. Because I forgot the golden rule of friendships and the different levels of friendship. Because I tried to be the college or working girl and be everyone’s buddy. 

I recently had a bad experience with a person who was part friend from my past and part reconnect on Facebook. I had allowed myself to become a Facebook groupie and visited and posted often. I like to keep things light and humorous for the most part. Again…it does not reflect everything in my life. The bad experience reminded me of the beliefs I have had all my life regarding my friends. It brought my circle closer and tighter and reminded me how lucky I am to have the small tight circle of people I have. I decided to take mini vacation from social media. Find my core, find my peace, go old school and talk to my people instead of living through the public. It has been the best thing I have done for myself in a while. 

Whether you had trouble making friends or it was easy for you…you should take the time to touch base with your circle of friends. I don’t think there is ever a time when we stops making friends. I firmly believe that we always cycle through others lives as they cycle through ours. But the people that you would do anything for. The ones that would do anything for you. They are a part of you and you can’t imagine your life without them. You love them and need them. Sometimes it’s time to go old school a little and give your people some love…you will be glad you did.

What happens to us when we die? (Literally not spiritually)

First off I shall apologize for being quiet for a time. Life had decided to give me a bit of a beat down lately. I have not been in the expressive mood. But here I am again!!! I am pausing dramatically for all the relieved sighs *pauses*

So…this weeks thoughts are on what happens to us when we die? I mean to ask this in the literal sense. Different religions will tell you what happens to your “spirit”. The inside identifier that makes you…well YOU. I don’t discuss politics or religion with anyone. There is never a good ending in either conversation. I do not take sides…I am always interested to listen to someone explain their beliefs. I am a believer in my own faith. I do not preach…I do not poo poo anyone else’s religion. It is private and important to you. I will say I do not encourage YOU to preach and bang a tambourine to attract followers. Just like bumper stickers do not change my views about anything ….neither will your preaching. But….I digress. 

Back on topic….so what happens to us when we are no longer “in this world”? I recently read a book ” Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory” Book by Caitlin Doughty. Firstly…it is highly recommended if you have ever thought about what happens in a real crematorium. Also, if you happen to enjoy dark humor. The book itself is a true account and is witty and very informational. It is also a little creepy and dark. If that kind of stuff freaks you out then I suggest you read something more like…well whatever floats your boat. I am not going to simply retell her story. It is Caitlin’s to tell and she should get the royalties from your purchasing the book. What it did was really make me think about the whole process. What has happened in my past. What I don’t want my family to go through…

Twenty three years ago I buried my mother. She was a mere forty-two at the time. I am an only child and no father around. I had the help of a couple of family members to help with the arrangements however the whole process was horrifying. We should have had the entire thing set up prior. It’s not as if we had thought my mother would live forever. Quite the contrary, she was a very sick woman. We just were not smart. So here is a twenty two year old only child (me) at the funeral parlor with her guilt stricken uncle (he had many reasons to feel like an ass…mostly because he was) , my aunt, and two of her sons (my closest male relatives…they were like brothers to me). It’s the day after my sick mother dies and we must pick out all the different arrangments. Music, flowers, accessories. This is exactly what every funeral parlor foams at the mouth for. Devestated guilt ridden family members to make arrangements. My male cousins were picking up and putting down empty coffins to “get the feel” since they would be part of the pall bearers. They were freaking and could not settle down. My uncle wanted everything top of the line to soothe his guilt of never being around to help. Then they are asking my opinion on color of the casket, the lining, the pillow. Should it be cushioned? Waterproof? Should we spend an extra few thousand on the lining of the hole to keep water out for a little while? At the time these seem like all reasonable questions. Of course we want the fancy casket with all the brass work! She was a wonderful woman! Yes she needs the softest satin available and should be laying in cushioned pillowed comfort. No we don’t want water seeping in the hole in the ground!!! We NEED that liner for thousands that will work probably through one winter. This is what grieving families do. They try to soothe their grief by making the arrangements ridiculous. They insisted on burying my mother in a dress. The woman didn’t wear dresses. It was awkward for me to see it. It was wrong. All of it was wrong. It was what was expected not what was wanted.

Now here is the harsh reality. We are all going to die. There is no escaping it. When we die our bodies are worthless unless you donate yourself to science. Whatever parts they don’t use will get cremated and labeled and left somewhere. Your body may help someone ? Did you donate organs? Are they good enough for transplant? Then your death may benefit someone else. I always encourage people to be organ donors. You don’t need the parts anymore might as well let someone use them that can use them? Not into donations? What about cremation? It’s not as if this is the 18th century and they might make a mistake about you being dead. We are running out of space for burying the massive amounts of people dying. The elaborate caskets and arrangements take up space. They are going to have to start burying people deeper so they can pile your loved ones or strangers on top of you simply because there is no room! Whatever you believe….most of us can agree that the essence of ourselves is gone once we die. Who cares what you do with my body?

I personally have decided that I am pretty much useless once I am dead. I have a plethora of health issues. I am listed as an organ donor but I am pretty sure taking my parts will end up worse then the people a bunch of years back that got rabies from the donated organs. You just don’t want my shit. Trust me. I used to say I wanted to be cremated. Then I could be sprinkled anywhere. Then I saw the coolest idea. They have these pods that have tree seeds in them and starter soil. Your ashes are added and the whole thing is biodegradable! You just find a place to plant it and boom! A tree grows. What a cool idea with no last minute crazy amounts of guilt money being blown on a huge amount of unnecessary items. I am going to share this with my family! They will love that I am being so forward and environmentally thoughtful!

The conversation started ok. I sat with my husband Steve and my son Austin. I first told them the gist of the book I read and what I learned from past experience. I told them about my mom and how it was so difficult to make these decisions after she passed. Then I brought in my pod idea. No muss no fuss! No one has to keep me on their mantle! I could arrange to have a little bit of my ashes put in a necklace or something if they felt like carrying me around…otherwise dig a hole and boom! My son had the hardest time. First why are we talking about it? Well I just think that it’s better to be prepared ? “Where exactly am I supposed to bury you ? In my backyard? Oh look that is the creepy mom tree she grew into! Oh and what if I move? Do I leave my dead mother tree or do I dig it up and take it with me?” I tried to explain it would not grow into a tree version of me but he was not having it. Does he want a necklace or something with my ashes to carry around. His grimace spoke volumes. I am guessing an urn on the mantle with Googly eyes on it won’t fly either. My husband sort of sighed and agreed that it was a weird and creepy conversation to have and that he did not want to be responsible for my final resting place either. 

Another idea is to send the ashes to be heated and combined in glass. The glass is heated at s much height temperature then the ashes.  They can be seamlessly combined and colored to make ornaments and globes. Paper weights! Light catchers! Some of the artwork is amazing. Then you have this beautiful piece of art that just happens to be made of your loved one. So cool right? No one seems to think so but me. Where are those important papers? Oh look under mom paperweight! The light prism shines so beautifully though moms light catcher!

So I guess the moral of this blog is death is hard. Even when it’s staring us in the face it’s hard to deal with. People don’t like to discuss making arrangements. It’s easier to not think. The truth is funerals are money suckers for the grieving. It’s a better idea to have something in place. Regardless of what you choose make it easier on your loved ones and have something paid and ready. Also…if anyone out there wants to bury me somewhere or maybe wants a cool paperweight of me let me know…I am taking applications. 

Resting bitch face? Me?

I fear it might be true….*gasps audibly* I have what is often referred to as resting bitch face. For those of you that don’t know what that means, the urban dictionary defines it as “a person, usually a girl, who naturally looks mean when her face is expressionless, without meaning to.” Meaning just casually sitting…maybe thinking about kittens and butterflies…I might look like I might cut a bitch. This is not news to me. I have been told this on a couple of occasions. Previously, not by someone I particularly cared for, so I ignored it. But it has recently been reconfirmed.

It wasn’t always this way. I swear. In fact up until a certain point in my life I was super shy and did my best to fade into the background. I was not one to put myself out to be noticed and certainly not as anything but a kind person. In Kindergarten we had a graduation at the end of the year. Much like they do for all kindergarten children. I remember (because I was scarred from it) they wanted us to all stand in a group with our little hats and diplomas in front of ALLLLL the relatives and people in attendance and sing. I do not remember what song. It was likely something simple and not the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack but the thought of having to be in front of all those people??? Singing???? Are you out of your FRICKING mind? They lined us all up and I burst into uncontrollable sobs. So much so they finally just let me sit with my mom and hide as best as possible until it was all over. Does this sound like a bitch to you?

I was not shy with my family. In fact we were all pretty animated and outspoken. As a tot I watched the old Lawrence Welk entertainment hour shows. Imitating the ballroom dancers was a personal favorite of mine. So much so my Nana actually made me my own tiny full skirts so I could dance and sing to my hearts content. There was rarely a photo I shied away from and was more of a ham then William Shatner on his best day. I still look back at the choppy jerky movement Super 8 videos they took and go hysterical. I thought I was destined for fame. The second anyone outside of my little safe bubble entered however I was a ghost. Much like the dancing and singing frog from the Bugs Bunny cartoons. Really she talks!!! She does!!!!! *ribbit*
As I got older I had my awesome neighborhood friends. We did everything together. We were all around the same age and as we went to high school (ours started at 8th grade back then) we were in different grades and classes but all managed to still see each other and hang around each other enough where I didn’t have to break out of my natural shyness. Still hiding in the shadows and behind everyone else. I remember there was a boy in my freshman year that asked me to be his boyfriend. He was a boy that hung around with other boys that were, in my eyes, sort of bad news. They had bully tendencies and we’re just not very nice people. That plus the thought of having an actual boyfriend horrified me and I said no. I remember clearly walking down the hallway to my next class and this boy coming in the opposite direction. Halls cramped with kids changing classes I had to pass by him. He was still a little angry over the rejection and as he passed me called me a “bitch” and punched my purse. He hit it so hard it spun in a perfect arch around my arm through the air and back to my side. I still giggle thinking about it. I don’t know how it did not smack someone in the head but it spun in a perfect circle around my arm and back. And hang on a second dude…did you just call me a bitch? What? I don’t think I had the capability at the time to cultivate an actual bitchy thought. Wtf? Then, I was shocked…today I still think it’s one of the weirdest yet funniest things ever. I think this is the point where my attitude towards people began to shift. Why am I so shy? Why am I hiding in plain sight? These people are as weird as I am….

As I got older in started to feel a little less shy. I started to join clubs at school and feel more comfortable in my skin. I joined chorus which was perfect for me. Singing then and now has always been a source of happiness for me. I never felt brave enough to be in any of the drama club production numbers but I did compete competitively in a Chamber Choir which for me was a big deal. I started to gain confidence. Around this time is when I, seemingly overnight, developed huge boobs as well. I also had a penchant for working out and the combo served me well. Amazing how a DD cup at an age when most of the girls are still in training bras changes your popularity.
Even though I seemed to have an abundance of new “friends” I never belonged to a particular clique. I never labeled myself or anyone else. If I liked you I liked you. What group you belonged to had little to do with it. I am pretty sure this is where my true bitchiness began. I had very little tolerance for anyone that maliciously tried to make anyone else feel bad. I never could understand what made these people feel as though they had the right to do so? After many years I realized that someone who puts others down is usually extremely insecure themselves. With my age did come wisdom but it also decreased my tolerance for a lot of what high school was.

I was fiercely competitive academically but where I was too shy when I was younger to make friends, as I got older I didn’t make them simply because I didn’t like who these people were. Young minds do not process thoughts like “she is just selective in who she hangs around with because she is a nice person who chooses quality over quantity.” Instead it was more “she is just a stuck up bitch who thinks she is better then everyone.” I didn’t care…I laced that shit up and wore it.
Today? Well I guess I am still mistaken for a stuck up bitch that thinks she is better then everyone. I choose my people very carefully. My closest most respected and trusted people I would do anything for and they are the same with me. I am not unkind to people. I will be friendly with everyone. I just feel there are differences between the people who may stop and chat with if you see them at the supermarket and the people that when you feel your darkest you can reach out to and know they will hold your hand and exist with you. Help you cope by just being there. I know there are times when I am sitting quietly thinking when I probably look like I am plotting something evil. I have never been a smiley Perky Patty type person who smiles and sparkles. I have a tendency to drift out of the present and into my own thoughts when not actively engaged in conversation with someone. I defend my people fiercely and without restraint. I do not and will not tolerate anyone trying to hurt them in any way. That has earned me quite a few nicknames that are not positive but I do not concern myself with that. I do what I want. The end.

So…after reflecting I guess it’s true. I am not sure how I thought I would escape it. I have a family of women who look like they are plotting your untimely demise when in reality they are probably just quietly trying to remember what they walked in the room for. Resting bitch face is a thing…those who really know me understand I am not all that bad. Those who don’t take the wider path around me. Just know…Its very likely I am probably just trying to remember if I took a vitamin this morning….