Tag Archives: growing as human

check in

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I feel like lately I have been asked some strange questions that you don’t get asked before you are 40. I’ve been asked if I’m working out more than before, because you know… Metabolism. I’ve been asked if my husband is okay with the extra pounds that forty gave me. I’ve been asked about potty habits and if I’m sad because I’m too old now… To you know… (Hushed voice) have babies.

First of all, NO, I don’t fucking work out more, I don’t work out at all because frankly, I don’t have time. I actually work. Like a job. You know, that place you go to earn money so you can have a roof over your head, and food on your plate, and blankets on your bed and all the techno gadgets that keep you connected to the people you may not even want to talk to but do anyway because… life! And if you are lucky, you have programmed the gadgets (by you I mean the smart tech peoples) not to tell you what the cheeto said this week that is slowly making you cray-town. Otherwise you may throw said gadget and cause yourself to have to work at said job more than you already do. When I find time to work out, I’ll let someone know, and they will find me on the beach where the cabana boy will be bringing me a series of tasty adult beverages and I will be doing some lifts- of those drinks to my mouth.

Second, I don’t have a fucking husband! I am happily NOT married, for ten years, to an amazing, difficult, handsome, exceedingly intelligent, ridiculously emotionally unkempt, absolutely perfectly imperfect human. He loves me in spite of myself. I love him sometimes to spite myself and other times to keep myself sane because he may be the only reason I am. And (third, if we are counting) he hasn’t pressured me to have crotch fruit. He doesn’t need a fuck trophy to mark the decade he’s put up with my crazy ass. He didn’t ask for one at the 5 year mark even though he may have thought they might be a fun adventure. If he does want a trophy- I will totally allow some breeding with a hot sars stand in. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was handsome. Chicks propo him him on the daily (look at me using current jargon) but he doesn’t even give them a second. He comes home and snuggles up… to his not wife (who doesn’t work out). The not wife who has stayed for ten years of things. The things no one else can know. And that is what matters.

Finally… don’t even fucking start with the potty habits. You have no idea what this bitch has been through. I have been sliced and diced and teased about the the cauliflower and apertures… If you haven’t had your brother and your best girl photo texting you pics of things that may look worse than your ass to make you feel better about the sate of your union, well… you can’t step to potty talk with this bitch. So go get yourself a Squatty Potty and call me when you understand how life changing that shit is (oh, yeah… I said that!).

‘Till we next…

Look a Squirrel

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Sometimes its just like that…

…it takes an innocuous conversation, about a stupid social media post, to let you know you are right about the things you need to change about yourself. Ya know, no big… take that time when you were super antagonistic to a random dude because well… nothing. You have no reason. You just start a conversation and it goes sideways and all negative and it is totally your fault. You were basically a douchebag but um, you called him one and, um, backed it up with claims of righteousness drunken hollow bullshit and wisdom. Not that you saw that at the time. Sort of like most of the things that are wrong with life right? You don’t realize your fault until you do. Suck-it-up buttercup… Sometimes being the bigger person means apologizing in the moment, knowing it’s right, and realizing later just how right it was.

Sometime later, when you sort that out, you get past the moment you’d been in and realize, there is some really cool shit on this ride you’ve created for yourself. It’s ridiculous and intense and scary… and one hairpin can slap you in the face with a reality you didn’t know was coming. And sometimes the goddamned squirrels just show up running in all directions. But, if those fucking squirrels never showed up you would be a completely different human. You wouldn’t have noticed the door to build my own life-land, or the side track to ‘I don’t have to like you because we’re related’ alley – and consequently ‘I appreciate you more as my friend because we’re related and you get me rope bridge’. All these distractions, negative or not, have helped you become a much happier, more calm person. Having a squirrel scream past and remind you that you are not the hottest shit to walk the earth is actually a good thing. No one should have an ego bigger than the check their ass can cash. We need to check ourselves or be checked on occasion. It’s good to remember that what is directly in front of us is not the only thing there is. Knowing there is a way to release the inherent negativity by being taken down to a level where you have to look up… is freeing.

letters unsent

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Part of our jobs as humans is to evolve.. I know, fucking shocker, right?! Well, there may be humans that think think “devolve”… but whatever. They can stew in their ignorance while the rest of us move forward with vengeance. Or something like it. Right now I’m thinking less of those things than of the evolution of self; how hard I have personally worked to evolve. So many turns, to take me from child to now. The labels are ridiculous. But that can be mother post… Tonight is a letter unsent. Because sometimes you need to tell peeps why for real, not for fakes…

I asked a family member if they would like to see a cover band at a local venue. I heard about the show and asked the same day. Covers of their favorite band. Now… I have built solid boundaries and put space between myself and the negativity that was my family life. But every once and a while….. this shit happens…

………………

Saw this show, thought of you. Would you like to go?

Are you wanting to go. Hub says it sounds great. I don’t have money for tickets. Waiting on tax return.

Would love to go but you all ready spend way too much money on us. I appreciate it but please save your money. I love you for thinking about us but please dont

Um, It seems silly that you and your hub want to go but are arguing dollars. Does the show sound awesome?? Because your husband wants to go, you love the band being covered, and I’d like to do this. So… How about you call it happy birthday.

………………

Here’s the part where I get frustrated and it becomes the unsent… because that was reallllllly nice.

Honestly, your false concern for my finances is tiring. You consistently complain about the ways you are “broke” or “behind” or “can’t afford” something. But you are being freely offered a gift and you say no, in a backhandedly nice way. Don’t do that. It’s like refusing a compliment you deserve. What concern is it of yours what I can afford to do?? It’s $50. You are acting like I spend thousands of dollars on you to make yourself a martyr. Save your concern for yourself and the ways you need to improve your own situation. If I would like to spend money I have worked hard to earn, on someone, anyone for that matter, it is up to me. If I offer something and you would like to do it… the expected, no, not expected, the polite response (the one ANYONE else would give) is ‘that sounds awesome! We would love that!’.

So… does that sound awesome?? Because your husband thinks so. He wants to go, you love the band being covered, and I’d like to do this. It’s time for you to stop policing me and what I do with my time and money. This kind of crap is why I don’t often bother. False concern for my finances is not winning you any points with me, it’s pissing me off. You playing like it bothers you on one hand, then complaining to everyone that will listen that I don’t do enough, to gain their sympathy and audience is tiresome and frustrating. No one likes someone falsely modest or seeking attention. You actually deserve it for what you do. You earn attention when you engage with people for real. So, if you want me to engage, act like it. Now, let’s start again and hopefully we can have a better result this time. Let’s try.

………………

Saw this show, thought of you. Would you like to go?

Letters, Therapy and Music to Heal the Soul

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Sometimes its just like that… you start out writing a letter to a friends kid and it ends up being to you.. and your friend and her kid… and maybe a few other people you know. Hell maybe a lot of people need it. But mostly it was about my struggle with resentment toward my dad, my inability to get past some shit I fully blame on him.

My missive started as a note about how we, as children, like many of the most amazing things in science, are not only what we appear to be. We are an amalgamation of intricate detail. We are made up of so many things. Some good, some beautiful, some complex, some completely incomprehensible, some ugly, some insincere, some repulsive and some that want to admit is part of us. But all those tids and bits are what makes us who we are. And we as a whole are greater than than the individual bits that make us. What does this have to do with anything and why am I writing this to someone elses child? She doesn’t like her dad. (I don’t blame her, he is a piece of shit and I know a bit about dads that are pieces of shit). He isn’t a good person. She and her siblings struggle with the same self loathing I and my siblings struggle with because our whole is made up of some bad parts.

Fortunately we are not our parts. Without an arm, we are still human. But we are not the same human we were with that arm.  That specific arm, no matter its state, formed part of who we are. So I wouldn’t be who I am without the contribution of my dad, however bad I may think it, and my friends daughter wouldn’t be the amazing person she is without all her components either.

My last therapy session started with a song… My therapist was rather speachless for a bit then reminded me I dedn’t really need to see him. I have a penchant for self analysis. I know this, yet I can’t fix the resentment and anger. So we talked about the words and the song and the singer. I’ve written about Austin Lucas before and how his songs have helped me through other things in my life. At the time I played this and talked about it with the shrikydink I hadn’t come to the realization I did when writing this. Nothing he did, said, or didn’t do or say can make me who I am… but it contributes to my whole. I like the whole. It is rough and needs constant work to keep from becoming a bag of shitty parts.

Somebody Loves You

Easy there, old man
I’ll drop you where you stand
You wear wings of white but I smell your hellfire
Cause I know who you are, a racist and a coward
And all you’ve got to show for life is dust

Cause you lay roses on the ground
And turn lies to common wisdom
You’re a good man when it suits you
Yes I know

But whatever good you’ve done
Is dwarfed by mountains made of wrong
And your savior may forgive you but I won’t

Oh but somebody loves you
I guess they don’t know better
There’s a fool for every fool
And somebody loves you
Oh yeah somebody loves you
And how can it be true
There’s a fool for every fool
And somebody loves you

It was from you I learned some men cannot be trusted
And from you I learned some friends do not inspire
Cause you were like my brother
But you filled my heart with anger
And I’ll thank you when those lessons have helped at all

Oh your stories gave me life and they flowed through me like wine
But they were darkest pitch-black arrows to my soul
Yes I was your true believer now my bones do shake and shiver
With a poison that does rot me to the core

Oh but I did once love you
I guess I knew no better
Yes I was once that fool
And I did love you
Oh yes I did once love you
And how can it be true
That I was once that fool
And I did love you

And like some ghastly phantom voice, lifelong companion
Or a devil on left shoulder, lashing tongue
I spit crescents, spite filled language like some drunkard
To the heavens, when to hell he knows his spirit’s surely bound

Yes I lay roses on the ground and deceive you beyond wisdom
There’s a good man in the shadows, so I’m told
But whatever good I’ve done
Is dwarfed by mountains made of wrong
And that truth comes cold to blacken out the sun

Oh but somebody loves me
I guess they don’t know better
There’s a fool for every fool
And somebody loves me
Oh yeah somebody loves me
And how can it be true
That somebody loves me
Somebody loves you

 

Maybe I’m still resentful. Not as much as yesterday. And not nearly as much as when I last met with the shrinky dink. I still think this song speaks more about my relationship with my dad than I could ever write on my own, At least for now. But I’m working on that. 

And sometimes it’s just like that… you walk through a shadow and notice your own, and it isn’t as bad as you once thought it was. 

 

All Aboard!

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dear 2015I started writing a re-cap of 2014. Then I started writing a letter to 2014. Then I decided that all the self censoring is making it difficult to know where to start. So…. fuck it. I have closed the lid on 2014. I have given myself permission to let last year go. I have decided that I will not look back and rehash all the mistakes I made, even though some of them are super funny and blog worthy. I will not give in to the temptation to dwell in the negativity pool, even though its water is just the right temperature and they let you have tasty-fruity-boozy drinks, with little umbrellas, on your raft.

Instead I will welcome 2015. I will ride the express along it’s unknown path, but I will probably fasten my seatbelt for safety.  I will not be making any silly resolutions. (my fear of failure will only allow those I can keep with certainty anyway.) But I will make some plans. I will have some goals. And they will result in prizes that make achieving them a worth while endeavor. (I have not yet chosen the prizes but they will be awesome.) I will ride my bipolar express right in to 40’s inner circle and I will make it my bitch. (Why doesn’t 40 have a catchy rhyme, like dirty-thirty? Sporty-Forty doesn’t sound as fun to me… it sounds like work, and sweating and a spicegirl in business) I will embrace the gray hair and the wrinkles. I will embrace my inner cougar and the animal print accessories she forces upon me. Okay, to be honest, I probably won’t “embrace” the gray hair, I will continue to color it… But, not because I have gray hair. I will color it because I like my hair red, or plumb or stripey. But… I will not be upset when I see a new gray hair because frankly, I earned that shit.

This year, I will grow as a person. I will recognize that I have no control over the express train’s path, but I do have control over my reactions to the ride. I cannot control what other people think of me. But I can control how I treat other people. I cannot make my family understand me or my choices. I can’t make everyone happy. The only thing I can control is myself. If I want to be better in any way, I have to make it happen. And I will make things happen.

The bi-polar express is ready to roll. Please keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times for your own safety. Clothing is optional, however shoes are not.

follow the link to buy Erin Smith’s art… do it!

 

more badass than Jules

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I  have the most random song in my head… I guess it’s my theme today.

“sometimes…. sometimes, bad is bad.
I stay cool as a rule, but sometimes bad is bad.”

Why fucking Huey Lewis???

I have this friend, I usually refer to her as half my OREO because standing next to her I glow in the dark. Add our MP friend and I become the center in the OREO. I’m the ass white bitch between two women who have no idea what SPF means and are determined to blend if they accidentally wake up in the congo.

oreo

see… I am ass white!

My friend sin is a total badass. She is that chick you want on your team when the zombie apocalypse comes. She will be all Tallahassee and shit and you will be standing behind her like the little bitch you are. She is a 46 year old gilf with the body of a 35 year old. Her work out regimen makes douchecanoe-frat boys bow and worship at her feet… and not just to get a better look at her DD’s, they want her secret. They want to know how she does it. Ya know what little man, it’s attitude. She just loves life. She has been dealt the worst possible hand so many times but she ended up with chips left on the the table because she is a badass. Sin works everyday with the worst humanity has to offer yet she reflects the best humanity can give.

well….. she did. Friday was her last day here. She didn’t know it and I think she’d have wanted it that way. She wouldn’t have wanted to sit around wasting time waiting for that stupid bitch to bring her a door…. She’d have hopped on her Harley and gone balls out until the sunset.

Sin had a philosiphy:

” Fear less, hope more; Whine less, breathe more; Talk less, say more; Hate less, love more; And all good things are yours.

…I’m a mother, a daughter, a sister, a grandmother, a girlfriend, a friend, a mentor a leader a local and someone everyone I know can look up too. I am proud, I am strong, I love hard and loose with dignity. I am a challenger and a supporter. I do what I believe in and I do it better than anyone else. I am here for anyone and everyone. I help those that can’t help themselves and I do it cause I can.”

This song just makes me think of her.. She loved country and dancing and country. And I can fully see her doing this.

[youtube]http://youtu.be/Gw7gNf_9njs[/youtube]

 

Sin was a badass and she rocked my world. Sometimes it’s just like that, you stay cool as a rule, but when your girl is a badass, well…

posted from my tablet thingy

not quite a .38 special

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I know, I know… before you launch into a tirade about how I should be writing more, and it’s cathartic, and will cure whatever ails me.. piss off.

Okay, okay, I didn’t mean it. I want you here, but (and it’s a Star Jones pre-surgery sized butt) only if you are prepared for the older, not necessarily wiser, unfiltered, unadulterated, unashamed madness that is sars at 37. Because suddenly I found myself staring down the barrel of .38 trying to figure out where 37 years, a bunch of dreams and half my mind had gone. Shit (y’all). shit… Where the fuck did 37 years go? Why do I have all this shit to say causing me ocular leakage, filling my sinus’ and giving me a goddamned headache? Why indeed! I created my own fucking happy place and I intend to use this shit as I see fit. So the warning sign that some fucking hipster kicked over has been reinstalled in a concrete post hole and The Social Assassin has it in his sites (don’t fuck with him, he pulls no punches and will make you cry for years to come.). That being said, well… I don’t know, I make this shit up as I go. Long before the advent of pinterest or someecards or any of those places, I would quietly collect and share little quotes, words of wisdom with people through writing and correspondence. (and maybe the occasional framed card or something) You remember writing on paper don’t you? I am a walking pinterest board with all the quotes I have collected over the years. So as I stare at 38 I decided to share some shit, not necessarily just quotes, or some gold or some golden shit… whichever it may be. So without further adieu…

Buddha said “All life is suffering.” Y’all know I love me some Buddha. If I were Buddhist I may sit here and tell you how we should forgive all, trust everyone and allow ourselves to be in the moment and be one with our suffering because it is the way to achieve enlightenment. Horse. Shit. I do believe we should forgive, we should let go of the past – but (there is that but again) we have to learn whatever lesson we were supposed to from whatever shit hit our fan. Otherwise we suffered for no fucking reason. Because that Buddha, was right (again) when he said “Holding on to anger (or insert resentment – I do) is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at the one who wronged you. You are the one who gets burned.” I’m not saying forget everything… just move forward. It is important to remember… remember what we learned from the hurts we feel, remember the times we fall on our ass, remember the people we lost because we fucked up royally… equally as important is to remember the people who fucked up and hurt us, so we don’t fall for the same trick again. We should learn from our suffering because Buddha may have said that all life is suffering, but ya know… he never said you have to suffer to live. I think every time we move forward and learn from the mistakes of the past, maybe, we can prevent a little suffering in our future.

Facebook is not a substitute for life. If you are reading this you probably know that I hate Facebook. The only reason I am on there is guilt. I probably need to work on that to prevent some suffering. Anyhow… we are the age of technology rapidly becoming the age of completely connected. This sounds good on paper.. er.. screen, but we are losing touch with each other as human beings. We are becoming isolated, lonely, and forgetting that we need each other. Put the cellphones, iPads, tablets of another variety, laptops and netbooks away for a bit and have dinner with your spouse, significant other, kids and friends. Remind yourself and them, that reality is where you look at each other, touch, hold hands, hug, laugh, cry, scream, find out that things are happening because someone’s mouth spoke the words, not because someone random posted something they heard from the neighbor on facebook. Take an entire day without tech. Can you do it? Send a birthday card without posting a witty abbreviated message on their wall. I read a cover story for The Atlantic recently that dug in to the meat of this very topic. (there have been several articles disputing The Atlantic’s story, my opinion on these articles is they are written by people that do nothing but play on facebook, they don’t understand reality and personal contact.) It took deleting my facebook completely to realize who my real friends actually are, and it isn’t the people who tell my boyfriend how great I am but never bother to tell me to my face. I am more than the number of “likes” or +1’s that my post has. I am more than the number of views on my blog. I am less than the number of friends I have on Facebook, and that suits me just fine. Because at the end of the day ~when I find myself fading I close my eyes and realize, my friends are my energy.~ I said friends, not facebook… that would just sound dumb.

I had a more amazing nuggets of wisdom to impart, but I decided that it has taken me a month to post this so I may want to speed this along. Plus it gives me some shit to post over the next few days. I feel some blog vomit about to happen and it will not be for your children. Because sometimes it’s just like that, you look in the mirror and you aren’t 21 anymore. And it’s a good thing, at 21 you are afraid to say the word cunt.

tanks mang

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Who took the elephant?
You know the elephant, that was here.
It was right here!
It’s been sitting on my chest for months and even though there is still a Mastiff there now, I can tell it’s gone. The anxiety and stress and fear, well they aren’t all gone but they are in reprieve.

I have been patient, waiting, looking for something so I would be responsible. I didn’t want to pile on another bad decision. I didn’t want to disappoint everyone so I waited. And I shrunk. And the elephant got bigger and heavier and it was harder to breathe.

Sorry… I know this is a bullshit “rich first world issue”, but growing up where you have a car for every house (because lets face it, our public transit in most places is fucked) you learn the freedom that brings. I do realize how fortunate I am in every way. This is not about being thankful for that just now. That is a different grattitude for a different day. Today I am realizing just how oppressed I felt not having the ability to come and go as I please. I have great friends that would cart my ass and the most patient man ever who gave me cart blanche (for the most part) with his vehicle… but it wasn’t mine. I never felt okay, just going without asking. It wasn’t mine.

So the bullet was bitten and the purchase made. It was not the originally intended purchase, in fact far from. It will mean being a grown up and saying no sometimes. But everytime I have to say no to the movies this time, I’ll remember the elephant and how it felt to be released from it’s weight. I’ll do something else. I’ll remember the tears shed in lonliness and sadness and I will smile. It is okay. I am mine, I can go. I am free to choose where and when. It was a good decision. It was a smart decision.

Sometimes it takes removing one weight to notice there are more, but I can get to those. I can make my way to each, on my own, without asking anyone’s permission. I can give each one its turn and look… wouldn’t you know, that bastard was sitting on my confidenece. I knew it was here somewhere.

Lets dust it off, shall we?

breathe, echoing the sound

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I just want for you to be here to sit beside me.

I wish for the anxiety to be gone so my chest to relax and the shaking to stop.

I want to be held so the tears will stop and I’ll know its okay. I want the shaking to stop and I want to know its okay.

Today is a blue day.

The lenses in my glasses are blue. Not a dark kind of midnight blue but kind of a prussian blue. Seeing the world this way is very frustrating because I don’t like these glasses. They feel like I can’t take them off and change them out for my pretty pink ones. They feel like I can’t breathe. They make the little things look big and the easy things look hard and they make everything feel personal. The blue glasses put me on the roller coaster that takes me on the vortex ride and I fucking hate the vortex ride. I don’t know who designed that shit but they didn’t know what they were doing.

I try to be quiet and wait for the calm to come.

I try not to think about what I’m not doing and the mess piling up and the arguments I’m picking for no reason and the tears that I can’t stop. I can’t.

What’s to say, what’s to ask, I’ve no answer to give and even I probably don’t even want to hear the reality. So I sit and sniffle and wipe dry my tears and think about all the reasons that brought me here to this blue day. The reasons that matter and the ones that don’t.

Today is a blue day.

I just want for you to be here to sit beside me.

I wish for the anxiety to be gone so my chest to relax and the shaking to stop.

I want to be held so the tears will stop and I’ll know its okay. I want the shaking to stop and I want to know its okay.

 

[youtube]http://youtu.be/KAUF7e1GVrc[/youtube]