Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Have you ever looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back at you? I have. It scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know the person standing there.

She was at least thirty pounds heavier than I remembered and a lot sadder looking. Her hair was much longer and darker (thank you Miss Clairol!). She was paler and did not have a dab of make up on. An old faded tie-dyed t-shirt and black stretch pants that looked like they had seen better days clung to her body.

Where is the person I used to be? Do I want to find her? Am I better off now with out her?

I stood in front of the mirror for, who knows how long, pondering these questions and reflecting on the life I have led, the person I once had been. Then what does any rational girl do…she calls a friend!

“Do you remember the old me? What was I like? What did you like about me? How do I get her back?”

My friends response did not take long. “You have always been fun and had a lust for life. A very sensual person. Full of laughter. Quick witted. Generous to a fault. People flock to be near you. You always look like you are going somewhere no matter how you are dressed…neat, clean and fashionable.” Then there was a pause, a long pause. “Until you got remarried. You changed. It was like all the stuff he fell in love with you for wasn’t what either one of you thought a wife should be. And you just changed.”

I thanked her for her honesty and made plans to go shopping soon. What better way to find myself again, buy something new to wear to my re-emergence.

As I sat there wondering, ‘is there a happy medium with my old self and my new self?’ How do I integrate the fun party girl with the serious married woman? Can you be the freak in the bed for your husband and a grandma reading bedtime stories only minutes before? I don’t think I will find a book store that will have a book on S&M by Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart! Now Rachel Ray has potential, but she talks way to fast so I would assume any book by her would be a fast read as well.

The more I thought about this the more questions there were. I missed me. I love my husband and many things about our new life together…but I miss a lot of my old life. I miss the way he looked at me, back before he knew how grouchy I was during my period or when I have a migraine. I miss the way he used to kiss me hello when we had been apart. I miss the way we worshiped each others bodies like he was a God and I his Goddess…It dawned on me it was not just me I missed, I missed us…the single/dating us.

We have become so weighed down with just existing and living our lives that we have forgotten to be happy. We have neglected the little things that made us who we are and what made us happy; and gave us purpose to be a couple.

With that revelation I set out a two part plan.

PART 1: I am going to set aside one hour a week for me. I will do something just for me, something the old me would do…paint my toenails, shave my legs (yea I don’t always have time for that and it does make me feel sexier) or just have a drink and call an old friend for a laugh and to catch up.

PART 2: I am going to take two-1/2 hour time slots a week and spend it devoted to my husband. Just to him. I will concentrate on doing things that make him happy and let him know how much I care and love him. Who knows maybe he will reciprocate my actions and that could lead us back to some of the fun things we used to as our “pre-marital selves”.

If this plan works in a few months I will be able to look in the mirror and recognize myself again. Not the old me, not the current me but a hybrid…a balance of both, the good wife I want to be and the fun party girl I still long to be.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the happiest of them all?”

Moral cherries and pearl diving

Do you remember the first dirty joke you heard? The first time you flirted with someone?

This was the beginning of loosing your innocence. We were all bright eyed and naive at one point, then our decent began. Some sink rapidly into the depths of moral depravity; others test the waters, float along and dive on occasion.

Now some profess that they have never so much as put a toe into the water…I personally think they are lying to themselves. At some point everyone has had an impure thought, at the very least. It is human curiosity and normal. These self professed goody-goody’s usually end up in the darkest depths and becoming the piranhas and sharks…they are the ones on the 6 o’clock news with their neighbors and friends being interviewed. “He (or She) was so nice. Attended church every Sunday….” “I never knew what was going on right next door.”

Being one of extremes myself, I have to be careful not to fall into either category. So I tend to think of myself as a pearl diver. I snorkel on the surface until I see something interesting below and dive down and check it out. Rip it open see what is inside, hang out, take what I like and leave the rest for other divers. (Disclaimer: As I have no actual diving experience, this is only an analogy. So if you know something about pearl diving get of my back about me not being technically accurate! This is not a how to guide…get a life…or better yet, you can pay for lessons and take me diving!)

I do love my group of friends. Hanging out, witnessing the debauchery we can create. When a new person goes on their inaugural outing with us we often refer to it as “popping their moral cherry”. Because they are never the same again. The jokes, laughter and often drinks that are a part of an evening with us are not for an amateur or the faint of heart. It is all good healthy fun. I have seen people look at us, as if to say quiet down and behave yourselves. Which only causes us to act more unruly.

So I ask you what kind of life are you leading? Are you scouring the depths? Are you wading by the shore? Lounging on a float, skimming the water with your finger tips? Snorkeling the reefs, looking for pearls? Or are you sitting on shore scared wrapped in a towel?

It's my blog and it may offend

After much soul searching and meditation, I have returned to my blogging. Part of me wondered: Do I have anything of value to say? Does anyone care? Why am I writing this stuff? Is this a good way for me to voice my opinions and feelings?

My answers are this: I need an outlet for my voice. The freedom of my speech. It is therapeutic, it makes me feel better. And I don’t always have to write 100% facts, this is not a newspaper. It is opinions, rants, raves, dreams, desires…well you get the picture. I am writing for me, I am sharing because I want to and enjoy others opinions and input.

I don’t seek to offend others, but I have discovered if something offends me there is a reason and it is usually a personal one. The offensive writing, picture or idea has struck a very personal cord within me…thus is why it has offended me. So if something I say here offends you, ask yourself why and be honest with yourself.

My mouth has always gotten me in hot water. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have written “I must not talk in class.” I have something to say most of the time about most topics. You can choose to listen or not, makes no difference to me.

I will not apologize for my opinions or feelings, they are mine and I own them…should I choose to share them and you read or hear them and they are contrary to yours…OH Well…those are yours, these are mine. If you want yours heard start your own damn blog! But if you choose to belittle mine or use mine to do me harm may God help you! Because this is a blog…do you know what is true and what is fiction? Did you get your information from a reliable source or someone who would have some personal gain? Hmmm…personal gain…no one would ever lie or read into someone else’s opinion what they want to hear for personal gain now would they? It is called gossip for a reason!


For better or worse, I am back and will blog till my hearts content. I have released my fear and worries. I hope you enjoy my entries and I encourage you to start your own blog! I look forward to reading yours!

This has been a test...only a test

Ever notice, no matter where you work, when the bids for a promotion are posted it is like a sinking ship…every man or woman for themselves, stepping over each other to get to the last life jacket and into a life raft.

People who were once friends are now competitors. Setting each other out for the smallest of infractions, making themselves look better in the process; or so they think. The rest of us are innocent bystanders. We just seem to get caught in the cross fire and have to deal with the bombardment of shrapnel flying from all directions. I try to sit quietly and ignore the roar of the cannons on deck.

Knee pads were not standard issue. But so many people seem to be wearing them as they turn in their intention of promotion. Let the sucking up begin! It is funny to watch adults follow their superiors around like puppies or a momma duck and her babies. No matter where I work, what field it is in, this phenomenon never gets old to view. I always want someone to make a sudden screeching stop and see how many people have to pull their heads out of someone else’s ass.

I have always just tried to steer clear when there are choppy waters ahead. Don’t get me wrong I am ambitious, just not willing to compromise my personal ethics and dreams. When the right opportunity comes along who knows maybe I will head down to Wal-Mart and get me a pair of deluxe knee pads and start practicing my duck walk.

Is it a man over board if you jump in? or did I just volunteer to walk the plank? Are these shark infested waters? Never mind I found the rum!

If you were not a good employee before the posting of bids, why become one all of the sudden, why change just now. Consistency is key. WOW! What a concept. Being an asshole doesn’t make you management material either, just makes people hate to be around you! If you suck as an employee, chances are you will suck as a manager…and no amount of back stabbing or sucking up will change that fact.

It would be to funny to sit on deck sipping a frozen concoction watching the Malay. As every one on deck looks foolish in those silly vests, pushing and shoving each other as they announce over the speakers…“Beeeeeep! This has been a test…only a test…Mr. Blank was promoted to Blank, a month ago. We have been conducting a test of the emergency promotion system. Beeeeeep!”

Does my love life need LASIK?

I have always heard love is blind. I never was one to believe that saying. I have always patted myself on the back, saying that I go into relationships with my eyes wide open.

With the one big twenty year exception of my first marriage, lets just erase that like it was all a bad dream. Write it out of the script like the TV show Dallas did with Bobby Ewing coming out of the shower and the whole previous season was a dream…yea I like that…I dreamed for 20 years and woke up with two great kids.

I am an open and honest person, what you see is what you get. Now I am beginning to wonder does my love life need LASIK surgery?

The view I have recently seen is not the person I knew. I have had my eyes ripped open, scouring off a layer of cells and damaging my retinas.

Mr. Kind, Caring and Considerate (Mr.KCC)…made excuses for and allowed another human being to be used. A person I thought would never use or abuse another living soul actually supported this subterfuge that was perpetrated.

To explain: Party A has deep feelings for Party B. Party B wants to only be friends with Party A. Party B needed a financial transaction (a major purchase), Party A co-signed for Party B. Things were fine and friendly for a time, now a couple of months later…Party A is not around as often, if ever. One can only assume Party A has been kicked to the curb as their usefulness has been outlived.

Now as I see it this is using Party A’s feelings to get a desired result. Which is not what nice, kind and caring people do…it is abusive and just plain wrong! As I sat on the sidelines of this and said how I thought it was a “bad idea” and “wrong” the replies that flew at me were shocking. Party A “offered” and “wouldn’t do it if they didn’t want to.” Just because someone offers doesn’t mean you should take the offer, is what I recommended.

My heart hurt. I mean literally hurt. An ache in my chest for days that did not go away. I would look at Mr. KCC and all I saw was a stranger in his place. Had I been blind? Oh dear lord, was I one of those stupid women? What about Party A did their heart hurt, did they feel used, did they see the truth behind it all? Did they actually think Party B was going to change their type of relationship? And more importantly what kind of karma was all of this inviting into our lives?

Mr. KCC actually did not see the wrong here, someone offered a solution and the offer was accepted. No matter how I put it, he could not grasp that it was wrong and praying on Party A’s feelings. Now some may say it is none of His or my business…well it is because this is someone we love, care about and want to teach values to, which is Party B. And Party A is just a hell of a nice person who deserves to be treated better.

And that brings up a whole new topic of heart hurting, I don’t like the people I love to be cruel and inconsiderate of others. Each person has value and are placed into our lives for a reason. We should cherish each relationship, even the bad ones. My twenty year dream did bring two wonderful kids into this world, so all was not bad.

I don’t want rose colored glasses, but maybe I should Google LASIK and check out the procedure…my heart can’t take what my eyes can’t see.

Rock on Lawrence Welk

I was driving to work the other morning with my usual genre of music blaring, what my friends term as “angry white girl music”. This genre consists of anything that is loud and obscene. It makes your heart race and blood pump, the perfect early morning…get my ass to work by 6 a.m. kind of anthems.

Now I do like all types of music, I don’t discriminate. I can find a hard core rap or a whiney ass country song that speaks to me on occasion. But first thing in the morning I need something to get me going!

Stopped at a red light I looked at the car beside me, I could tell he was a fellow ‘rocker’. He was singing. I smiled and gave him the traditional ‘rock on’ hand signal and the dude did this head banging move and flashed me a ‘rock on’. Then we were on our way as the light turned green. It was cool to feel a kinship with my fellow traveler. Until the next red light.

There I encountered ‘the redneck round up’. I got behind two oversized pick up trucks with rebel flag bumper stickers and hunting/NRA stickers in their rear windows. Even with my windows rolled up I knew they were listening to either country or southern rock…now there is nothing wrong with a little “free bird” if that is what makes you tick. Just make sure see me down here in my little car and don’t run over me in your monster truck.

Things were moving smoothly and it looked as though Metallica and Korn were going to get me to work on time…until I got behind Mammaw Easy Listening! I could see Lawrence Welk’s bubbles escaping her sedan windows as she did 10 mph below the speed limit. As I went to pass her I noticed she could barely see over the steering wheel, which explained why she drifted in and out of the lane. Where could a woman who appeared to be 80+ years old be going this early in the morning? Was she going to Hardee’s to make the ‘from scratch’ biscuits? Was she going to bond a loved one out of jail? Was it senior day at one of the department stores?

Metallica‘s “Holier than thou” began crank out of my speakers. I wanted so badly to hang out of the windows and sing/wail to this little old lady who was making me late. I settled with just passing her and getting on to work. But the urge was there, so I rolled down my window and gave her a ‘rock on’ signal. Which I am sure she thought was a ‘bird’; because she shook her fist at me.

I did make it to work, backing into my parking space…no bubbles in sight.

Next time you get in you car and turn on the radio, pop in a CD or plug in your iPod think about where you are going and how fast do you need to get there. Does your driving speed match your music? Are you a Lawrence Welk or a Metallica?

And if you are a Metallica watch out for the denizen of Lawrence Welk’s fans and all those damn bubbles on the roadways!

Pea soup and animal crackers...a VERY dangerous topic

I was recently having a conversation with a close family member about religion. I know this is a VERY dangerous topic so I was treading lightly.

They were upset that other members of our family have become so involved with their church and their “church family” that they no longer attend our family gatherings, holiday events or celebrations. To this person it was as if they had chosen the “church family” over their real family. Which was not what church and the Christian faith was founded on, in their opinion.

Confused yet? I don’t want to point fingers…I love all of my family and extended family, but I do see a point here. The first person feels left out. They do not go to the same church or follow the same spiritual path the other part of the family does. So one can’t see what the other is so enthralled about. They just miss their friend/family member. The one they ran around with, played cards, watched movies, went on vacations with and called all the time isn’t there anymore and when they are all they talk about is church and their “church family”.

Now I do only know one side of this story, but it hurts my heart to know that two friends are torn apart because of a church. It hurts my soul to know that these are my family members, who share so much history and now the care taking of an elderly beloved family member.

A church is four walls, the congregation is the like minded people attending services. As an American we have the freedom to worship according to any religious path that we are called to follow. I respect this and value it above all of my rights. It makes me truly happy that members of my family have found their path. I know walking my own spiritual path has not always been easy, for me or those around me.

I don’t ever want to loose my foundation, my family. Without them I have nothing to build my “church” upon. They are my rock, they shaped me into the person I am today. My personal religious views and path are not open for discussion or debate, I am who I am. Don’t try to witness to me…I don’t need saving…I may not be done sinning yet! Yeah, go ahead and start praying now…get out your rosaries…we may need an exorcist before I get dipped! Mmmm! Pea soup for dinner might be good tonight…wonder if Linda Blair has posted a recipe yet?

Is it a prerequisite that at a certain age that all you can talk about is religion and politics? Is that why my family members are having these hurt feelings and issues? Find a neutral topic please!!! Weather, crafts, compare illnesses or medications!

I wish I could go back the way things used to be when everyone was friends and made time to grill out or have pizza. Before life got so complicated for all of us. So many things have happened to our family, some good/some bad. We got thru it all, together! And we have so much more to go thru…is it possible to set the religious doctrine aside for one evening a month and be with family? Reminisce, look at old photos and welcome new members to our clan…I’ll bring the pea soup and animal crackers! ;)

The cat ate my phenergan

After dealing with a recent bout of nausea and illness, I caved in and took some of my anti-nausea medicine that are prescribed for when my migraines progress to the “I can’t keep a thing down stage”, aka phenergan.

Not wanting to over do it and be drowsy for days, I decided ¼ of a pill would be enough to ease my tummy and allow me to get some rest. I get out my lovely amber bottle from Walgreen’s, check to make sure it is the med I am wanting (cause all of the bottles look the same, you have to read them when you take more than one prescription). I lay the pill on my glass topped dresser, using my thumb nail cut it in half and half again. Gently raking the crumbs into the bottle, as I don’t want any to get into the floor (I do have a 3 year old grand son who lives with me who will eat things he drops onto the floor…and a cat who lets face it licks just about anything off the floor or off her fur.

Being very proud of my self for being so safety minded I take my tiny smidgen of a pill and lay down, hoping the motion sickness that has become my stomach subsides quickly. As I close my eyes and begin to slip into that medicine haze, you know when your thoughts become “Alice in Wonderland” meets “Willy Wonka” I hear my cat at the bottom of the bed settling in, kneading and pawing. I begin to ponder. Does she sleep all day because she has been sneaking and taking my phenergan? Are all cats phenergan addicts is that why they are always sleeping? Should we have an intervention for her?

These types of questions swirl around my head as I doze off.

Upon waking the next morning I realized how crazy my thoughts had become. I look down and see the little black fur ball that has snuggled up at my feet. I think of how perfect she is, how could I have ever thought anything so insane about this wonderful loyal pet who has been with me through thick and thin. As I get up she stretches out and yawns…she looks so mischievous…her name is “Mischief”…

Bottom line keep your meds put up where your cat can’t reach them…just in case.

I forgot to read the fine print!

This was not the bill of goods I was sold! Oh he had a great advertising campaign, the advertising firm was top notch and they really did their job, worth every dime spent on them!

“He is the whole package, no upgrades required, he is the deluxe model…”

He is handsome, caring and kind. He has one of the biggest hearts you will ever find. He is loyal to those he loves. He is so strong, wrapped in his arms I will always feel safe. His smile and laugh are magical. And treats me like a Goddess in the boudoir, if you know what I mean. Ahhh life is good!

Then it happens…we decide to get married! I am over joyed at the thought, it actually surprises me that I want to try this again. But his advertising representative assures me that he is a catch. He was previously a good father and husband. And he has been so lonely until I came alone, his previous girlfriend was (according to the rep) less than nice or accepting to his family, which was a huge thorn in his side that eventually caused their relationships demise. I was a dream come true for them. A breath of fresh air, lighting up the room when I entered; so I was told. My head swelled with their compliments. His adult children seemed to like me, his toddler grandson liked me, my kids liked him…OK let’s do this.

So my second wedding, another court house nuptials for me…no fancy dress, but I did wear purple and have a pretty purple silk bouquet (made by me), our kids were there and a couple of friends. And we were married by a dear friend’s mom at the county court clerk’s office. It was Halloween so I guess I can’t complain too much. Which is my absolute favorite holiday, by the way.

Now after over a year and a half of wedded “bliss” my owner’s manual has yet to come via FedEx, UPS, or USPS. I don’t know what all these strange growls and long periods of silence mean. How do you work with the hard headed stubborn nature of an older model that is set in their ways. Flexibility…there is none! And what does the phrase, “you are just gonna have to get over it,” mean…does he not know women carry grudges forever and we drag up every thing they ever did wrong to us each and every argument, getting over it is simply not in our genetic make up. Obey was not in our wedding vows…hell even my GPS has a female voice because I don’t want a man telling me where to go…what chance does my husband think he has getting me to obey him (didn’t work to well for my father either! I am not the obedient kind.)

I do love him though, even if we had to move back to the tiny house with one bathroom…we now have 2 ½ baths for us, his daughter (23 years old) and her son (3 years old). Much easier to live with people when you can have your own toilet!

Since I had no manual to go by I got out my marriage license. Maybe for nostalgia, maybe for some hope, I noticed some peculiar marks, very tiny in one corner. I got out a magnifying glass…“Absolutely No trade-ins, refunds or exchanges”. OH SHIT! First rule of contracts, my first semester of business law came rushing back at me “Read the fine print!”

So the moral of my story…read the fine print before you sign anything and a good PR campaign can make anyone sound like the man of your dreams. Just pray when the goods are delivered that they are something you can at least live with and love, cause they won’t be the bill of goods you were sold.

Sing it Aretha!

How is it that people are promoted to positions and/or jobs that require respectability, but they have none? Did they ever have any? Did they loose it with the climbing up the ladder of success? Is that how they were able to succeed?

If you are in a particular type of job that respect is automatically given by the general public; such as a lawyer, doctor, teacher, fire fighter or police officer- do you deserve the respect you are given or should you have to earn it?

I guess my main thought here is respectability…is it earned, deserved or assumed? And how to you know if you have it or if you have lost it?

I personally have issue with working for or with people I don’t respect. My feeling is this, “How can you ask me to do something you are not willing to do? How can you look down your nose at your fellow man (or woman) when you are no better than they are?” I have worked in fields that a vast education is not required. I have an associate’s degree and a year past that, most of my superiors have felt threatened that I was not only a strong opinionated woman, but I had an education to back me up. Many would try to belittle me and make me feel insignificant. I always thought it was just how things worked in the world. But now I have opened my eyes.

I don’t have to just give away my respect. It should be earned and deserved. We all come into this world the same way…naked! And when we leave this world we take nothing with us except our spirit, soul and karma. I for one want my karma balanced, my soul to be light & unburdened and my spirit to be free. So I respect myself most of all and plan to surround myself with those I respect.

The people who cower, tend to be unable to look me in the eye, see the potential in me and others…I simply don’t have time for much less respect for! Don’t send your minions to talk to me or do your dirty work! MAN UP! Grab your balls and have enough respect for yourself to take care of things for yourself, by yourself. As you look down your nose at people I hope you realize that you are not tapping into the potential and excellence that people surrounding you have to truly offer. It is your loss and such a waste. Luckily they will move on to more deserving role models and positions. Sadly you will still be where you are your ambitions never realized and making the same mistakes year after year.

And if you ever doubt your own worth think about Aretha Franklin…“R E S P E C T, find out what it means to me!”

It's all Ancient Greek to me!

Through much consideration and observation, I have come to the conclusion that the female gender is bilingual. We are fluent in Ancient Greek!

My first observation was when I asked my children "who did this?" and they both looked at me, cocked their heads to one side and shrugged their shoulders. Then I noticed my husband seem to not understand when I asked him to take out the trash.

Through many years of observation ladies the following phrases and questions need to be translated to your loved ones for them to understand you and for you to not loose your patience with them:
"Is this your glob of toothpaste in the sink?"
"What is that under your bed?"
"Do not walk out that door." or "Do not slam that door."
"You bought it, you have to fix it or take it back."
"Get that animal out of my house."
"How did your bubble gum get into your sister's hair?"
"Who's wet towel is this on the floor?"
"The trash needs to go out."
"The (insert type of pet) needs to be fed."
Anything that starts with, "I need you to..."
These are just a few key phrases/questions that I have encountered during my research. I am sure there are thousands of other everyday phrases that we think we are saying in American English, but are being heard in Ancient Greek.

With my great revelation that I am actually speaking Ancient Greek, I have also concluded (or deluded) that I have a spark of the divine Greek Goddess within me. This could only explain how I know this language from antiquity!

Therefore I shall from henceforth demand to be treated with divine reverence! All bow down to the Goddess Smartassa! I want four well oiled muscular men to carry me around on a litter all day, as I am too divine for my feet to touch the ground. I will also have afternoon pampering to include: massages and mani/pedi all while drinking the finest wines and being fed exotic fruits and cheeses (all by my four well oiled muscular male slaves/pets). And before bed each night a long hot bubble bath where someone else shaves my legs for me...and can get that freakin strip I seem to always miss up the back of my left leg.

I declare that 10+ pounds over weight is now sexy and Goddess sized (sorry skinny bitches!) All menial tasks, especially cleaning the bathroom will be done by the non-Ancient Greek speaking peasants. I do reserve the right to cook, only when I want to and what I want to (cause sometimes I do like to cook). I will only wear loose fitting, flowing toga type clothing, not this knit crap Wally world thinks we all look good in...by the way we don't! No more constricting clothing and sexy lingerie is worn because I want to wear it not because I want you to tear it off me and throw it on the floor...I did pay good money for it, and spend quite a bit of time picking it out.

So ladies take your spark of divine Ancient Greek Goddess and run with it. You are speaking my language!

Your Goddess, Smartassa has spoken...now it's all Ancient Greek to me!

To Begin With...

I noticed when I would post my status updates on Facebook there were never enough characters for me to express my thoughts adequately or fully...so here I am.

Now that I have all this space what do I say? Do I let people in on my innermost thoughts, the things that keep me awake at night or the stuff that pisses me off the most? The pressure is on and midnight is rapidly approaching.

So I think for today I will just say hello, welcome to my twisted mind...please put fasten your seat belts, put your tray tables in the full and upright position and please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times. Please notice the exits are clearly marked at the front and rear...