My sister and I were invited to attend a leadership trip to Avon’s Zanesville, Ohio, distribution plant today. We had to leave home at 4:45am, so right about now (6:16pm) I am ready to pass out from exhaustion. This was a total and complete honor for us, and OMG was this amazing!
As is usually the case with the two of us, we had entirely too much fun on the ride up there.
We stopped at a McDonald’s to grab more coffee and use the ladies room. WOW, have things changed since I had small children. I closed the stall door to a spacious ‘potty’ spot, sat down and found myself looking at a chair mounted on the inside of the door, complete with straps. Frankly that kinda creeped me the heck out. Oh don’t get me wrong, having had to use the bathroom with a small child in tow in my distant past, I get the need and the idea is really a good one as it keeps the little crumb crunchers out of trouble in a germ infested area. But my first, very sideways and wrong thought, was “oh, a midget bondage chair!” Yes, I know, wrong and sick. My Biker appreciated the sick humor when I shot him a picture of my view from the top of Mount porcelain.
We got lost, sort of, thanks to mapquesting the directions. We left the highway 2 exits too soon and the address turned out to be a high school. But that is okay, because while driving through that area we found some rather interesting businesses. One called the Splash And Dash car wash. Next door to that is the Soggy Doggy pet groomer. The topper was the strip bar in what appears to have been an old church. Ice the cake with what appeared to be life size iron sheep, horses, cowboys and some other barnyard critters on the one sidewalk, and well you have one very interesting little town. We were in tears from laughing.
The rest of the day was, to us Avon reps, the beauty industry version of crack for druggies! It is a fabulous distribution center, high tech, and totally amazing! It makes me appreciate what I do for a living all the more. It was a huge shot in my mojo. Doesn’t hurt that all of us that went are a peppy group of ladies bursting with excitement for the brand, Avon.
See what one misses when they don’t run with a totally crazy person like myself? :)
Yes, today is the Marvelous one’s birthday. In case like me, you struggle with math, the 20th anniversary of my 29th birthday…makes me 49 years old today. Perhaps I’m not wired correctly, but this one is bugging me way more than the thought of turning 50 next year on this day. I don’t know why but the knowledge that this is the last of the 40′s bothers me, intensely.
If my calculations are correct, Fred would be 97 today. Fred is my grandpa, the single greatest man to ever walk this planet in my lifetime, and that is my most unhumble opinion of the man. He was the most generous, kind, positive, wise, beautiful person ever. I was his first grandchild, born on his birthday. I miss him SO much sometimes that I will still tear up. I can still remember his voice and hear it in my head as clear as if it were yesterday. We always talked on our birthday, and my first dozen roses came from him, on my first birthday. He taught me what I now refer to as the Thumper Rule (from Bambi), “If you don’t have something nice to say, it isn’t necessary to say anything at all.” Thumper the rabbit says something similar in the movie Bambi, it is awesome advice. Fred lived it, I never heard him say anything that was unkind about anyone regardless of who they were, he always tried to find the good or remained silent. I sought his advice a few times in my life, and now I would give so much to be able to still ask “what would Fred do” to him. Instead, when life overwhelms me, I sometimes go find him in the cemetery and lay next to his head stone and talk to him. I don’t know if beyond this world he can hear me, but I feel better. I just so often wish I could hear him. He always called me by my first and middle name, and is the only person I will ever allow to do that. It’s how I honor his memory.
I was reflecting on the past year last night as I drifted to sleep, thinking about where I have been, and where I am headed. I think it is a good time to do this, and a good idea just to be sure I have myself grounded and have a direction to go. Here are some of those things that I pondered in the night:
I got my heart broken a few times…first by Mr. Wonderful (would have been nice to know before I fell for him that he was married), then the Superhero (though not at all his fault, timing was just all wrong), and skirted a lifetime of hell with the Count (I dodged a serious bullet on that one, major self centered control freak – I was totally settling when it came to that one). I vowed to spend this year single, no dating just enjoying life as a single chick.
Fate and destiny had other plans, and they brought the Biker across my path for the 4th time in as many years. This time he didn’t mess around with the “come to work for me” angle. Instead, he came over the wall of the garden that is my heart and tore down the walls with a sledge hammer. Thanks to the Count for being a complete asshole, I would have missed the opportunity to be cherished, adored and loved. :)
I lost 3 of the kids I enjoyed watching, but gained 2 more part timers. I half heartedly worked my Avon business, making it to President’s Recognition Club, but not making the kind of money I wanted. I have since started working on a business plan, so that when school is out I will be done babysitting and can devote myself to working my business with the intent of making it my living and livelihood. And I’m working on the future husband’s business, as his office/business manager for both that he is working now. Yes that means no more babysitting for the Marvelous one, I will be entirely too busy. I also want the freedom to drop everything when he comes in and says “pack the saddle bags, Beautiful, it’s time for some throttle therapy.”
The most important thing that I learned over the past year was to be true to myself. No more allowing anyone to tell me who or what I can be, what I can and cannot do, no more caging the Marvelous one and clipping her wings. I will never again exchange parts of me to please someone else. I’m way too strong a personality, and way too much woman for most men to handle. And I’m okay with that. I knew I’d find a man strong enough in character and personality to pair with, and I have in the Biker.
I know that none of this is news to many of you, just wanted to get my thoughts down.
I received a text this morning from my baby girl, asking what I was doing. Next thing I knew she was at my door, kidnapping me for the day. Her end goal was sushi for dinner, for Mother’s Day. But first she wanted to wander Kenwood Town Center, a local mall for those with money to burn on expensive crap they don’t need. Well, okay, there are things there folks probably need, but I honestly believe if I walked in to Nordstrom’s alarms would sound and a voice would say over the intercom “this woman cannot afford to LOOK upon our selection, let alone purchase anything. Please escort her out of the store at once.” We didn’t even wander in there.
We DID browse other places and I found a few things that I simply MUST own. One, is a an Austrian Crystal chandelier, at the Disney Store of all places. It isn’t for sale, it is part of their store display. The floor is a beautiful, midnight blue tile with sparkles in it like diamonds. I am so all over that except I want a “pink brick road” with diamond sparkles. After all I AM a princess! The chandelier had lights shining on it, making it appear PINK! OH HELL YES!!!! I plan to have an office in my home, from which to run my Avon business as well as my future husband’s business. I MUST have this hanging in my office, or something similar, but with REAL pink crystals. Okay not real crystal, that is an insane, over priced non-necessity. Just pink do-dads will be fine, they can be plastic or glass, as long as the darn thing is pink!
Upon wandering to the back of the Disney store, we spotted a pea pod, and when we opened it, we found it contains 3, adorable little peas!!!! Again, I must have this. I do not know WHY I feel I need it, I just do. And I will go back and buy it one day to put in my office on a shelf, or my desk, because it makes me smile like a little kid. That alone is a good reason, right?
We strolled into the Godiva store for chocolate, because the daughter gets a free piece every month because she belongs to their chocolate club. She purchased some chocolate covered strawberries while we were there, that are as big as a toddler’s fist. Then we sat on a bench and ate those until I thought I was going to be sick to my stomach from the sugar rush of that and the cookie crumble mocha whatever the hell it is from Starbucks that she felt we simply had to consume. She had a gift card she had purchased for a former boyfriend turned-out-to-be asshole, so we used it. :) I had enough sugar in me to crawl up the wall and across the ceiling! Frankly, and I told her this, Esther Price chocolates are way better than Godiva. Just sayin. The guys I used to work with, when I had to send them to Europe for work, would bring me back Godiva and other chocolates from over seas. I’ve sampled a variety from many countries. You can keep them all, Esther Price has them all beat! But hey, it was still pretty tasty!
We wandered into the Swarovski store and browsed dozens of adorable, high priced crystal objects. And that is when I spotted the Hello Kitty items. OMG!!!!! I love Hello Kitty! I was even wearing my Avon, Hello Kitty watch today! I know, right? AWESOME!!!! These are way too damned cute and if I could justify spending $205 on each of them, not to mention the other items, I would, but 2.5 inches tall of crystal, for that price they better clean house and do laundry aside from being adorable. I was stopped by a store clerk, and told I was not permitted to photograph the items. Oh WHATEVER! I was able to slip this shot in before we left. WAAHAAAHAAAA! That necklace in the back of the photo? $270!!! Like I’d walk out of my house wearing a necklace that cost that much??? But it is fun to look, dream, and then move on. Just not my style. Too many cute, AFFORDABLE Hello Kitty items to be had.
We also stopped by the Reggis salon and had a feather put in my hair. I’ve always wanted one, another one of those things various men in my past frowned upon. My daughter has one now, and that motivated me. I know only too well that my Cowboy Wolfman will love it, because it makes me happy and that alone would cause him to encourage me to get one. I love that man for letting me just be ME and loving me for who I am.
After we left the mall, we headed to Dancing Wasabi, a sushi place she loves. The last time she introduced me to sushi was at a Thai place. It was just okay. This time? OMG STOP THE PRESSES! It was to die for delicious. Yes, I’m so sold and will again dine there with her, hopefully soon.
It was a very fun time, celebrating Mother’s Day, with my amazing baby girl. We laughed a lot, dreamed a lot, and shared some special moments. I love making memories.
My honey, the man I am going to marry, told me I am a hard-core biker babe. He is so funny.
Yes, I DID just use the ’M’ word (marry), I’ll come back to that. Relax, you can wait a bit!
Where was I?….Oh yes. Well I’ve mentioned my honey is a biker, runs with a 1%’er club. Not going to give the name, it is NOT important to know. I will say this, I did a lot of research on this. Law enforcement has their side, and the clubs have their version, and from what I can tell the two overlap a bit and in the middle, just a like a divorce, is the truth. For those that don’t understand what a 1%’er club/gang is, go and read this article, A Guide To Outlaw Motorcycle Clubs, it may be eye opening for those that view them as scary or dangerous.,
Damn, I hijacked my post again, back on track here. My baby is a biker, the real deal. Hard core, he will and does ride in the cold and rain. LONG rides, he is not a Harley owner that rides in nice weather for short trips (under 300 miles) and then thinks they are a biker. He has close to 5000 miles on his Harley in the past month. Some in freezing temps, pouring rain, and almost all racked up over 4 weekends. He rides hard and the group rides fast. Okay so does he.
I’ve never been overly fond of highway riding, in fact I hated it. And then, as mentioned in a recent post, I wanted to get to my baby on the other side of Memphis, so I hitched a ride with the brothers and rode all night, 500 miles, to get to him. With someone who has “Crazy” as a part of his nickname. In the COLD. At speeds in excess of 85mph. The semi trucks were so close in the lane next to us at times I swear I could have reached out and touched them. I got over that fear of the highway real darn fast. It was not at all how my wolfman wanted to initiate me into this, he had hoped to gradually ease me into the long rides and the less than fun weather conditions and high speeds. Oh well, it was a baptism by fire for me and I did not complain once.
Then when it was the chapter up date, I added 300 miles to my biker chick resume, in the rain. At least this time it was on the back of my man’s bike with him. I slept in a tent etc, but I covered that.
This past weekend a friend of my wolfman was getting married….in lower Alabama. 700 miles one way. The plan had been to ride down over a two day run, but it was SO cold and already 11pm when we got on the road that we just stayed in a hotel and did the 700 miles in one shot, one day. And to think my ex-husband wouldn’t ride to Gatlinburg because he didn’t think I could handle the 300 mile trip. BA HA HA HA HA HA! In 3 trips I’ve racked up 2550 miles on baby’s Harley over 3 weekends. I’ve ridden at 95mph, rode in the rain, cold (VERY cold), and even once told my honey to just smoke the idiot in the car next to us that was playing speed games. And again I never complain. I ride with hair messed up from both helmet and non-helmet states. I even got tired and figured out how to sleep back there without falling off. He told me I am definitely a hard-core biker babe. I LOVE it. I LOVE riding and the elements just don’t matter to me.
Okay now back to the marriage thing. YES I AM getting married. I know I said it would never happen at one point, and up until recently had been posting reasons to be single. That was before the biker entered my life in a way he had not before. With a sledge hammer, knocking down the walls to my heart’s garden from the inside out. We were holding off until July, but now we might just move it up and do it in June.
These will be my engagement and wedding bands. Pink sapphire, since it is my favorite color, and rose gold setting, since that is pink gold. I LOVE these. He has Cherokee and Celtic heritage so the Celtic knot was my idea. :)
You may recall that last October I went camping…for the first time in a few decades. I grew up traveling this country by way of camp grounds. I loved it, love the memories, but truly HATE to camp. The Count convinced me to camp this past October, and it actually wasn’t bad! However, I had no desire really to do it again, it would simply have been a family tradition of his so I would have gone along. Thankfully he ditched me.
*Squirrel moment* (that means an ADD driven side thought) – BEST thing the ex-husband, Mr. Wonderful, and the Count did for me was toss me aside. I’d have not known what it was like to be with The Biker otherwise. I have landed such an awesome man now. One who has shown me what weak individuals the Count and all others before him. He encourages me to be ME and loves my very strong personality.
This past weekend I once again found myself on the back of the bike, only this time in the cold and RAIN. Yes, the Marvelous princess rode in the rain this time, well over 100 miles. These guys are 1%ers, hardcore bikers, they ride in the rain. And then…we camped. On the property of another chapter’s club house we pitched tents and campers, and I found out what hypothermia feels like. It was flipping C-O-L-D despite the blankets etc. and I was sleeping alone until about 5am. My legs were cramped from cold, especially when I suddenly had to pee. I nearly gave up trying to pull my boots on to go outside. When I came back it was no better.
The best part? I HAD A FREAKING BLAST! Rain and cold, so what? I spent a good deal of time that night hanging in the club house with the other women, and I might have had a few shots. Actually, okay, I DID, it was anti-freeze you could say, against the coming cold sleeping in a tent. I got a tad out of control at one point, but my honey didn’t handle it the way old Lord Voldemort would have. He pulled me aside, and quietly, lovingly, told me that I needed to dial it down a bit, it wasn’t acceptable in the current location. I was mortified to think I had done anything that would reflect badly on him, darn near cried in fact. But he was all gentleness and love, reassuring me I was fine, and that any other location I could be crazy like I had been. Just not here and not now. The near tears were about more than feeling I disappointed him (which he says not at all) it was also the gentleness of his voice and touch when talking to me. I am not at all used to that. He is not a small man, but a very gentle giant, and that much tenderness shown to me took me apart inside. If you piss him off then heaven help you, but he isn’t easily angered by me at all. In fact he tends to laugh and find my fits entertaining. Unlike the ex-hubby, I can flip off my Biker and he smiles. He doesn’t find it insulting or disrespectful because he knows I’m being funny, he thinks I’m cute as hell when I do it, often replying to it with “who loves ya baby?”.
If it calls me ‘Beautiful’ once, he says it a few dozen times a day!
I am soaking it all up like a sponge as one very starved for true love and REAL affection.
Hopefully, we keep this camping thing to a minimum.
Moobs are man dinners, or man boobs. I like that, very amused by the word. Show me your moobies and I’ll throw ya some beads!
I was also attacked today by a dryer sheet. Yes as in the fabric softener sheets you put in the dryer. See, I do not wear underwear/panties. I know I know, OMG WTF TMI!!!!! I hate them. I’ve spent a good portion of my life picking the darn things out of the crack of my rump, so as I have NO reason whatsoever to wear them (sorry grandma but I’m thinking if having clean drillies on when I’m in an accident is a thrill for some paramedic or ER staff member, then NO panties would be a bigger one), I don’t.
Today I am watching 5 kids because I missed my 3 little ones I used to babysit and as it is spring break at the 7yo’s school, I thought it would be fun. I’m off my rails like that. While moving around taking care of the 3 small ones (the 7yo’s are off doing their thing), I kept feeling like something was crawling around between my butt and my jeans. Finally, while sorting laundry (yes I multitask), I slid my hand down between the waist in the rear and pulled out…..a dryer sheet. Seriously. I have NO idea if it slipped down from my sweat shirt, or if it was in the jeans when I pulled them on. Thankfully it didn’t make it’s way down to be sticking out of the leg of my jeans when the tow truck was here to get my car (another story for another post) as that would have been super embarrassing.
My darling baby girl informed me last night that I’m grounded.
She sent me a text while I happened to be out with The Biker, because her mama forgot to take care of something for her this weekend. I forgot a lot of little details thanks to smacking my head on the pavement. *NO, dear Biker, it was NOT the shots of tequila…though they may have contributed to my rather poor dismount from the back of the bike which resulted in the close encounter with the blacktop.* She was not impressed that she had been left out of the information loop and hadn’t been told of the small concussion over the weekend. She informed me that I am grounded. She is so cute and amusing. I probably SHOULD be grounded as I’m running on fumes at the moment, not acting like I have a brain in my head.
SO being grounded (yeah, right, and try pinning down the wind), I guess today I will work on some posts. I know you are excited!
The life of an Avon Lady is NEVER boring. Well mine isn’t, but then I’m hardly ordinary so of course it would be extraordinary for me. Now pair me with my sister, and fellow Avon rep, and well things will always be interesting.
Monday we cruised out with a car loaded down with Avon brochures, each inside a plastic bag, then rolled and rubber banded. We toss them in driveways, just like the newspaper and the weekly store ads. It has proven quite effective as we always gain a few new customers. Generally we toss the same neighborhood 3 times then move to a new one. Anyone who calls in an order is considered a customer and we will then place the books on their doors. This time I had a few boxes of left over brochures so we hit the neighborhood I grew up in. We tossed them all and headed home.
We use this method to distribute the brochures because we toss roughly 700-1000 per campaign between the two of us, all within 2 hours or less. To walk door to door and hang that many would take a week.
Later that day I received a phone call from a gentleman that asked if this was the Marti that is the Avon lady. While he would not give me his name, I know who he is because he provided his address. He asked me to stop throwing my garbage in his driveway. I calmly apologized for any inconvenience and promised not to ever do this again, and would add him to our ”do throw list”. He seemed to want to push the complaint end with me a bit so I listened politely and again apologized.
Today as we were headed out to work this Wild and Wacky Wednesday recruit-a-thon, my district manager lets me know she heard from the man too. This man first texts her and then calls her to inform her that the head of the neighborhood block watch there has me on video tape throwing my brochures in drive ways and that they have called the Better Business Bureau, the City, the Police, and he might call the paper. Oh and of course he called to complain to Avon and that is how he was able to get my district managers number. REALLY?????? ARE WE SERIOUS? Oh. My. Gawd. Pick up the damn thing and throw it in the trash if you don’t want it! You asked me on the phone, I very politely and professionally agreed to never bother you again. Next thing you know Crime Stoppers will be featuring the video tape of me throwing Avon brochures in the driveways of potential customers. BAAAA HAAAA HAAAAAA! Well, we believe in “go for the no” and I would imagine that is about as “NO” as it gets. In a world so full of pain and serious issues…war, cancer, child abuse, poverty…you seriously complain about one lousy brochure? Amazingly small minded individual. Maybe he would prefer I go on welfare and he can support me?
This rattled my brain so much today that over lunch with my sister, while waiting for our afternoon recruit appointments, I ended up laying my notes in my cole slaw, and then my tarter sauce from my Big Boy sandwich. Unbelievable.
OH, on a positive note, that same area where Mr. Self Appointed Crime Prevention lives…well I gained 2 new customers, and a new recruit to my team. I did warn her NOT to leave her brochures at his home. He gets his boxers all knotted up over it.
I’m a total, social media addict. Well assuming it is a free app, I won’t pay to be virtually social. I use:
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Yahoo IM
Foursquare
GetGlue
HeyTell
I know I know, I’m leaving myself wide open for some boogie man. You know, if the boogie man is after me, he will find me anyway. I have friends who are very private souls and cannot understand the need to inform the free world where I am every time I change locations. It’s a game. Real people, better than life-like action figures, doing real things. I’m the star of my favorite REALity show, it’s all part of who I am and living my life before the world as an open book. Besides, I don’t tell all, there IS a directors cut. I’m the director and I have some secrets and things not shared.
It is a game in that me and my sister compete for mayorship of various places on Foursquare. We’ve taken things to the extreme and check into bed at night. Me in “My Big Comfy Bed”, her over in ‘The Sandman’s Headquarters”. I stole mayorship of her bed one night just being funny. She found that creepy. She decided the rule is you must be IN the location, not standing near it, to check in. My sister-in-law stole off with the mayorship of the local Walgreen’s. I created a location for my Avon office, my daycare and my room. Hey it’s all about checking in!
Sunday evening my brother found it amusing that sis and I checked in to the deck out back. He asked if we checked into the bathroom too. This sparked 2 new locations, The Princess Palace Upper and Lower Throne Rooms. Sis quickly layed down the law: You cannot just step in and check in, you have to be using the facilities or doing your hair to check in there. I am currently the proud mayor of the lower throne room. I know I know, we’re ridiculous.
MY life is one big slumber party. I just realized that laying in bed this morning debating getting up. I really have a great, FUN life!
For years, while married, I was just a tiny bit envious at times of my baby sister. I had a great life, good marriage, fantastic husband, great kids, nice house with a pool and hot tub, nice cars etc. We weren’t rich but we certainly were comfortably blessed. I had a great job, good medical insurance, and my husband could fix just about anything that broke or needed tweaking. There was a very sweet contentment in my life. Don’t get me wrong, it was not perfect by any stretch but I honestly had little I could complain about. At the top of the hill, when all was ‘good’ or so I thought, my sister had one thing I did not have….mom. She and her two girls were living with my mom.
I think I can safely speak for all of my siblings when I say we are close to my mom. For myself, I talked to her just about every day if not on the phone, via text. I was raised by a mom that had a father who taught the value of family. My gramps was the best in my opinion. He taught all of us growing up that no matter what we lost in life, if we had our family we had everything. I would learn that lesson many times over starting in my teens. Family doesn’t have to agree with you, in fact they’ll often be the first to tell you what an idiot you are, but they still stand behind you and love you through support. Or they should. If they don’t, I honestly think you might want to trade them in for a new one. Too bad you cannot do that!
Long ago it used to be quite the norm as the kids came along, grandma and grandpa were close by, if not living with one of their children, taking care of the little ones. Families farmed, or held jobs ‘in town’. There were no daycare centers and moms worked at home. And it was work! Everything was done by hand in the old days. Grandma and grandpa helped out and families were much closer geographically as a means of survival. Kids KNEW they grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Sure, many will make remarks now about “Oh, he is 53 and lives with his mother…” and I think, yeah? So??? Maybe it is necessary for both to have a comfortable life, or maybe he is a mama’s boy and a loser. Whatever the story he is fortunate enough to still share life with his mom. And that is how I viewed my sister. She had a fantastic job, made great money, and she got to share life with my mom. I know, it was not all coming up roses, the girls were teens and 4 females under one roof spells DRAMA anyway you slice it.
2 years ago I was spending every available moment over at my mom’s house with her, my sister and my nieces. I was about a month into accepting that my husband wanted out off the marriage and the plan was for me to move out. In hind sight there are a few things I would change about my divorce agreement…like since he was getting ALL the toys, the house, pool, hot tub etc, that he took ALL of the debt. I had no way to see down the road that I’d end up laid off from another job and the other company would go under, and that finding work in this economy is damn near impossible. My credit is shot to hell because I just cannot quite make ends meet at the moment, having lost 3 of the little ones I was babysitting because I don’t (and won’t) take vouchers. It sucks. But I’m hijacking my blog, back on topic. The Divas had determined I was moving in with them, and the hunt had transpired for a house suited to all 5 of us. Who knew the second house we looked at was our dream house. It was one of those that, had I gotten bored and went a looked at houses while happily married, I would have wanted a reason to own it, it is such a cool house. So, 2 years ago today we were all sitting around mom’s table on a Sunday afternoon just dreaming that all the pieces were going to fall into place and we’d get the house. And we did!
Fast forward and welcome to our ongoing slumber party.
No one that heard what our plan was thought this had a chance of working out, but inside me somewhere I knew it would. Maybe it was the one night 2 years ago when I left my mom’s to go home (I had to text them when I was in safely), and when I was crawling into my bed, the big one I had shared with hubby that I now slept in alone, I was sad and lonely until I received a text from my youngest niece. It said, “Don’t lose your green card, we want you back!”. It made me laugh and cry all at the same time. I felt wanted at a time when I was feeling humiliated, rejected and worthless.
The past 2 years in this house (our 2 year anniversary of the official establishment of the Diva Den/Estrogen Central is 5/1/12) has been FUN! Really, most days we laugh a LOT. Laughter is healing, trust me on this. I noticed there is an over all JOY in this house. My daughter loves coming over to visit because she laughs til her mascara is running down her cheeks. Drama happens, but very, very rarely. I’ve lost my temper, sure, 3 times. Once with my sister, twice with my niece. That tells me something when I know the number of times. It may sound like a lot until you break it down, that in 630 days, give or take a few, I’ve lost my cool 3 times. The two nieces are good for driving each other bonkers and some drama, but not often and usually not much at all. Mostly, this house, this HOME, is filled with JOY. We all love the house itself, it just is awesome. And we all enjoy each other.
We stay up late some nights, like little girls at a sleep over, watching TV, talking and laughing. We enjoy mornings on the weekends of extended coffee drinking with bed-head and jammies. We support each other, hug each other, eat meals together, break into song and dance together, tease each other, and laugh together, a LOT. We help each other, cry together over chick flick moments on TV, encourage or discourage each other as needed, and help each other out when money is tight. A need was there that turned out to be the greatest of blessings. When I was shattered emotionally and mentally at the end of the marriage, I was wrapped in the protective love of the women in my family. I was able to heal with on site support. We’re the true “girls next door” and we’re one big ole laughing, good time!
And the best part is that I get to live with my mom. I’m not embarrassed to say it at all, I am about to turn 49 in 88 or so days, and I live with my mom. And my sister and one of my nieces (one has since moved out on her own to be closer to school and work). I get to tap into her wisdom, live, laugh and love with her, and enjoy moments that I’d have never had if my life and not taken the turn it did 2 years ago. I’m not content, I AM HAPPY!
Here is a little treat, what happened in the middle of playing Farkle on Christmas night at the Diva Den. Featuring my sister, nieces, and my daughter. It is pretty typical of the fun we have on a daily basis (mostly without the beer). A song comes on and suddenly everyone has a spontaneous sing along. Though we don’t often need the song on the radio, we just kinda break into song because our life is like a very bizarre musical some days:
My sister-in-law, Trina, refers to those nights when you just cannot sleep as a vampire night. Menopause seems to bring with it an entire phase of nights of the living dead. It is just stupid ridiculous. Lately, that is right where I am too, awake far more than I am asleep and getting paler by the day (thanks to not tanning for several years now), and with this short crop of spiky, auburn hair I’m looking the part too.
If that isn’t bad enough I’m starting on round 4 of some sort of cold type bug that leaves one coughing, sneezing like it’s my job and I’m working on a bonus check, and just feeling run down. This not sleeping crap along with it makes for a tired Marvelous one. The only thing that really works over night is Mucinex DM, which when I do sleep gives me off the wall nightmares. Like last night’s, for example. In one I was married again, to the ex-husband. Not sure who that would be the true nightmare for, since he released me to pursue a better opportunity. He DID repair my car in the dream, but I won’t go any further down that road. I also had a wretched nightmare that I was married to The Count. Being married to him is, quite frankly, more frightening to ponder than being again bound to the ex husband. I’d far rather be back with my ex, if forced to chose, than the hell that would be in living as the wife of that control freak. And in the dream, or rather vivid nightmare, he was indeed a living hell. I woke from my sleep both times wishing that this medication that is so good at hitting my symptoms didn’t come with such a crappy side effect.
I slept, over all, 10 hours last night. I did wake up a few times but was able to drift back to scary dream land fairly easily. Exhaustion will do that, though hopefully it simply means my latest vampire phase is over for now. Meanwhile I have again purchased a ticket on the Dreams From The Darkness Express for tonight. Lucky me. I should have interesting tales to share that my subconscious weaves through the night.
This all brought back to me the fact that I had stumbled on an old Facebook ID I used for playing Vampire Wars. I needed more team members but didn’t want to let every Tom, Dick and Harry on my friend’s list so I had a bogus ID just for games. The only ‘blond’ avatar option in the game had long blond hair. I had short, spiky blond so I didn’t care for it and made my character the auburn look. Now? That fits me perfectly as the hair looks a good deal like mine. How dang appropriate! So, as I head off on the nightmare train, hopefully I will find restful sleep and not be back in my vampire phase tonight. But just in case, here is the look I’d be sporting if I were among the ‘undead’ of the night.
First – I’ve changed the 365 Reasons Being Single Rocks to simply Reasons Being Single Rocks. Not that I cannot come up with 365, there are 365 days in a year, 366 this year, and every day I have a reason why I am glad I am single! But I don’t always have time to post so it’s better to be able to not keep it to a post a day. But don’t worry I have plenty more coming that will likely exceed 365 as time goes on.
That book, Crazy Time, is awesome! The more I read the more I see how normal I was throughout the entire process, and how I’m not quite at the end of things just yet. It has been such a help and supportive to me in my decision to not date this whole year.
My car is…well I don’t know to be honest. At the moment a choice selection of obscenities comes to mind but that won’t fix anything. And I’m no mechanic. Seeings as how the ex husband released me to move on to another opportunity*, and I have no desire any longer to pursue another opportunity, my car is going to be sitting there for a bit. I have no idea what is wrong with it and don’t really have time or the funds at the moment to mess with it.
The auto issue IS a sticky one, as I was about to start working part time an evening or two a week for a friend in their office catching up their filing that is well very behind and some other miscellaneous office work. As I lack the transportation to get there…yeah. FAIL! However this simply means the Lord has something better in mind for me so I’m thanking Him now for that lost opportunity and waiting on what He has in store.
Meanwhile I’m waiting for my fangs to grow. I am having such a difficult time with sleep lately. I go to bed exhausted, sleep deep, then wake up a few hours later, in the middle of the night, and cannot get back to sleep. When I finally do drift off I’m not snoozing deeply and wake up over and over every 20 minutes or so. My sister-in-law, Trina, refers to these as our vampire phases. If I’m going to go through a vampire phase, then I want my fangs and the very cool, sexy black clothing. It’s only fair.
My “One Word” for this year is JOY. Finding JOY in all things, God first and every person and situation in my life. Believe it or not, I just kinda rolled with it when the car became an issue. WOW, really? Okay whatever, next! I amaze even myself at the way I am rolling with the punches.
I signed a new recruit today, that excited me a great deal. My goal is to have 100 in my first generation of my down-line by the end of this year. I currently have 14 with this recruit. 28 total in my 3 generations but I want 100 in the first. It means I have a lot of work to do. I need to sign 5 recruits per campaign between now and the end of the year, and really more than that as some will drop off. SO if you are thinking about becoming an Avon representative, now is a great time to contact me! Even if you are not in the area, I can still sign you up on my team and train you no matter where you are, thanks to technology!
My son is getting married in just over a month, I still have to find a dress (don’t panic anyone, can you say resale shop or rental? yes I mean that). I have to fund half of the rehearsal dinner too, a little more difficult as I have no sugar daddy but I’ll manage it. Meanwhile feel free to help a sister out and buy some Avon! Seriously it does help me a lot. If you are local (within the 275 loop) I’ll gladly deliver! Others enjoy the opportunity to shop with me online! Your business is very much appreciated.
Has anyone seen my Fairy God-Mother? She is obviously incompetent and I have her pink slip waiting for her.
Guess if I want something done right, I’m going to have to slap on my tiara and wings and go do it myself!
*I must thank my Avon idol, Lisa Wilber, for that description of divorce, it cracks me up and sounds so much nicer than saying that the *&^%$# booted this princess from the castle.
Yesterday I started getting caught up on my reading. I’ve only about 50 books added to my Kindle that are waiting for me to read them. Mostly business related items, like Napoleon Hill’s Think And Grow Rich. It is one of the most recommended books by very successful direct marketers so I’m reading it. But I took a break from it to start a recommended book on divorce, Crazy Time -Surviving Divorce And Building A New Life by Abigail Trafford. Sadly that one is not available on Kindle so I’m having to read it the old fashioned way, and from the library. But I am hooked in it and finding things that really do make sense as to why my marriage failed. And my brother’s marriage…and every other marriage I know of that has ended. Affairs are only symptoms, which I knew, of the issues within the marriage, like the deadlock power struggle.
It has made me sit back and really look again at what went wrong. I’ve admitted before, I am a strong personality and a force to be reckoned with if I’m pissed off. In the past I was good for firing off with both barrels and a back up round and leaving emotional and mental debris scattered around me. I also, as my ex pointed out to me in a text last night, always had to be right. No matter what, to the point of raising my voice to talk over someone to prove I was right. Frankly, pretty often though not always, I was right. But that isn’t the point, the point is I really did have some issues. Thanks to Lexapro I see that more clearly. However it does not mean that I don’t express disdain, dislike, and flat out hatred. It just means that I can now do that without ripping out someone’s jugular to do it. Now, I can let you know precisely how I feel, in a calm, even very quiet tone of voice, minus the mean and hateful words, and all with a smile on my face.
I took a DISC assessment personality test sometime back when my sister was still working for a local company. I learned what I probably already knew, I’m a dominant personality, a D-I per this test. Dominance with Influence to be exact. Here is the general breakdown per Wikipedia (my characteristics are changed to red font to make a point):
quote:
The assessments classify four aspects of behavior by testing a person’s preferences in word associations (compare with Myers-Briggs Type Indicator). DISC is an acronym for:
Dominance – relating to control, power and assertiveness
Influence – relating to social situations and communication
Steadiness (submission in Marston’s time) – relating to patience, persistence, and thoughtfulness
Compliance[2] (or caution, compliance in Marston’s time) – relating to structure and organization
These four dimensions can be grouped in a grid with “D” and “I” sharing the top row and representing extroverted aspects of the personality, and “C” and “S” below representing introverted aspects. “D” and “C” then share the left column and represent task-focused aspects, and “I” and “S” share the right column and represent social aspects. In this matrix, the vertical dimension represents a factor of “Assertive” or “Passive”, while the horizontal dimension represents “Open” vs. “Guarded”.[3]
Dominance: People who score high in the intensity of the “D” styles factor are very active in dealing with problems and challenges, while low “D” scores are people who want to do more research before committing to a decision. High “D” people are described as demanding, forceful, egocentric, strong willed, driving, determined, ambitious, aggressive, and pioneering. Low D scores describe those who are conservative, low keyed, cooperative, calculating, undemanding, cautious, mild, agreeable, modest and peaceful.
Influence:People with high “I” scores influence others through talking and activity and tend to be emotional. They are described as convincing, magnetic, political, enthusiastic, persuasive, warm, demonstrative, trusting, and optimistic. Those with low “I” scores influence more by data and facts, and not with feelings. They are described as reflective, factual, calculating, skeptical, logical, suspicious, matter of fact, pessimistic, and critical.
Steadiness: People with high “S” styles scores want a steady pace, security, and do not like sudden change. High “S” individuals are calm, relaxed, patient, possessive, predictable, deliberate, stable, consistent, and tend to be unemotional and poker faced. Low “S” intensity scores are those who like change and variety. People with low “S” scores are described as restless, demonstrative, impatient, eager, or even impulsive.
Compliance: People with high “C” styles adhere to rules, regulations, and structure. They like to do quality work and do it right the first time. High “C” people are careful, cautious, exacting, neat, systematic, diplomatic, accurate, and tactful. Those with low “C” scores challenge the rules and want independence and are described as self-willed, stubborn, opinionated, unsystematic, arbitrary, and unconcerned with details.
end quote
When I first took this test I admit I wasn’t really happy with the outcome. That D part of me doesn’t exactly sound flattering. But then over time I came to embrace it…it is after all who I am. One cannot change that about themselves. But what I can do is learn to channel those things more carefully by being aware of my personality strengths. And they are strengths. I’m very open and assertive, which is why I dislike the term survivor being applied to me in anyway, I am NOT a passive individual. And I am proud of that.
The trouble with us DI types is that we tend to bowl over others to reach our goals. We don’t mean to hurt anyone but it happens because we ARE driven and aggressive. I’m learning to dig my heels in with my mouth shut but it will take time. I think the ex thinks taking a pill is going to CHANGE my personality and make me some kind of Glinda the good witch, all fairy godmother like, or Melanie Hamilton. Sorry sweetie, but I am who I am. No pill is going to do that. I’m a good person, with a heart of gold, but I when I want something I push until I get it. He wanted a Melanie Hamilton, but married Scarlett O’Hara.
Back to the book. It talks about the fact that there needs to be a seesaw of control/dominance in the marriage, a partnership. But people tend to deadlock. We did that. Let me quote the book:
quote
“Take a good look at the breakup of your marriage. There’s a pattern here. You think your crisis has to do with right and wrong, villains and witches. That’s how you feel. You want justice, revenge-and your bones ache with guilt. Look again. It’s reassuring to discover there’s a pattern in breaking up, a Deadlock imperative to how relationships crumble.
What is striking to many family therapists is that it is the submissive partner who usually becomes the deceiver; the dominant spouse the denier. As the submissive spouse on the way to independence, you go outside the marriage and build up strength-and courage-to equalize the relationship. Like a Samson, who has finally grown some hair, you become assertive and rebel. The classic act of revolt is the marriage-breaking affair; initiating the divorce is a final act of defiance. You are the deceiver, the Divorce Seeker.
If you’re the dominant partner, you try through denial to hold on to some lost dream kingdom of marriage. That’s how you keep control. You don’t recognize the symptoms of change in the other spouse-the signals of dispair and rebellion……You seem taken by surprise: I can’t believe this. I thought the marriage was basically good. My spouse must be crazy”
end quote
THAT right there is my marriage. He is no villain, and despite what he’d say, I’m no witch. We were deadlocked. We never did have a partnership, there was no equalizing us. Interestingly enough, per the book, people switch roles in other relationships. I’d venture to say he is the dominant now. If he is smart he will learn to balance the power, switching between her and him as NEEDED. I see it in my most recent relationship, I had slipped easily in to a more submissive role to his dominance. However when push came to shove, he wasn’t bending. In 5 months it was a power deadlock already. I dodged a bullet that time. Now? Well as I go through this book I will be seeking information and learning. I need to find a partner, someone who can balance the power with me, an equal. Someone who has been through this sort of thing. Someone who can understand that their way isn’t the only way to achieve an end, and one that I can trust when I need them to take the control, but who isn’t going to tell me my choice or idea is stupid because it doesn’t happen to line up with their own.
For now I am happy alone. Frankly, I think I am about the happiest I have ever been in my life! I’m not entirely sure I care to ever have to seesaw things. The longer I’ve been divorced the more I’m determined that I don’t need anyone. I’m a complete person in my own right. I can have a friend with benefits when I need that, but remain single and happy. I CAN have my cake and eat it too.
I’ll let you know what I learn as I continue through this book, and so far I highly recommend it to anyone that has been married and divorced, including my ex, he might be surprised to learn it wasn’t all my fault. But right now it’s all about ME and learning about fixing me. My ex spouses and significant others are some other woman’s mess to contend with now. (THANK GOD!)
I am probably the only person I know who has not tried sushi. Never really had any desire or interest to eat it, mostly because I’m really anal about being able to identify what I am looking at on my plate prior to it going from fork to mouth. Or in this case chopsticks to tongue. Until today. Today I received a text from my daughter wanting to know what I was doing, if I had eaten lunch, and if not would I want to run out and have lunch, her treat. I don’t often turn down a free meal if it is close to home.
She took me to a Thai and Asian place nearby for sushi. She did ask ahead of time if I’d be willing to try it, and today she caught me in my more adventurous mode where food is concerned. I broadened my horizons and said sure why not. I do pride myself in being willing to step out of my comfort zone from time to time and try something new. I have rules for food, like I won’t consume anything that is staring back at me or looks like it can get up and leave my plate all on its own. The Super Hero introduced me to frog legs, which in my defense the little legs don’t look like they can leave the plate as they are no longer connected to the frog. I admit that one was a bit tough to keep the stomach from lurching as the brain tried to think about anything but what I was chewing on. Yes, they DO taste like chicken, though a bit more rubbery. However I did like them. Mr. Wonderful introduced me to goat curry and that was also rather tasty, not to mention easier to get in my mouth as it looked a lot like pork.
Sushi is just confusing to me, SO many choices and I’m a total newbie to this so my daughter did the ordering for us both. Then she showed me how to use the chop sticks while we waited. That was fun! And I was able to master it well enough not to drop my food into the little dishes of soy sauce, so no splash disasters. I did get a bit carried away though playing with the sticks, chasing the air like a monster, spreading the chopsticks saying “big mouth” then putting them closer and saying “little mouth”, making her laugh and nearly choke on her food. Bad mommy.
I cannot say I thought it was all outstanding, but some, a Yum Yum roll, was pretty good. The California roll was tasty too, and the Shrimp Tempura. I’ll eat it again and expand my sushi horizons into other rolls as time goes on. It was a fun time with my baby girl, and another great memory together.
I’m coming off of an interesting weekend, one that left me somewhat shocked but also confirmed my beliefs about a situation and the misery it would have actually brought to me. I am a person that doesn’t handle it well when someone is upset with me. If I have made someone angry or hurt them, I’m obsessed with trying to fix that and make it better. And I am a person that needs closure on things to move past them, real closure. I don’t give up easily without doing all I can to right a wrong. Keep in mind I am very bull headed and stubborn, being born under the sign of Taurus and while this digging in my heals and refusing to budge can be good in achieving goals, on the negative side that trait can mean it takes me a while to go admit my wrong and try to mend a broken fence. So if there is fencing down between me and you, give it time I’ll make an attempt to fix it and if we cannot work together to reconstruct that which has been broken, I will then seek to find closure.
If you have been following my Dating Diaries you know that The Count and I split in mid December. It was the final heartbreak for me for a long time to come, I just cannot handle it anymore and need to focus on ME for a while. Not to say that things won’t change but I learned never say never long ago! I know I boxed him up and put him on the shelf. But the damn packing tape wouldn’t stick. That told me I still had some lose ends hanging out that needed addressing. Not the least of which is I hate when I don’t know why something failed, especially a relationship. I wanted to talk to him to find out what went wrong so I could fix that if it was something with me that needs fixing. So I sent a text asking if we could talk. No answer, big surprise there (read with sarcastic tone). So I followed that up with a text that I could stop by the store. WHOA that was a mistake. I received the following back in a text:
I am not dealing with you in any way, shape or form. Do not show up at my store or a restraining order will be got by me on you. I want to make it clear, there’s nothing to discuss, no reason to meet and anything further will be considered stalking and I will proceed to the restraining order!
I have had one restraining order taken out against me, it was during my divorce from my first husband, the violent man that was an alcoholic. I had threatened to break into the house and paint the living room ceiling black with orange polka dots. It was an ugly time and I was out of line to make a threat like that, because frankly I don’t know what I was thinking, the polka dots would have been PINK not orange. Anyway I don’t need or want another one issued for me. I’ve not been stalking Steve, in fact I’ve not sent a single text in a month, I was hoping to give him some space to think things through then maybe we could sit down like adults and talk. Silly me.
So, after receiving that text I went back to look over things thoroughly myself. Remember the list of Pros and Cons I had written regarding our relationship? Well I went back and reviewed those with a now far less emotional mindset. I could and should add a few things. Frankly he is a complete asshole to his mother, I was gentle with that then but if that is how I’d be treated (and I firmly believe the way a man treats his mother is a good indication of what is to come for you in a relationship), we’d have come to blows. Oh that likely would happen too, seeings as in his past he has a little domestic violence charge because he found his first wife in bed with someone and tossed the guy through a window and punched her in the face causing some damage.
Add into that the fact that he didn’t want me to dye my hair a different color, no more tattoos because that was ‘littering your body with ink’, and a host of other little things that I would not do, he did not approve of etc etc etc and I see a short fused CONTROL FREAK that would keep my free spirited nature caged up again. Nope this would NOT work at all.
Back when things fell apart I was really confused. I had assumed, since he deleted me from his Facebook and then wouldn’t respond to texts or phone calls (the day after telling me he loved me and thanking me for my patience because he was working so much), that we must be done, over, no more a couple. This is the text I received finally back then explaining things:
When u post things on facebook or ur friends do my grandson can see all of it. And with that said I had some issues with the dear diary thing, then ur friends post of the topless woman protest on wall street the thecheerleader kicking with a stain in her white shorts. I was mad and told jadon to defriend u and I did the same thinking he still might be able to see it. he doesn’t need to see or read that kind of stuff, and he goes to his friends house and logs on too to which I don’t need someone else mad at me on posts I had nothing to do with. So I did what I did and see that u assumed the worst so I need to step back and rethink the entire thing.
That was the last communication I had with him until the restraining order threat. Now, the ‘dear diary’ thing is my blog. And he knew all about the blog and told me he didn’t care what I posted on it, it was mine and I could talk about me and him or whatever, it didn’t matter, that was my thing and he was supportive. I guess he really did have issues with it? Most likely because I am so honest about myself on it. Like about my past life prior to him, being a swinger etc etc. Guessing he didn’t want his family to know that he had a girlfriend with a colorful past. Silly me, then open your mouth and say something. It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing, my blog is MY outlet, my inner self and I write what I want and won’t be told not too. Obviously he also doesn’t have a clue about blogging if he called it a ‘dear diary thing’. Oh and the grandson, is 12 years old. Gramps there better get a clue that kid has likely seen worse. And it isn’t my job to police others kids on Facebook. My kids are adults and I wasn’t really thinking in the Disney mode of posting anymore.
My sister stopped in to purchase a ham during the holidays and they talked about me and him a bit. When she asked him what he would assume if I had removed him from Facebook and then wouldn’t respond to texts of phone calls for a few days what he would have thought, he agreed, he would have assumed we were done, and that I hadn’t “assumed the worst” any more than he would have. He seemed to see things very differently that day and said he was going to call me that night. He then gave her one hell of a discount on the ham (guilt?). I never heard from him.
After retracing things, rethinking certain disapproving looks, remarks, out and out “no you won’t”, “If you are going to be a part of this family you better…”, and in light of the above…closure I can now have. I would have been miserable had that continued. I was in yet another relationship with a man that was mean spirited and controlling, and I was blind to it from the familiar dance steps for years and years past.
Yes, the box is now taped to stay with super glue just in case I have a weak moment. And I’ve seen that my decision to spend this year relationship free is a very good thing. I need to break the cycle of attraction to men that are controlling assholes. I need a man with a strong personality, but that isn’t the same as a little mini-dictator that has to control others.
One of my goals for 2012 is to get to church every week. So far it is one big FAIL. I really want to go, and go back to my home church. It is where I felt at home before I went cruising down a road on which I did not belong. It was where the prodigal daughter that I am, went back too. But I cannot bring myself to go again. I do not WANT to go else where, I really loved my church and church family. It’s just harder than I thought.
I know that others judging me is not a valid reason to stay away, but if you had been walking beside me the 6 years I was away from the right path, maybe you would understand. Better yet if you had walked that mile in MY shoes, you’d maybe have a clue and not be so quick to judge. It always amazes me how easy it is for others to pass judgement on someone else when they aren’t in that situation, and they have few details.
In life I am one of those that is very much a “oh yeah? watch me!” type when someone tells me I cannot or should not do something. And I am a woman that if I’m going to do something, REALLY do something, right or wrong, I will give it all I have, I don’t do it half assed. Especially when it comes to making mistakes. Bad choices, bad ideas, big mistakes, out right sinful behavior. If I am going to do something I see no reason not to DO something.
The road I went down had a lot of turn offs, rest areas and ‘entertainment’ spots. I hit everyone of those with gusto. That road is a dark one, through the sinful pit. I’ve done things I’d never admit on this blog, and in a counseling situation I’d have a hard time coming clean. It is stuff, suffice to say, that would curl your hair. I didn’t like where I was, and it made me an unhappy and very angry person. You’re a sinner too? Yes I know. One of those that cast a stone my way was pregnant in high school and got married. I was pregnant in high school and gave the baby up for adoption. Let a few curse words fly? Big deal, me too, I can make a trucker blush in 8 vibrant shades of red. Believe me, the sins I’ve committed would make your halo look damn shiny next to mine. Believe me, I look at the story of the prodigal son in scripture and think “really? dude I can top that..all of it” and I wonder, would there be rejoicing if I came clean to those standing in judgement, now that I turned away from all of it? Party hard and kill the fatted calf because the prodigal daughter has returned? You’d be too busy picking your jaw up off the floor at what I confessed to think about a party.
It took a heck of a lot for me to pull myself to church and walk through those doors. So many were unaware that I knew what they had said to others about me. The same people that couldn’t wait for their kids to get into the elementary kid’s group under me and the ex’s teaching were the same one’s bad mouthing us when we left about “lacked evidence of fruit in their lives”. God’s people, passing judgement and GOSSIPING about someone not there, never imagining I’d hear it or return ‘home’. But I did, and with everything in me I went back. Then struggles began again. I managed to not stroll down that road again, but let me tell you it was hard not too. The people on that road embrace you, support you and do all they can to make you feel welcome there. I knew that at least I’d have acceptance. But still, I stayed off that path.
During many struggles to try to keep going, I had posted the lyrics to a few songs by P!nk. I LOVE the songs because they speak to me. Heck no, I don’t believe she is a christian. Then again, I cannot judge her by her music. It speaks to me because it tells of where she has been herself, which in SOME areas seems to be similar. I know the songs have foul language in them, but when you are trying to convey how bad something is/was sometimes that language makes the point, impacts the reader or listener like it can’t without it.
In my head I know that I’m forgiven, I know that I’m not seen by God on my own, but through my Savior’s blood which delivers me white as snow. But I also know what I did, it makes it hard to believe I could be forgiven, loved or that I am at all loveable. I am not discounting what was done for me on the cross, but it is at times very hard for me to accept. Then when sisters and brothers in the Lord start heaving stones my way, accusing me of promoting a singer or songs that are not “christian”, it only furthers my belief that I am not loveable, that I’ve crossed too many lines. That doesn’t make me want to go to church, it makes me want to run from the judging souls there. They get all hung up on the language and the artist rather than LISTEN to the words, FEEL what is being sung, understand that I’ve been there, done that and the song carries meaning for me because of my life experiences. I wasn’t promoting the artist, just sharing that I related to the songs.
The song F*cking Perfect….yep that is ME. Many a wrong turns in my life, and I had to fight my way out of the mistakes. Bad decisions, yep did those. The song Sober, I just know what it is like to want to vanish behind alcohol to hide from the pain. Alcoholic? No, have never needed it, craved it etc. But I wasn’t stupid, life just felt better tanked than not so much. And in the video, when P!nk is making out and wrestling with herself, I didn’t see that as a sexual thing. It is just that, she is wrestling with HERSELF, between self love and doing what is right etc. Again, I get it, I relate to that struggle.
To those that have never made the crappy choices and wrong turns in life, more power to you. Be thankful, you do not know what it is like to go there and try to come back from it all. But when someone is clawing their way back onto the path, please, don’t throw stones, judge or otherwise question their actions etc. Instead of stomping on their fingers, reach down and give them a hand up. You haven’t walked a mile or even a block in my shoes, you really have NO idea what you are talking about.
And now, here are those videos. Maybe put your shock and judgmental attitude away and watch and listen, you might gain some insight into who I am, where I have been, and understand after that how hard it is for someone like me to walk back in among those who haven’t been there.
In 70 short days (very short as there is still so much to accomplish by then personally), my son is getting married. I will gain a fantastic young woman as my daughter-in-law. And trust me I know she is fantastic, I watched her growing up. I was her Sunday School teacher, youth leader etc for years. She grew up with my son, as friends and periodic irritants to each other as kids and teenagers will be and do. I love her to pieces, this makes me very happy. I will also gain an adorable granddaughter, she is a spunky little red headed 6 year old that wrapped me around her little finger long ago, before the two love birds realized they were in love.
On Christmas Eve I was chatting with one of my relatives, my mom’s cousin Babs, about the wedding and being the mother-of-the-groom. She shared her experiences, as she has sons, and how her mother told her that the role of the mom of the groom is to wear beige and be quiet. We got a huge laugh out of that, as no woman in this family knows what it means to be quiet. The fact that I am a rather openly opinionated (openly in that I will share it before you have time to process that you do or do not want my opinion) female is genetic. And there is NOTHING quiet about my family.
So, it is now become somewhat of a running joke that I have to get that beige dress, and a roll of duct tape to keep me quiet. My ex will tell you that it will take a hell of a lot more than duct tape to shut me up. Some would say that when I die and they bury me, if you put your ear to the ground, some 6 feet below you will still hear my mouth running. I’m rather proud of that too. Hey, we all have our areas of over achievement. Add to that the ex will not only be there with his new woman (who by the way, I think rocks and I like her – not bad since I haven’t even met her), my ex is the best man! My son is no dummy, the best man for the job is the man that raised him. Bravo on the choice kiddo, you couldn’t have picked a better person for that role.
I have not purchased the dress yet, as I’m working off the weight, and I’m not about to find a dress that is matronly. It just isn’t me. I will not likely buy it at a place the typically sells mother-of-the-groom attire. Oh not to worry, it will be tasteful, cover my tattoos, and will compliment the dress that will be worn by the bride’s mother and the wedding party. But it won’t be beige.
When it comes to being quiet…well it isn’t my wedding. If asked I gladly will share my thoughts, but this day is all about my son and his bride and whatever they want if it is in my power to help ensure it, I will do that. But I will have fun, will very much enjoy myself at this event, and without getting tanked or dancing on tables with a lamp shade on my head. (I do believe that was a number of sighs of relief I just heard)
I am very much in a mood to write today, but for some reason I cannot get my ADD brain to narrow down a topic. I hate when this happens. My fingers are dying to be typing away and my brain is a jumble. Kind of like restless leg syndrome, only it’s restless finger syndrome, which just sounds ‘wrong’ on too many levels to call it that and idol hands are the devil’s workshop and…never mind.
I wish I could blame the inspiration issues on The Backyardigans but we’re not watching them of late as the baby I watch just isn’t quite into them yet. I reached for a box of Table Topics in desperation for just ONE idea rather than the fragments floating around in my head. Sadly, at 3am this morning when I woke up I had several great topics in mind. I know, I should have written them down, but there was nothing handy except the white board on my closet door. That meant getting out of the bed. The bed on which the electric blanket resides, keeping me warm all night. The bed that is SO comfortable that I can justify hitting my snooze alarm 10 times on any given morning so I don’t have to leave the warm, cozy place I don’t spend enough time in lately. I was sure I’d remember what I had woke up thinking about.
Anyway, I promised myself I would write about whatever topic I pulled from that box. I should really just not write because this could be a dangerous thing to do sometimes. And believe me, it COULD have been very dangerous and yet oh so juicy, as I pulled the card that says, “What’s under your bed?”
Now I will be completely honest, I wasn’t sure. I can feel my friend over at Martinis Needed cringing now, because under a lot of beds one will find clutter. Three weeks ago I know that I had 3 rolls of Christmas wrapping paper under the bed…from Christmas 2010. It served to be a good place to shove it in a hurry after wrapping gifts that year, on Christmas Eve, just before the entire family descended on the house. After that it proved to be entertaining to the cats, because cats like things things that make crinkle noises. Those rolls are no longer there, as I had to wrap things again this past Christmas and I used it all up. But I never actually looked under the bed for the paper, because I could just reach under and feel it. I wasn’t entirely sure there was not more until now.
I pulled my handy dandy, never needs batteries, black cat flash light off my vanity and got down on my hands and knees to have a look under the bed. By the way, it never needs batteries because it has a little lever that pops out on one side and you pump it up so to speak to charge it. This thing is so cool because most of the time, when a flashlight is needed, Murphy’s Law dictates the batteries within are dead. But back on track here as I’m hijacking my post. Brace yourself, this is top secret stuff.
What is NOT under my bed:
There was no body. Shocking, I know, as I have 2 ex-husbands and a recent ex-boyfriend that is a pompous ass.
There are no dirty clothes. I actually put all my laundry in a hamper now, in my closet, and do my own wash. SO unlike when I was a teenager and had to walk past the laundry shoot going to and from the shower and instead of sending the clothes down the hole to the basement laundry area, I shoved them under my bed like any logical teenager. How else could I later have a fit over the fact that I had no clean clothes and blame my mother for losing them? Not even a stray sock was under the bed now. I only buy white, little footie socks, no hassle when it comes to mating those puppies.
Sorry dad, no dirty dishes, or cups of mold. In high school I was working on discovering a cure for cancer and the development of a super antibiotic. At least that is what my father would tell you. Whenever there was a shortage of coffee cups he went to my room to find them. I had a habit of getting a cup of milk and sugar with a little coffee (I drank java like daddy did), taking it to my room, drinking half and then forgetting it. In an effort to find a clear spot on my desk to do homework, or the nightstand for another cup of coffee, I would stuff those cups all over the place. Dishes too. Never mind that I went up and down from my room to the kitchen a dozen times a day and could have taken the dirty dishes with me. It is no small wonder we never had a problem with rodents or roaches.
No bizarre objects that cannot be defined, no hair ties (mine is too short to tie in anything), no pencils, pens, books, old mail, mismatched shoes….no none of the standard things you might find under any female’s bed.
What I found under my bed:
A power strip. My phone charger cradle, 2 vanity lamps and a small fan on the vanity are plugged into it. The small fan because I’m moving about in an on again/off again personal, tropical climate known as hot flashes of late.
1 pair of slippers. Not bad, as I own 3 pair. I have to be coordinated even when it comes to sleepwear (even though single) so I have slippers to go with any of my jammies. Laugh, but when my fat butt is being carried out of a window due to a house fire, when you see the footage on the 11pm news you’ll remark how cute I look in my PJ’s and matching slippers. You know you will!
1 pair of running shoes. I wear them for better support when walking. I own several pair, but only one is under the bed, the rest are neatly in a shoe rack in the closet.
1 box fan. Look, there is no where else to put that thing right now, so I layed it down and pushed it under the bed.
Yep that is it. The deep, dark, naughty secrets of what one will find under the Marvelous One’s bed. Nothing exciting, not even one of the cats. Actually they are busy trying to figure out how to get in my closet, where mine recently discovered 2 very large, feather boas from costumes gone by. She thinks she made the kill of the century when it comes to fowl and keeps trying to drag them away.
I’ll have to work on getting a body or two, or some blood evidence under there, something exciting at least.
As IF I needed another reason to sit down at my laptop…I am now officially addicted to Pinterest. OMG it is SO cool!!
Today I found a site with a bunch of wonderful things about Taurus, my birth sign. I wish I could deny them, but um they are on the mark, I felt like I was reading a book about my self!
I should be the Jenny Craig spokesperson. Really I should. Or Weight Watchers or Nutri System, not really picky but I SHOULD be with one of them.
Think about this. Each of these weight loss organizations uses celebrity spokespersons to pimp their programs on TV and probably radio. These celebs all have a ton of money. They can afford and use personal trainers! Sure, they probably eat the food (yeah right), but like old Oprah they have someone pulling their sorry asses out of bed and on to the track, treadmill, or weight bench. Or all of those. Sure, the food plan likely is a good thing, but really it has more to do with their personal trainers than anything, count on it.
See, they have all the advantage over the average consumer of weight loss products. Tons of money to spend to get in shape, dieticians etc, so I just don’t believe that these weight loss businesses are really the reason they are looking like models when done. These chicks looked like that before any of these reduction wizards helped.
How about using a REAL person, someone that isn’t able to afford the trainer, who is not already in amazing shape. Some woman that is lazy but LOVES to eat. Someone like me!
See, my budget is tight so um trainers are OUT.
Food? We are intimate buds, totally into each other and our relationship is unstoppable.
I need assistance, no doubt about that. Oh and I cannot afford to join or purchase their meals. So as a spokesperson I’d get them, free. And what better way to prove the effectiveness of these programs than to have a real, non-famous person try them? I think it is a splendid idea! Someone quick, start a Facebook page, get the Marvi One the position of spokesperson, let’s see just how good this stuff is!
We stopped at a McDonald’s to grab more coffee and use the ladies room. WOW, have things changed since I had small children. I closed the stall door to a spacious ‘potty’ spot, sat down and found myself looking at a chair mounted on the inside of the door, complete with straps. Frankly that kinda creeped me the heck out. Oh don’t get me wrong, having had to use the bathroom with a small child in tow in my distant past, I get the need and the idea is really a good one as it keeps the little crumb crunchers out of trouble in a germ infested area. But my first, very sideways and wrong thought, was “oh, a midget bondage chair!” Yes, I know, wrong and sick. My Biker appreciated the sick humor when I shot him a picture of my view from the top of Mount porcelain.
