Free At Last

Media Justice

 

Hello my kats and kittens! It has once again been a while since I last posted a truly profound blog (and profound is just my way of thinking that I'm important to you and you view me with respect) about anything that flitters through my mind at that particular time. This post is a little bit different and it has weighed heavily on my mind for weeks. Please bear with me if I ramble.

It should come as no shocker that I am a fan of writing. I love it in any form. Meme’s, texts, emails, blogs and articles. It is a fantastic medium and a bastion of communication. However…I’m truly jaded by the media. In any form.

Let me explain and then I will get into the nitty gritty of our conversation. We are having a conversation, right? You with me? Good.

In my lifetime to date I have witnessed the death of true journalism. Journalism itself is a truly remarkable thing to read about and I have graciously provided you a link so you might peruse it yourself. The start of journalism, and the subsequent evolution into realism, was to create a medium of communicating facts, verifying these facts and using objective methods. The problem that revealed itself over time was that writers will always be biased in some form. It is human nature.

The problem I have with media today is the demise of any form of objectivity and the birth of “sensationalist journalism.” Wading through articles, even accredited news reports and not simply the fly by night websites, is that bias has completely overtaken journalism. If I were to point out one specific nature of these hostile takeovers is the use of adjectives, adverbs and pronouns.

So far in this blog I have intentionally used certain words to lead you towards a feeling. And that feeling, that I have hopefully accomplished, is that of a gloom cast over media.

You should know me by now so it should come as no real shock that I am targeting a few specific examples of truly biased media reporting that has made complicated situations even more difficult to have enough information and simple facts.

I’ve purposely steered clear of posting anything to do with the Ferguson case. It is a complicated, convoluted and twisted example of a situation where wording can change the entire light of a very divided issue.

I don’t know if Wilson acted in self defense. I don’t know if Brown was innocent of struggling or assaulting a police officer. As a thinking adult I should have an opinion about the case. When racial inequality, or a controversial death, issues are presented then you MUST find an opinion about at least some aspect of the case. It is imperative that you do because that is where we begin open dialogue to make positive changes to our society.

My problem with finding that middle ground so I can begin forming a cohesive opinion is that the adjectives, adverbs and pronouns thrown around by “journalists” are simply thrown in to make readers, listeners or watchers completely biased.

Let me provide you with an example:

The child was murdered in an unprovoked attack. The white police officer gunned down the  black teenager as he tried to comply with the officers demands.

Now let’s look at a different example:

Officer Wilson found himself in a life and death struggle as the suspect, after resisting arrest, reached into the officer’s vehicle in a bid to grab the officer’s weapon.

See the power of wording? It dramatically changes how you and I react to the statements. The words are leading us towards a dramatically unbiased opinion. And that is my problem with the entire racially charged issues where a death has occurred.

I don’t know what happened during that struggle and the subsequent loss of a life. You don’t know it either because we were not there and there has been no article or televised discussion where it has not become a racially divided issue.

Sensationalist journalism has become the norm. Is the Ferguson case a racial case or is it an unprovoked attack (on either party)? It is both. It is a tragic affair that has people of all the colors of the rainbow finding facts that one color racially profiles and suppresses the rights of another color. And that is wrong on so many levels. When we keep labeling ourselves then we can’t identify with others of different identities. We, as a society, have largely lost empathy for others due to a lack of unbiased facts.

Look. I’ve seen so many statistics thrown up on social media, which I know is ironic since I am using social media as a platform for my own view, that twists and turns racially charged incidents and thoughts into a miasma of dividing based on skin color.

What saddens me the most in the current race wars is that we are not making changes in our way of thinking because we are being lead without really examining why we think the way we do. Yes. I know that there are people who claim to see right through the issue into the heart of the matter. But you don’t. I don’t. I want to truly think that as a rational adult I can view a situation without placing a “color” on it and thinking more as a humanitarian but I find myself grappling back into the labeling of a person.

“This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."…” And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"”

 

That is one of the greatest speeches ever written. It is a speech of oppression that leads into the promise that through peaceful demonstration and education, all men (women) will one day be equal in the sights of others.

We can’t do that yet. But I have hope that we one day can throw aside the adjectives, adverbs and general labels that are attached to each and every one of us. Describing our physical looks to another isn’t racism. Racism is judging the character of a man without unbiased information. Racism is denying another person life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness through equality, empathy and understanding.

I’m not naïve. I know that there will always be a dividing line between individuals based on something. But you know what? I can hope. I can try to do my part by showing my daughters that we need to focus on facts and ignore sensationalism.

So I leave you, my dear friends, with my solution. Educate the next generation because we are already biased whether we want to believe it or not. We must force ourselves to leave that bias behind as we teach our children to look past skin color, income level, sex and religion. We must teach our children and future generations to look beyond the past and learn to ignore labeling so that true equality can be gained. We must find some way to set aside our differences so we can become a society of uniqueness and empathy for all humankind. Then we can cry out, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty (or whatever you believe in), we are free at last!”

Masks, Monkeys and Throwing a Frake

For the first time in my life I’m struggling to write what I am feeling. This is the fifth time I have started to write and it seems as if each version gets erased. I desperately want to let everything inside me out onto paper and yet…I falter. I read the words and it isn’t what I want to say. So let’s try again.

Life has walloped me lately. It has not been anything big. But it is a lot of little things that have just added up and I crashed this week. I crashed hard.

Let’s take it back a few steps. By now you know that I’m pretty much an open book. It is just how I have to operate. I spent a large portion of my life hiding behind masks and I had to learn how to live without them because they were killing me. They were smothering anything that was ME behind a façade that was not me. I had a smile on my face and a crack running straight down through me. So now I have to be an open book. It works for me. I am very transparent. If I’m upset then you definitely know it. But I try my best to be happy and positive. For the last 10 months that has been my focus in life. Some days are more successful than others.

Fall is a difficult time of year for me. I’m coming up on the anniversary of my dad’s death and sometimes I feel guilty. For the first year I thought of him every single day without fail. And then I started to have days when I didn’t think of him and cry. I remembered things that made me smile. I have never stopped missing him. I’ve never stopped wanting to hear him call me “Red” but some days pass and I haven’t thought about him. And then I feel guilty. But the truth is that life goes on. It moves on. If we continue to dwell on the hard things then our life becomes hard. We stop growing. We stop living. The day we stop reaching for the next is the day that we just stop.

I have been very conflicted for a few weeks. I have so many things happening that at times I feel lost. I have a teenage daughter that spends more time screaming at me than she does anything else. My home has become a battle ground. I don’t know how to communicate with her. I print out therapist advice on communicating and being an enforcer but it never lasts. It is just one series of battles to the next. I can’t seem to win. I’m not being melodramatic. When your daughter is counting down the months until she can leave…it isn’t good. I cry because I can’t give her everything she wants monetarily. I cry because no matter what I do, I can’t teach her empathy for others. I can’t communicate that she MUST learn the difference between a NEED and a WANT. When we argue she blames me for bringing her to West Linn because it is West Linn that is demanding that she have everything all of her friends have.

I apologize to her for not being able to give her a new car. I apologize to her because I can’t just hand her concert tickets whenever she wants them. I apologize to her because I can’t buy her a brand new laptop simply because she thinks the other laptop is too big. And so when the screaming starts…I become a person I do not like. I yell back. I get tired and cave because I’m tired of the fighting.

No one ever told me that teens can be this way. And ultimately at the end of the day I blame myself. Somewhere along the way I pushed too hard or I didn’t guide her enough. Somewhere along the way she learned how to put up masks. That is what hurts me the most. She wears masks to hide the things that hurt her. A bright smile hides frustration, pain, and unhappiness.

See…that is what happens to us. We put up masks. It took me more than twenty years to learn how to get rid of my masks. How long will it take her?

So besides difficult teens, mourning, frustration at work, and a missing husband, I am also learning how to deal with a mom that is dating.

I kinda feel like a forgotten teen. She doesn’t call. She doesn’t write. She doesn’t text. Ugg…what am I going to do with her? I’m still dealing with those feelings regarding her moving forward with her life. Obviously I love her and I support her decision but I’m anxious. I don’t quite know how to talk about it because it is entirely new ground. I honestly feel like a teen dealing with separation anxiety and worrying that I’ll be lost in the shuffle of someone new.

Realistically I know that my mother loves me but she needs a new direction in her life. She can’t mourn forever and still be healthy. Life does go on. It is hard. It can be difficult but in the end you have to keep reaching forward. I think, with time, my conflicted feelings and general weirdness of the situation will mellow out. For as OCD as I am about rules and putting people into specific boxes with guidelines, I know that in the end I’ll just shrug and throw a Frake because it comes down to one very real thing: not my circus. Not my monkey.

That phrase has guided me intensely over the past 6 months and has given me some distance from problems that would have previously had me in a complete meltdown. I’ve forgotten it in the last three weeks but I am going to start writing it down on my hand until it becomes habit again. I really must because if I don’t then I’ll go insane. Way too much on the plate for me to take anything else on.

Boss being a dick? NMC.NMM (Not My Circus. Not My Monkey)

Other people throwing shit my way or throwing me under the bus? NMC.NMM. Okay wait…gotta take that one back because technically it is my circus but I’m not gonna let it get to me. In this circumstance I’m throwing a Frake.

OH? You want to know what “throwing a Frake” means? Picture it. You standing (or sitting, whatever floats your boat) and making that universal rolling the dice motion with your hand. Then you gloriously release it to the sky in an upward swoop! You might also think of the motion as a “catch and release” if ya get what I’m sayin…wink…wink…nudge…nudge. Ya know, pri-vat-e time with the one eyed monster.

Now apply the NMC.NMM throwing a Frake. It is the PERFECT hand accoutrement for the saying. When you can’t say it out loud then you can always throw the Frake.

I’ll get through this rough patch. I’ll guilt trip my mother into calling me more, or at least calling me back because now she will read this and feel guilty. (Yes mom…you should) but she’ll know that I love her. The Kennedy situation will resolve itself eventually. It may take 15 years but eventually we will be able to communicate effectively. I’ll have the surgery that I’ve avoided for months. It’s either that or eventually lose more and more muscle control. It will turn out just fine. Work will get better even if it means me having a “come to Jesus” meeting one on one with some folks. Or I’ll just throw a Frake and say “Fuck a duck” grab my sweet raspberry vodka and sit watching the rain. Win, Win either way.

Opinions are like...

Opinions are like….

Hello Kats and Kittens!

So I’ve been tumbling around some thoughts in my head lately about a few social issues, as well as some personal ones. I haven’t blogged in a while but at least I have gone back to editing Synergy and writing more on the 2^nd. But that is enough of that.

 

Strangely it was a song that has me thinking. It is “Rude” by Magic. Here is the link to the lyrics. I’m reasonably certain that at least three or four of you have heard it on the radio. http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/magic/rude.html

I get what the song is saying. It is about a man asking a father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Noble and romantic right? Yeah. I get that. But if you sit and listen to the song a second time, without the romanticized notion that two young lovers want to be united in matrimony, you come to see a different aspect. And one, believe it or not, that is at the root of many social issues I currently have. The young man asks the father for his hand in marriage.

But the father says, “ You say I'll never get your blessing 'til the day I die
Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is 'No'”

The singer/writer comes back with:

“Why you gotta be so rude?
Don't you know I'm human too?
Why you gotta be so rude?
I'm gonna marry her anyway”

“Why you gotta be so rude?”

That, my dear kats and kittens, is where the song takes a southward turn for me and really becomes a marking point of things that have recently begun to bug the ever living shit out of me. The father says “No.” and yes, it is a bit harsh. Granted the listener (or reader) does not know the background between the father and the lover. We don’t have to know it. Here is what I fucking hate and is pretty prevalent in our society right now. If we say “No” to someone, or disagree with someone, then suddenly we are either: haters, rude, ignorant, -ist (as in racist, sexist etc.) or we are marked a liberal or conservative. STOP FRACKING LABELING PEOPLE WHO DISAGREE WITH YOU!

Now I shall take a deep and explain. I first heard the “you are being rude” and “stop bullying me” from my daughters. I’m quite positive they are just splattering out things they have heard and have not stopped to realize the meaning of the statements. Or I’m wrong and they do but just do not want to use them in the correct manner.

Let’s take another look at the song for a moment. The boy (because a grown up would not throw a hissy fit but I’m giving absent credit where no one is due any) thinks the father saying, “No” is rude. Why isn’t it just being truthful? OH I get it now. It’s to sell a song and make you feel like the father is being a ripe, old bastard. He’s standing in the way of true love. Ummm yep. Now in my family, our dad was greatly respected and taught all of his girls to respect others. Even when they do not deserve any respect. (Yeah it does kinda suck at times but stiff upper lip and all that jazz.)

Why is the simple fact of saying no to someone make them rude? Let’s put that in another context.

“Can I have a million dollars?”

“Uh I’m going with a no on that one. Earn it yourself. Ain’t no freebies in life.”

“Why do you have to be that way? Why are you being so rude? You could have just said “no” and been done with it.” (No, the person would not have been done with it. You see…they wanted a million dollars and it stings to be told NO. So the person is “rude” for telling them no.

I’ve often found that a simple “no” is truly not simple in any regards. People want an explanation of being denied. This is the point of many conversations where it becomes an argument. And enter in my next phrase that is wholly being used to death.

“Why are you bullying me?”

I abhor bullying in any way, shape, form or fashion. The definition of bullying is: use superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.


 


No. The person is not bullying. There is no forcing. No intimidation. No use of strength. No. NO. NOOOONOOO.


 


Here is what all of the above boil down too: disagreeing with someone, saying ‘NO’, not liking someone else’s lifestyle, or having a difference of opinion does not necessarily come down to a label.


 


I simply hate labels. There. I said it. Anyone that knows me also knows I am a huge supporter of the LGBT community. I believe in equality for all and rights for all. But far too often lately I’m seeing reverse equality. A person states they do not agree with a lifestyle and suddenly they are bigots, haters or ignorant. Or they are conservative thinking drones. (Which is an oxymoron by the way.)


 


I am a believer in Freedom of Speech. I truly am. But, as I am learning, that does not mean Freedom from Reprisal or Consequence. But we, as a society in the whole, have missed the bulletin that states “Just because a person disagrees with something does not make them a: liberal, conservative, racist, feminist, nudist, bigot, idiot, genius etc. Just add and –ism or an –ist and it covers the gamut.


 


We have to stop. When can we get to the point where a disagreement, an opinion or a different set of beliefs can be met with, “Eh. I get what you are saying but I disagree.” No name calling. No labeling. Let’s clear some of the popular ones up. Okay?


 


*Belief in God and religion: does not make you an idiot, a sheep, or a zealot. You just believe in something different.


*Saying no to making a cake for a homosexual couple does not mean you hate them. You just believe in something different.


*Marching in protest for equality in marriage: does not make you a liberal, a radical or a heretic.


*Being against illegal immigrants: does not make you a bad person, a bully, a right wing conservative or have a case of feeling superior and immigrant-ist (okay I made that one up.)


*Saying no does not mean: you hate the person, you are a bully or an –ist. Or that you are being rude!


*Not liking a person does not mean you want to bully them. It does not mean anything. Disliking someone is a personal choice and should have nothing to do with how you feel. If someone doesn’t like me (and I admit sometimes I get anxious about this) it is their choice. It is not mine.


 


As I was driving into work this morning, and as I typically do, I had a speech going on in my head. There are 3 main camps for every opinion. 1) Yay! I like this. 2) Boo. I hate this. 3) I’m ambivalent either way.


I wish it were this easy. I truly do. But it is not. Especially online because after any one of the first two responses you will get name calling and pigeon holing. After the third you will be lazy or misinformed upon which both camps will continue to explain it to you and why you should take a stance. Even worse are the people who keep on saying the same thing. I just want to yell, “Listen…just because I don’t fecking agree with you does not mean that I don’t understand it.”


 


Here is essentially what I’m writing about all boiled down to a few sentences (or at least that is my hope.)

• Don’t like something? Don’t do it.
• Is it harming you? No? Then shut up about it unless you are asked for your opinion
• If you give your opinion then expect others to do the same. The secret to peace within is to understand that if something is true to you then the opposite of that is true as well. (Meaning that the other person believes in their own opinion.)
• Someone telling you “NO” does not: make them rude, that they are bullying you, that they deserve any label (liberal, sexist etc.). It is just a difference of opinion. Sure there are qualifiers such as being in a life/death situation.
• You are not entitled to a detailed explanation on a “NO.” It is just No and most times you just get that much. Don’t go around whining or bitching. If you do want to speak logically and address the NO in a polite manner then by all means, go for it. Just remember that you are not entitled to a reason.

 


I’d normally at this point end on a humorous note, or whatever. Instead I’m going to end it this way:


 


Don’t be a dick. Treat others with respect and you will soon find that respect comes your way. Be nice. Play nice.

 

 

 

At Summer's End

At Summer’s End

 

It has been a while since I wrote a blog. It’s really a shame because I actually have a couple of them stored in the old noggin. I’m letting one kinda mellow for a bit because it would definitely stir the pot, poke the hornet’s nest and goose the mule. Am I that worried about it? Neh. It’s my blog. It’s my viewpoint. And that is all it has to be.

This is the last hurrah of summer before we slowly begin our descent into fall. Now let me clarify for those that do not live in Portland. We have 4 seasons. I know my friends and relatives in the South may not know what those are because two of them pass so quickly that they can hardly be considered a season. Maybe a seasonish day? A micro-season? J You get my drift.

But here we have four seasons. We have our winter rainy season, a slow stretch of spring that makes sun worshipers bask like fat cats and has every outside seating area full to capacity. Then comes a lovely, warm summer that makes you want to hit the beach, bike, hike and just be outside with a cold beer or cider. It rarely is humid and there are many days when it is in the upper 90’s. The sun comes up early and it is still light out at 9:30-10:00. Then at the end of August we begin the slow descent into fall. The sun is still shining but the rain has finally arrived. And we have missed the rain. We are tired of 90 degree days and are basking in the colors that are arriving. We count down the days until pumpkin becomes the main flavor of anything from lotion to coffee.

This weekend Dave and I spent at the beach at Neskowin. It was wonderful. Lincoln City is just a few miles south and we spent some time at this wonderful glass blowing shop. I picked up some goodies that are absolutely brilliant.  We had lunch and shopped a bit. Then we did the thing that makes me the happiest. We walked out onto the beach at Proposal Rock and I played in the freezing surf.

Each time I go to the ocean, which I do far too often and entirely not enough, it is a new experience. I spent a week in the Gulf and each day the water was the same. Beautiful and warm. But it doesn’t change. The Pacific Northwest is a vastly different beast from that and only slightly similar to the Atlantic. Now granted, if you travel to the Northeast you get something akin. But if you can swim in the water without doing the “my feet and legs HURT” dance…you don’t know what the ocean can be like.

This time the waves were intense. Far bigger and crashing than I’ve ever seen. Wait….if you picture huge 10 foot swells cresting and crashing down then that is close to the beach yesterday evening as the tide changed. I was in awe. It is a tempting mistress. You long to wade out but when you feel the riptide suck you off your feet in just half a foot of water, you know that it isn’t just dangerous to go out there, it is suicide. And not a quick suicide either. A painful death in a beautiful grave.

I walked along the sand and kept venturing out until my legs were sufficiently numb enough to not feel the cold. I would stare into the water as tumbling shell fragments were shoved to shore and then ripped right back out. The waves would crash into me from the front, and then would swipe me from the side into a revolving dance trying to stay just one step out of reach towards the safety of the black sands. I turned my face into the sun and just inhaled the brine scented water. All along the beach kids teased the foam, dogs raced around the dunes and people just sat and stared. The ocean does that to you. It stops all thought processes. If it doesn’t do that for you…you are at the wrong place.

I’ll admit that I’m an ocean baby. I love the water but I want the water here. I want to laugh and squeal when the water hits me and I race back to the beach hot stepping to keep out of the frigid water. I love finding those small rivers that lead to the ocean and enjoy the warmer water. I think far more. Laugh far more and live far more in those hours staring into the ocean. Yesterday I simply sat on the sands with Dave and thought about all of the similes and metaphors this ocean has inspired. The stories it has told. The people it has kept. It is a terribly beautiful thing that is alive and lures you in. It invites you and then keeps you.

There is nothing quite so wonderful. Dave said he did not think I would like to live there all the time. I do not know if that is true. I guess at first the novelty of having it there daily would be liberating but perhaps…over time…I would crave a different scene. I would tire of the cold, chilly air. I would bemoan the frigid waters that always seem too good to be true. But. There is a part of me that doesn’t think that would ever happen. My entire life I have wanted to live in the mists and weather of Portland. I love it here. I don’t think I will be here for the rest of my life but it is a place that fits me. It is unique. It is weird and it is diverse. I hope like myself.

Labor Day is upon us and school starts this week. Life is beginning its transition into the glorious fall that we have all been waiting for patiently. We love the sun but have missed the rain. The leaves will start turning their riotous colors and then slowly drift to the ground. The mountains will turn completely white again and we will begin wearing our heavier layers of clothing. It is time. I will still return to the beach as usual, gaze out across the water looking for something that always seems to be there just out of reach. And life will be good.

The Enemy at Your Gate or Not my circus. Not my monkey.

The Enemy at the Gate

 

So, my little kats and kittens, it has been a while since you had a fresh post. Have no fear…here it is to alleviate all signs of anxiety and feeling of loss at my words. You’re welcome.

I recently had visitors from Arkansas. I was very apprehensive about having these particular visitors, especially in the combination they would come. Many people have asked me why I had one, in particular, come visit me in the Fabulous Pacific North West.  (FPNW for short). I guess the answer is: she isn’t as bad as you might think. There are layers to her and unfortunately you have to get through a WHOLE LOT before you understand what motivates her, what has hurt her in the past and what has shaped her. She hasn’t had it easy and continues to struggle with it. But that is neither here nor there. I learned really quickly that the phrase: “Not my circus. Not my monkey.” can truly bring you peace. It most readily applies to this visit. Things turned wonky very fast. And after the departure they nosedived right into oblivion. Do I regret it? Eh. I wanted to help her, and make her see that things weren’t as bad as she thought. Then after a huge brouhaha I realized that I just can’t do it. But anyway this all leads to a point.

Perhaps it was a bit of missing something from Arkansas. I have begged my sister to come visit but I’m pretty sure Hades will be wearing a fur coat before that happens. The running comment that I get is, “Why would I want to go somewhere and be cold?” Well I guess that is a valid point except that we do have summers here. C’est la vie. Que sera sera. Not my circus and not my monkey. I’ve gotten my mom, two out of four of my best friends and I have promises from the other two to come out in the future. That’s pretty good because I love showing my loved ones how much this place has to offer and why I am here. I mean come on…getting to drive past a white capped mountain daily is pretty awesome. Seeing huge waterfalls, the Columbia, the ocean and various other hot spots does really make this place unique in all the world but it isn't for everyone. I want to share but if I don't then I can always enjoy it myself. Anyway... back to the initial thought behind this blog.

I am a people watcher. I watch them at work. I watch them in public. I watch them at home and I watch them online. Some people are a true delight. I love our communications. I love being intellectually challenged and I also like a “can do” attitude. Now I’m not saying I’m Mary Poppins but I’ve learned that to get peace, you have to push peace outward. It is pretty simple. Simple as in it took me 38 years.

These past two years have been difficult for me. I’ve spent more time in a hospital and under the knife than my entire life span. It sucked. Wrecking your back sucks. Your dad dying sucks beyond all belief. But under all of that pressure there is a diamond beginning to form. I appreciate things far more than before. I appreciate that I have the chance to change my destiny each time I wake up. I have a chance when I awake to have the option of a good day or bad. I have a chance to say: Not my circus. Not my monkey. (Pay attention kittens because that is pretty fecking important.)

 

There is one thing in particular that happens when you start making great changes in your life. You realize what is healthy and what is not. I know, for myself, that not smoking, exercising, diet and managing my anxiety is good for me. It may not be the same for others. I do know, beyond 10000% of a doubt that if you whine, pine and bitch about a situation then you are going to be consumed by that problem.

 

I have a “friend” I guess, for lack of a better description, that drives me bonkers. I feel for this person. I do. But this person has played the “Oh poor me. My life is wrecked. My history and past has contributed to this utter devastation and I have to prove to the world that I’m a survivor. My significant other left me and has moved on but I continue to whine, pine and lament over it. I wax intellectual, and try to post intellectually on other’s comments but I can’t figure out if it is whether or weather and my posts look like a drunk 10 year old wrote them. (And I am NOT being a Grammar Nazi at all. It really is hard to read this person's posts because you get lost.) Blah de blah blah blah.”

Uh yeah. That person. I’m not against public honesty. No one practices it more than myself and I put myself out there for everyone to see. I have zero secrets. I’m not ashamed of my past, per se, but I’m not rolling in glory over it. I’m just me. There are many people who are private and that is perfectly okay. They don’t agree with my philosophy and hey…it isn’t their circus and it isn’t their monkey.

So I guess the question that might come to mind is this: if these people drive you bat shit insane with their asinine, melodramatic bullshit…why don’t you unfriend them? (I don’t even like that word even though it has now made the dictionary.) That is a very good question and I’m glad you asked.

I don’t know. I comment on their posts and hope they see that there is someone that believes in them enough to take the time and comment. But invariably they continue to try and milk the sob train and you find yourself saying this often: Really? Are you kidding me? Really? (Now picture me saying that aloud and tilting my head with a bewildered expression. And then next picture me glaring upwards and shaking my head.)

The point of this entire blog is this: we all have our demons. We all have our silent, secret enemies that creep upon our gate. We all do. No one is completely free of them. They are things that have been derived from our past. Silent, dark and stealthy wisps that come to the forefront of our lives when we least expect it. There is little doubt in the fact that they are our true enemies. That does NOT mean we have to tolerate them. You have the chance to ignore them. You may not be able to exorcise them completely but they don’t have to hold you down. Got dumped? Then move on and fall in love with yourself for a while and you’ll be surprised at how much better you treat yourself. I’m not advocating full on narcissism but if you aren’t comfortable alone then you will never last in a relationship. Trust me. I’ve burned through enough to know. Take my word on it. When YOU like yourself then you position yourself so that others see the same thing. Confidence is sexy.  Self-righteousness is not. But that’s for another time.

You get what you give. It’s pretty simple. Have a bad relationship in the past? When you fail to let go of the past, you can never reach for the future. Only one day truly matters and that is the present. Bad things happen. Sadness comes to our lives in devastating ways. We lose people we love and others we lose because of a different life choice. There is no “right” way to live but there are a whole lot of options. Keep that eye on the enemy at your gate and you’ll come out sunny side up.

Things You Should Know By Now

Things you should know by now.

 

As I grew up I always thought if you prayed hard enough, God would answer your prayers. There have been many, many times in life that I felt let down. That God hadn't answered a prayer. Then years later I would look back, give a huge "Whew! Dodged that bullet" and silently gave God some praise that he had NOT answered my fervent  whisperings. Along the way of life, however, I did pick up some life lessons that I will now impart to you. Most of them you should know but in case you missed that class in Life High, here is a refresher.

 

One door closing does not mean one door opens

 

Whoever told you that garbage was feeding you an optimistic line of crap. One door closing means just that. Something has ended. The problem with this saying is that most people do not leave that door closed. Take relationships for example. It ends, you think you are moving along towards another opportunity and WHAM! You open the door again. You've cut your own throat by sabotaging your "now" and not looking forward. The past is the past and nothing you, or I, can do anything about changing it. Learn from it but leave it back there with the garbage.

Let's also apply this principle to jobs and careers. You get laid off from a position, you get fired, you resign and then try to move on. Well that is pretty good if another career opportunity presents itself. Sometimes it does not and you will sometimes have to deal with people who tend to look down on you. They see you as job hopping and irresponsible. Here is the truth. Sometimes jobs and careers just don't work out. Plain and simple. And sometimes that door that opens is only a temporary one while you look for something you love. Here is a huge news flash though: sometimes the door that you would love to open never does. That's okay though. I've learned that doing something you love, like writing for a living, can often lead you to hating your passion. I advise people to do something they like, not love. If you do happen to have a career doing what you love and you continue loving it as time goes on…kudos to you my friend.

 

You are never given more than you can handle.

 

That. Is. Bullshit. Well not really. The honest truth is that it is a saying people use to help you get through the rough times in life. And it is kinda true. If you could not handle it then you don't want the alternative. Not being able to handle what life has given you gives you two hard options: insanity or death. That's it. Now there is a soft option that people don't often tell you but you kinda figure it out. Share the burden. I NEVER want my friends or family to handle a burden all by themselves. Tell me about it. I'm not a mind reader. I don't know when you are having a hard time. If you share it with me, I'll help take some of the load. I may not be able to hand walk you through it but I'm there if you need someone to catch you when you fall or to grab your arm when you stumble. I wish I was fabulously wealthy because then I'd help a lot more people. I'm poor though.

Happiness is in the little things.

This is a positive life lesson and one that many people forget. Here is a newsflash. You work 70 hour weeks to get a lot of money. That money gets you things. You occasionally get to enjoy those things but those long work weeks and racing through life trying to catch that dollar comes with a price. That price is your health and mental well being. I would rather work 40 hours and enjoy a sunny day or a good book than to be chasing a better car, a bigger house or vacation. I'm not saying wanting those things is bad. I'm not saying having those things as a goal is bad. But enjoy the little things in life.

Listen when people are talking

Most people do not engage active listening skills. Most people are simply waiting for a pause so they can interject. Don't do that. Be an active listener. Empathize with your speaker and then respond appropriately. Don't give bullshit conversation fillers. Another thing: Don't multitask when speaking with a friend. Enjoy a good phone call or text. When someone you love talks to you…listen fully. Don't do the dishes, straighten the house or do other things when that person is trying to engage you. Give them 100% of your time even if it is only for a few minutes. I am the absolute worst when it comes to this simply because I have the attention span of a gnat and I often have trouble understanding people when they speak. It isn't a foreign language block, it is that I honestly am having difficulty hearing people now. Man…getting older sucks. Some octaves I just have trouble hearing. If someone is more than 10 feet away, I have trouble hearing. I'm even worse on a phone unless the caller is enunciating clearly and speaking without static.

 

And FINALLY…The world does not have to know when you are right and someone else is wrong.

This is pretty self explanatory. So what if the person is wrong or misinformed. If it isn't a huge, grossly negligent thing that could potentially harm them or a loved one…zip it. You don't have to be right. Constantly being "right" makes you "wrong" most of the time.  A good example happened today. I posted an article and didn't take the time to post what I agreed with on the article. It's Facebook. So what. A friend posted two rebuttal articles and then I posted two rebuttal articles rebutting his articles. (Please don't think I'm picking on you. You know I love you to death!). This person is a near and dear friend so I hope he truly realizes I'm just using this as an example.

However, I do have some friends that seem to take delight in constantly debunking things that are spread via social media. You cannot post anything without them hunting down some other article decrying what you have posted. Here is my response: So what. Most of us know scams on Facebook. Those pics that need 1,000,000,000,000 likes? Yes…we know it is spam. The heartwarming stories? The injustices given to others? The accounts of Obama being a traitor? Yes, there are some people who wholeheartedly believe those things. Do you? Okay if you don't. Okay if you do. Just repeat after me: Not My Circus. Not My Monkey.

The subset after this person, is the person who thinks it is funny to call themselves Grammar Nazi's. They find a few spelling errors and misuses such as: you're, your, their, there etc. and have a fit. So what if they use the wrong word? Maybe they are using their phone and it autocorrects to that particular one and they do not catch it. Just because you can spot a few words used incorrectly does not make you a Grammar teacher. Do you ensure that every sentence is correct, the punctuation used is correct and the sentence length is appropriate for the given remark? Oh you don't? You might use incomplete sentences? No one has nailed you to a fence and let the crows feast? Then shut it. It seems that the World Wide Web has bred a huge number of asses and that is one of the most obvious means of recognizing them.

I don't correct another person's grammar or spelling because….Not my circus. Not my monkey. I have been a professional, and paid, writer for more than ten years. The secret to my success? Editors. So unless you are a professional editor…shut it.

 

So there you go. A few refresher lessons from my perspective. If you don't agree…not your circus and most definitely not your monkey.

(Yes that is my saying of the week.)

F*CK You Cosmo

I have a deep, dark confession to make. I read self-help books, magazines and websites frequently. I do and I cannot help myself. Somehow each time I am fooled into thinking that this is going to be the one that actually works! This article is the key to my entire life! This website is going to make me better, stronger, faster etc. Each time I walk away saddened. Much like I'm sure Newt Gingrich feels after a run at the presidential election. It just doesn't seem to work.

The problem, I believe, is that all self-help books, magazines and websites treat us like we are 5 years old and that every problem is black and white. We aren't and it isn't. Your man isn't doing the dishes? Talk to him and explain what the problem is and how you feel. Ya...right fucker. You want to know the outcome of THAT conversation? He looks at you like you are a complete moron, you two have a fight over some freaking dishes and you spend the next few days miserable. The real world answer to that particular issue is pretty simple: either you do them or you don't. If he wants a clean dish he will eventually get he point or you will eventually cave in. The best case scenario is one where he hires a cleaning service but don't get your hopes up.

This leads me to what I believe to be the source of all discontentment in women's lives...magazines such as Cosmopolitan. Yep, you read that right - Cosmo is the bane of your existence and mine. If you are over the age of 30 you already know I am right and you know why. If you are younger than 30 you may still be blinded by the light. So allow me to bring you into the darkness of reality.

The US population, a quick figure, is roughly at 311,591,917. Roughly over half of that is female giving us a female population of 155, 795,958 women. From there you could estimate the ages and races but I don't give enough of a crap to warrant that kind of math. So let's just go with 155 million women.

How many of those 155 million women are below a size 6, live in New York City, and are single? No guess? I don't know. That's why I asked you. There are no real statistics on that question. I guess I could make one up - so let's go with 1 million and I'm being EXTREMELY generous. Cosmo reports that it has a monthly subscription of 3,021,720.

WHAT IN THE HOLY HELL IS CAUSING 2,021,720 WOMEN TO SUBSCRIBE TO THIS RAG WHEN IT DOES NOT APPLY TO THEM?

Let's forget about the readers who pick up a copy at the checkout stand and instead focus on the subscribers. The cost is not much. It is roughly about 12.00 a year. 1.00 an issue at the cheapest online magazine subscription company. But that is 1.00 to make you feel less than you are. Send me 1.00 and I will guarantee that I will write a blog each month focusing on clothing that you aren't going to actually wear in Seattle, Washington or Little Rock, Arkansas. I'll write in a paragraph about the sex positions you already know about but gained a kink in your back trying simply because someone told you that it would increase your power with men.

Here is the truth no matter how many women and men chime in on how Cosmo can improve your relationship/life/bedroom circus antics etc: Men flinch when you open that magazine. Why? Because it will instantly fill your head full of doubt. You will not become empowered. You will try out the sex positions and then wonder why he is looking scared. You will think about buying some of the products and clothing they are shilling but in the end will decide that your own personal style is what you prefer. But only after you've spent money. Mmm...think that is what Cosmo is after? Money? Perhaps by making you and me feel inferior Cosmo understands that you will continue to buy the magazine in hopes of a quick fix.

Cosmo, Dr. Phil, The Five Love Languages and Men are from Mars/Women are from Venus aren't going to tell you anything you didn't already know. Men and Women are two completely separate creatures that have zero communication ability between us. We are just hardwired differently and I don't give a rats ass about Nature vs Nurture debates on this one. Come to think of it...maybe there really isn't anything truly different about men and women but instead there are just differences in person to person.

Cosmo is going to make your life miserable by telling you everything you should already know but don't. Except you already know it. If you can't fit into a size 2...I don't need to tell you that. You already know it. Cosmo would not be popular if it applied to the other 154 million women because it would not have anything new to sell.

I have learned to not pick up Cosmo unless I want to read the horoscope or the blunders portions. I like hearing about others' embarrassing moments. I can relate to many of those. Yet I still read self-help books and websites. Mainly because I think they are going to give me some insight into my psyche. They don't but they give me the illusion that I can fix all of the problems in my own mind. Honestly the only real solution is that I am me. I'm all that I can ever be just as you are all you can ever be. And that is pretty good when it comes down to it.

The Friend Zone

So I recently read an article on Jezebel ( you can read it here it is by Samantha Irby) about the Bro' Zone. It is that magical place females find themselves when they lust/love a guy but he considers her just a friend. All of you kats and kittens know what I'm talking about. Most women at some point in their lives has received the "talk" about not wanting to ruin a great friendship or you are his hang out buddy. Don't even fucking deny it bitches because I know you are lying if you do!

All joking aside...we, females, do it all the time to guys. I know I have certainly been guilty of it. Yes...I have deliberately put a guy into the friend zone because I truly liked his friendship. Yes...I have put a guy into the friend zone because he did shit for me. I have had my fair share (no I'm not listing a number but we'll say it is higher than 1) of F*ck Buddies. Those are the guys you don't want to hang out with, you don't want them doing anything for you other than a quick round of bed play. They don't get to stay the night and you never tell most of your friends. Hell...I've had one that I never even told my BEST FRIEND! Yep...man he was so totally not what I'd pick out for myself. Even pretending to be his friend irritated the piss out of me. He was atrocious but hey...it was a low point in my life. But enough about that. My sexual conquests are certainly interesting but I'm getting off track.

Here is the thing: if you do not want to be put into the Friend Zone then you have to know the signs. This is for guys and girls. These are some tips that will help you stay clear of that murky area where heartache and angst lie in wait. Now if you can certainly apply this to the Friends with Benefits Zone as well. They are interchangeable.

1. Don't Aim Too High! Guys: if you can't: shower on a daily basis, brush your teeth, consider homemade tattoos "cool", think a business degree can be attained in two weeks via an Internet course, are a sociopathic drug user that looks like the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz except 50 lbs lighter, or just attend way too many comic book conventions...you aren't going to get a supermodel. You aren't going to be dating the Homecoming Queen. You aren't going to get that insanely hot chick that looks like Megan Fox but stars in pornos. A recent study showed that a huge majority of men (even the butt ugly ones) always think they can win the supermodels and Homecoming Queens. They always shoot too high and clearly outside their social, economic, political and environmental status quo. AND THEN BITCH BECAUSE THEY CAN'T FIND A "DECENT" WOMAN!! Be realistic. The same holds true for women. Nice personalities only go so far. If you look like a troll (and not one of the cute ones with the standing hair) then you are not going to get the Brad Pitt. The only exception to this rule is money. If you have a lot of money then...fuck you can have whoever you want.
2. You Get Asked to Attend a Wedding and You Aren't Dating: No one likes to show up at a wedding alone. It kinda makes you feel like an outsider and a bit pathetic because someone will ask about your girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife at some point and you either have to lie or just admit that you are single. With cats. But if you get asked to a wedding by a guy/girl you aren't dating exclusively....you are now in the Friend Zone. Two types of people go to weddings together: Buddies and those in Relationships. Know the difference and you'll go far.
3. Internet: Yes, I have to take it there. Now granted I do know many successful stories of people that have met through the Internet. Some have reconnected over the years and some have been new meetings. But for every successful romance I can give you 100 stories of guys/girls looking for a quick hookup. Granted there are more guys doing the trolling than girls but it still happens. Taken men use the Internet because it is safer than trolling bars and laundromats. You should always weigh that new connection with a very doubting mind. Oh and always ask for a current picture with a newspaper! Oh and a background check! Oh and always ask if he is currently a meth head user/dealer! Just some quick tips :)
4. Last Minute Calls: Listen, we all have things that come up at the last minute but if someone truly wants to be with you and values your time...he/she will schedule beforehand. Friends are the ones that get the biggest leeway in this department because it is almost always a casual invitation. If he calls you to come over to a party, but didn't mention it beforehand and he's drunk when he calls, he probably thinks of you as a friend (probably with benefits.) It's the truth.

Now...here is the real truth. If you do not want to be in the Friend Zone/Friends with Benefits department is all boils down to how you present yourself. I know some fantastic ladies that always have this inherent dignity that just exudes from their perfect pores. I, however, am not one of these people and I tend to learn all my lessons the hard way. I'm getting better all the time. I'm like fine wine baby! Or cheese...ya probably more like cheese.

The simplest solution is to not play the guessing game. When I want to know if Dave likes me....I ask. When we were dating I didn't play coy and I didn't assume anything. I told him that if he liked me he would have to tell me because my signals always steer me wrong. We even came up with our own code words to express certain sentiments.

Life is pretty hard and the talking monkey's make it even harder. We spend so much time "inferring" emotion, sentiment, thought and action that we often miss exactly what is in front of our face. If we would just ask the right questions and take the answers at face value...we'd be pretty well off. Obviously we wouldn't be in politics though! Ha I kill me.

Letter To My Daughters

Letter to my Daughters

A Letter to my Daughters

 

Dear Daughters,

I wanted to take a moment and talk to you. Well, not literally talk to you, but more figuratively. Sit down and let me impart a bit of my knowledge. I know you are at the age when you think you have it all down pat but humor me for a bit.

As I was tending the yard, I had an epiphany. Once upon a time I hated doing any type of housework. It all seemed futile. The grass would just grow up again. The dishes and laundry would just pile up. It was a monotony of the same chores over and over each week. I wanted to do something with my life. I wanted to have a fabulous career and be someone special.

Children do not, necessarily, make someone special. There are some fabulously special people in the world that do not have children, either through choice or circumstance. Did you make me special? No. As hard as that is to believe, I do have a life outside of you. But here is what makes me special, and one day I hope it makes you special as well, I developed understanding and empathy.

So here are some lessons I learned that I pass to you. As you know, the 8th of each month is special to me. It is a reminder that life is fleeting but the knowledge and memories you leave behind are monumental and immortal.  My parents, grandparents and friends have left indelible marks on my life. It is especially my parents and grandparents that have left the greatest. My dad left me the ability to stop and think. My mom is showing me, every single day, what true love is and how to be strong when others would crumble.

·         Your job is not what defines you. You define your job. This may seem confusing but it really all comes down to your ethics. Everyone answers to someone. While you may at times think a job is beneath you, it really is not. You are learning something each and every time you go to work. You are learning how to meet new people. You are learning new things. You are learning responsibility. Whether it is flipping burgers or running a billion dollar company...you are defining your job. Never disrespect those individuals you feel are working dead end jobs or service industry jobs. Without them, society would cease to function.

·         Tasks you think are a waste of time...actually do have purpose. I hated doing yard work or housework. Yet I saw my parents enjoy doing them. Why on earth would anyone like getting dirty or cleaning? I understand now. It is a task that has a beginning and an end. It is an accomplishment. Strive for the highest goal you can imagine but keep those small tasks. Each one checked off is an accomplishment. They may not mean much at the time but they will be satisfying later.

·         I am not your friend. A parent makes a horrible mistake the moment they want to be their child's friend. A friend implies that they will understand and encourage certain behavior and, at the same time, tolerate certain behavior. Friend's are not responsible for your actions and are not always going to guide you in the right direction. Get back to me on that when you are in your 20's. I want your respect. I want your trust. But I don't want to be your friend. I don't want to know every single thing you are doing. It would drive me insane. I will later be your friend. I want to eventually be your friend. But we are not at that point in our lives.

·         One day you will experience grief. You do not understand why I cry so much at the loss of my father. The loss of my grandparents. One day I hope you do grieve for me because I certainly do not want to be left grieving for you. That may be selfish of me but a parent's worst nightmare is having to see their child out of this world. From the moment you both came into this world, I was plagued by nightmares of losing you. Every parent has those thoughts. Strike that. Every GOOD parent has those thoughts. The "What If's" drive new parents crazy. I once actually panicked at the thought of a wolf breaking into the house and attacking you. Laugh all you want now but irrational fears are what drives a parent to be protective. My heart breaks when you cry but I never want to have mine broken by losing you. You two mean that much to me. You are my life.

·         Pain is a part of life. There will be times when pain brings you to your knees. When life seems futile and hopeless. Just remember that all things fade with time. The wounds that are raw at the moment will eventually heal and leave a scar. Don't cover the scar. Don't stare at it daily either but make sure you know it is there. It is a reminder that you are alive and will keep fighting back.

These are just a few things that I want you to know. You will make mistakes and that is okay. You will learn. My dad, very often when growing up, would just look at me and shake his head. When I eventually figured it out he would say, "Red, now you are being smart. Use your head." My mom's best advice came to me by watching her and seeing her actions. Her mantra is, "Just get it done." It is simple but extremely powerful and effective.

I love you both and hope one day you will understand what I am trying to say to you. I want you to fulfill your dreams, no matter what they are. There is nothing that you will ever do that makes me not love you. I may get angry at times but I always love and support you. You will stumble. You will fall but hopefully you will have enough of me, your grandparents, your aunts, cousins, and friends, in you that you will stand back up and keep on going.

Love,

Shonté (aka Mom)

Loss of Innocence - Updated

Loss of Innocence

Loss of Innocence

 

Life is funny and I am definitely one who has learned to find the humor whenever possible. Even when things are grim, the circumstances are tragic...I've always been the one to try to use humor to help lighten the situation. I guess it has always been that way. Don't get me wrong. There have been and are times in my life when I can't find the funny side. Times when I have fallen and felt like I could not get back up. But with the help of friends, family and a strong will that was genetically passed down to me (and learned) I rubbed some dirt on it and moved on.

 

One of the things, or should I say many things, is when you stop being a child. The exact moments when parts of your innocence is lost. For some people a jaded place takes root. For some it becomes a black tarnish on their soul, aura, and very being. It becomes a hated spot deep inside because the blinders come off.

The first loss of innocence, for me, when a very, very close friend was diagnosed with Leukemia as a teen. I didn't understand it and I didn't cope with it very well. I never visited him in the hospital because I could not face the fact that someone not much older was sick. He died and I still was in denial. At the funeral I sat at the back row of a very packed church. I got up and left because I STILL was in denial. There was NO way someone close to my age, that I loved as a friend and spent a great deal of time with.

I realized that people close to you die but it truly had not hit home yet. That came with the loss of my Papa. I worked at the hospital in the kitchen as my college job, and my mom was my boss. He had been admitted. We knew it was bad but I didn't realize how bad until my mom pulled me into her office and told me that the doctor had given him 6 months to live and it was a brain tumor.

I walked into the hallway, saw my big, burly, larger than life, Paul Bunyan Papa in a wheelchair. I broke down crying. One more piece of innocence lost. They took him home and that is where he remained. For about a month I avoided going to visit which was a RARE thing for me. This was the home I had spent EVERY summer, all summer and every vacation and every weekend I could. This is where I went between college classes to hang out, have lunch etc. I had even lived there for a time. I couldn't face the fact that a man I loved so very, very much was leaving me. I was angry. I was SCARED. I didn't know how to talk to someone who was going to leave and never return.

Another piece of innocence was lost.

I finally did muster the courage to face myself and my fears and I went to him. I went into the bedroom, sat down, and started crying. I apologized for leaving him. He wasn't as big. He had already given up. I hadn't deep inside. There was that spark of hope that this was a mistake on the doctor's part. He waited for me to stop bawling, pulled me close to his hospital bed and said, "I understand. I love you." He forgave me for something that to this exact day I have never forgiven myself for. I didn't miss another day with him until he died. I wasn't there when he died though. I had driven home hurriedly to shower and change. He passed while I was not there. Courtney called me and said, "Shon...get back here now." I knew what had happened.

 

Another piece was gone but this time much, much bigger because mortality hit at that exact moment.

 

If my mom had just lost her father, and later her mother, then....I was going to lose them some day. I cried even more at the funeral. I mourned my Papa leaving me. No more creek trips. No more tractor rides. No more rice hauling trips in his big red semi. No more me fixing him lunch. No more watching baseball with him. But I suddenly realized one day I would lose my parents.

That was the hardest piece of innocence I have ever lost.

 

My Granny died years later and I mourned that I hadn't spent more time with her but I lived hours away, had two kids, a husband, a household and a full time job.

 

My father passed away 11 months ago today. For some reason I did not have my phone next to my bed that night before. But I woke up around 4:00 am. I had many missed calls and tons of text messages telling me to call home. I knew what had happened. I called and Courtney said, "Come home now. Dad is gone." My response was, "No. No. No. No he is NOT gone." I crashed to my knees and Dave came running out. I screamed and I cried. I was over 2000 miles away and I had NOT been there again.  I had visited in August and we had talked but once again we had not really had "THE" conversation that hangs over anyone's head who has a terminal illness. I avoided it. I teased him and we laughed. We watched TV together. He hugged me so many times and I never wanted to let go. My larger than life dad was going to leave me but wait! I still had that spark of hope.

 

Last year the last of my innocence died. I realized that one day I would lose the woman I love the most in the entire world. The woman who I am more like than anyone else. My sister, Sasha,  inherited Dad's demeanor and ability to dazzle people. I told people at his visitation that I got dad's figure and she got his personality. Courtney is mini-Stan except quieter.

 

But me...I get mom. I understand how she works because I work like her, well except physically because that woman gets stuff done. Oh and she cooks better than anyone I've ever known. I love this woman with my entire heart. There is NOTHING I would not do for her. But eventually I will lose her. Part of me is selfish and wants to go before because then I wouldn't lose that part of my heart and soul.

But then I remember a blog I wrote a few months ago. I pray every single night that I NEVER have to bury one of the girls. I could never survive and would not want to survive if I lost them. So I find myself torn between selfishness and knowing someday my heart will break.

 

My mom will read this and probably tell me she will whip my ass for even thinking that thought.

It is a loss of innocence and a conundrum. You know as you start to grow older that your parents begin to get older as well. No one escapes time. No one. Life moves on.

November 8th will mark two years. I will grieve quietly here 2000+ miles from the rest of my family.

I still hurt. Even after all this time. I still wipe tears away when I think of Dad. And now that Grandma has passed away I feel an even bigger hole. It hurts. It will never STOP hurting. There will always be a wound there. It will scar over a bit and will allow me to function but it will always be there. And sad as that sounds...I'm grateful because that scar means I have loved with all of my heart and soul.

So if you hear me talk about my father...understand if my voice catches and tears come to my eyes. Just nod but don't tell me you understand. Just let me know you are there for me if I need you. Hug me. Pat me on the shoulder.

 

 

"Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over...she became a butterfly."

RE: Phrases I Loathe

RE: Phrases I Loathe

*I wanted to update this list and really give it another go. I'm keeping all of the original rants the same but I wanted to add something.

As I have gotten older I still do not like the below phrases. I don't. But more than that I have come to not have the ability to deal with people who fly off the handle. You don't have to scream profanities. You don't have to try and use up every $5.00 word you grab from the dictionary. You can simply walk away. It's okay to do that. Not every phrase or derogatory thing thrown your way has to be addressed. Their anger/stupidity/anything is on THEM. How you respond makes it about you. So when someone makes you mad...laugh. That is the best response and it doesn't bring you down.

It is my day off and as usual I found myself up at the butt crack of dawn. It really sucks having insomnia. I'm pretty sure every evil thing that goes wrong in my life can be attributed to lack of sleep. Hair problems? Lack of sleep. Sex problems? Lack of sleep. ADHD? Lack of sleep. I get the whole aging thing but it doesn't mean I have to fucking like it. Suck it old age!!

For several weeks now I've been pondering phrases that make me see red. A couple have actually been directed to sweet, lil ol' moi. Imagine that indignity! Fuck a duck. I mean come on...bitches gotta hate but they don't have to be juvenile about it. So here are the phrases I hate the most and my response to them.

1. Who the fuck do you think you are? (This tops the list)

Well...I think I'm Shonte' and I'm pretty sure that I'm a Goddess in my world so that would essentially make me the ruler of everything. No, I did not wake up this morning and forget who I am.

Why do people say this? What point is there in asking this rhetorical question? Obviously it is a slight meant to infer that you do not have power over the speaker. I get that. But since I'm a Goddess I don't give a fuck.

2. Eat a Dick. (Usually followed by Cunt, Bitch or Whore)

This statement is usually thrown out by a very insecure crack whore. Okay I don't know if the person is a crack whore but I love saying that phrase. "Crack whore" or "Meth whore" are personal favorites because it conjures to mind a pock marked hooker that hasn't showered in weeks and is the town bike. But I digress.  Guys don't say this because it is one of their greatest fears. No guy likes some chick chomping down on his man bits and giggle berries. Only women toss this one out and there is only one response: Roll your eyes and say "Really? Really?"

3. Get over yourself.

Why should I get over myself? I like myself finally and have accepted that there may be one or two people on this entire Earth that do not feel the same way. Once again I understand the connotation to this remark. The speaker wants to demean the other and make them feel insignificant. Not gonna fucking work bitches because I need to direct you to #1 where I explain that I'm a Goddess. I can "get over" situations. I can "get over" life...but I'm not going to get over myself.

4. You can't tell me what to do.

Yes. I. Can. In fact if I just told you something...I did in fact tell you what to do. You, however, have this wonderful thing called free will in which you can decide whether or not to act. My response when someone tells me to go do something is a simple "yes" or "no." Nothing pisses off people more than one word responses. I love them when they aren't directed at me.

5. I feel sorry for... (your kids, your husband, your family, your friends, your dog..etc.) for being with you.

This is the only statement where I can almost become physically violent. I KNOW I should never use physical violence but this one will almost cause me to Hiroshima on someone. It is the unforgivable phrase to utter to me because I NEVER forget it. This isn't actually about feeling sorry for someone. It is trying to feel superior to them. I had a crack whore say this about my daughters simply because I told her to stop contacting me and my husband. She called me deranged for stating that a police officer showed up at my house looking for her. Uh..hello? A cop did show up.

This statement is the worst thing anyone can say to another because it is vile. You are dragging others into a verbal sparring match and it is always said by someone that has ZERO clue about your life.

Expressing sympathy, empathy and regret towards someone is fine. Feeling sorry for someone because of a situation is fine. But making this statement with the intent to make you feel like you are less than what you are or somehow you affect others badly...just wrong.

The bad thing is I've been guilty of these statements. I used to swear never to drop the "C" word at someone and I've used it a few times. I was mad. Do I regret it? Nope not one bit. The bitch deserved it and that is exactly what she was acting like. I've delivered it to a few guys as well.

We all get mad at people and sometimes it breaks down into a verbal, or written, argument. It's life. It happens to the best of us. And these are just the phrases that tweak my buttons and make me roll my eyes and say, "Really? Really? You can't do any better than this?"