Cavemen Games

Someone said to me today that women always bring out the potty mouth when they get horny. Yeah, I brought it on myself because I was talking about that movie *the ugly truth* on facebook. Good movie and most of its probably true. I've admittedly used some of those types of flirting tricks myself. (My family is from the South, where flirting is a sport, much like football is for men. We put on our mothers heels at 5years old and learn how to wiggle and sway when we walk. My mother has never been pleased by the lack of *sway* in my walk.)

Sometimes I get bored with the predictability of this game, but the guys who play don't bore me at all... so..... I can play it pretty well. I've never wanted a man who didn't think he wanted me first. Never had a problem keeping them either...more a problem was getting rid of them.

I knew what my commenter meant by the whole potty mouth thing. Maybe some girls do bring it out then. I've been known to do that too, but not really because I was horny. I get silent in that state of mind & body. I find my voice in order to get what I want though, because a guy, as a rule, doesn't get that if my lips have stopped moving they are waiting for a move from his. Bringing out the potty mouth seems to make this kind of guy horny. If getting what I want means saying *cock*...well its a small price to pay.

Yeah I've left that kind of guy on hold. Failed to return calls. Been busy when I wasn't and basically made him work for it. Seriously...they love the chase and want what they can't have most of all. The few times I was completely honest, it didn't work out nearly as well for me or them. The men grew bored. Truthfully so did I.

I know there are guys who don't play those games...but they tend to be too cerebral for my tastes.... I tend to like the cavemen types who play these type of games. These guys have to be boss or you will never see them wearing a tent. If I am going to be silent, they like to think it was them that shut me up by giving me a taste of their testosterone and God knows I get high off that stuff... If all I need to do is say *cock* to get a dose of it...well its not like anyone can wash my mouth out these days....

Thankful for Unanswered Prayers

What better time of year to discuss those things we are thankful for?

I am so grateful for all the wonderful things in my life....but also grateful for things that I don't have in my life, maybe things I thought I wanted but in hindsight, realize they would not have been good for me.

I'm grateful my family is nosy enough to check on me and makes me socialize even when I want to crawl into a hole and hibernate. They keep me from falling victim to my emotions by forcing me to deal with their love for me....even when I want to forget everyone. Because of them I can never suffer from depression for long. When I hide....they find me and drag me out.

I'm grateful for the life of my former husband, no matter how many times I once wished he'd just go away. No we could never be a couple again but we are friends again. We have become who we once were and not the awful versions we were for a while. He's there for our children and even for me (though I strive not to take advantage of him). So I'm thankful that he didn't drop dead when I wished it. I no longer want him completely out of my life. He's been my friend since I was 4 years old.

I'm grateful that my job offers, while good, did not offer me the peace of mind or flexibility that my current job does. I had forgotten for a moment in time how perfect this job was for me and how much I love it. I am happy to go to work and work with people I enjoy at a job I do well.




I'm grateful for all those romances that didn't last too. Happy to have had more than one chance at happiness and yet be able to walk away when things didn't work knowing that I would not die, that I would wake up another day ready to love again. I'm grateful for the things I've learned from these men and the joy we shared for a time. Because of them, I know more of who I am, what I want to put into and get out of a relationship and I have confidence because through their eyes, I could see how I looked to them, and sometimes it was very sweet. I'm happy that I've known them.

So while we are grateful for our blessings....lets also be grateful for our fates. Maybe there really is a plan....Now if I could only find a map....I think I'd be ok!

May you all have a happy Thanksgiving and be blessed and surrounded by those you love and who love you back.

An unopened gift.

There's a lot of love in the world. There's a lot of love in me. The thing is we waste love by not using it.

Love isn't any good just sitting in our hearts. We have to put it out into the world. It needs a recipient to work its magic. If its not given, and when its not taken, it can turn into ugly festering things.

I tried to give mine away recently. For him I think it turned into self centeredness and narcissm. Not the stuff you usually think about but more a self protective shell that insured that he would not need another for fulfilment. To me it is sad, and a little painful to have my efforts rejected.

Sometimes when one doesn't know what to do, one does nothing and that is the worst thing of all.

For me, it is the frustration of being left holding a wondrous gift that was never even opened because the recipient neither seen the need for such a gift nor acknowledged the desire for it.

I still have my gift but it remains unopened and on a shelf for the time being.

It taunts my pride but even that doesn't change the beauty that outshines the packaging.

Someone will want this gift one day, and I'm glad that I still have it.

Hot and Cold

Maybe I'm just stupid. I don't understand all this hot and cold shit that men do. I want a certain amount of stability and comfort in my relationships. I want to feel like I am where I am wanted. I want to count on truth.

I hate stereotypical stuff. I keep finding it though. Men chase after me. Sometimes it even gets on my nerves with all their bold words and impossible promises. They think nothing of interupting my schedule during this chase. Its like I can't be anymore than I am and they can't get enough of that. Once I accept them it quickly cools. Usually I find this stage, initially, quite a relief. Its certainly less pressure and potential embarrassment.

The part I don't like is the last part. The part where I don't matter. Usually that is where I dump them without an opportunity for reparation.

It takes all kinds

People judge you by the company you keep.

Sometimes I wonder what people think of me and sometimes (like when they find out that I am friends with a couple criminal lawyers), I'm not left wondering long. Why do people feel they have a right to judge another's judgement?

In addition to lawyers and people of all religions, professions, and colors of skin, and in addition to my normal people and professional associates, I have friends who are homeless, have facial piercings, are gay or bisexual and even one who has been committed a couple of times. She's fine when she isn't crazy. Some of the people I mention have or have had problems with drugs and alcohol. I don't hang out with them all at once....most of my friendships are one on one. People like me and Iike them. I have a rather famous if distant cousin who was often quoted as never having met a man he didn't like. I get that.

Sometimes I think of my funeral, and I giggle. It ought to be a pretty good show. I wish I could live to see it.

Sometimes it just doesn't work out when it should

I did go out with Tall & handsome again. The second date was just as delightful as the first. Perfect. We are perfect companions. We agreed to a tenative 3rd date and I was supposed to contact him or he me... We both froze. I'm kind of glad he did because I didn't want to reject him. He is perfect. He should be my perfect match and I his. It was too perfect. I would have suggested friendship but he's not looking for friends. I'm sure he has plenty as do I (but of course I'm kind of greedy in the friend department).

So about 3 or 4 days after I was trying to force myself to call him. I was already coming down with the cold I am now suffering from and I realized we both deserved more and I didn't call. I can almost see the poor guy going through the same thing and being worried over whether or not I would be hurt and then shrugging it off just like I did. That's not going to happen to us. We are both confident and realistic. That was a week ago. I hope to run into him again someday. I hope he is with a beautiful and sometimes annoying woman who can rub him wrong and then rub him right again. Too much agreement is not a good thing....we were perfect for each other though... How boring is that?

Perfect does not equate with passion. You need a spark for passion. A rub to light the fire. Wind to fan the flames. Fuel for desire.

I don't want Mr. Right. I'm still looking for Mr. Notquite Rightinthehead.

I'm a forward thinker. I've always been the one who wondered what things meant in future tense. I don't think that's a bad thing so long as it isn't taken to extreme. It is bad though, when it prevents one from learning from the past or enjoying the present. Today matters and yesterday mattered too.

I think it is good to remain as balanced as you can. To appreciate the moment rather than to wonder about what a moment means.

This all goes along with my focus on clarity. To have a clear vision of what is true, we must not just look ahead, but look around and behind to see the whole picture.

I've concentrated so much on the fore and aft at times, I am blind to what is all around me. I am surrounded by friends and family who love me and I need to appreciate them now. Not at a future time because future times may not occur, and not just to rehash past fun times when we could be creating new memories.

Life is good right now. I plan to enjoy each moment.

A Perfect First Date

Ok...this one is written for the guys who have emailed me and said things like "I have no idea what you women want" or "Its a different world baby..." etc....

I had a perfect first date tonight. It lasted approximately 2 1/2 hours. Enough time to show me his basic humanity, a glimmer of his sense of humor and develop a curiosity in me to learn more about him. We met at a restaurant ON TIME. I can not emphasise enough that it was ON TIME. He was not there early scoping the women who entered out in case I wasn't up to what he thought I should be nor was he late, making sure that I was there first in a game of *lets see who is most important*.

He was perfectly charming at the door and met me with a smile and a hug. He did not try to feel me up. He opened the doors and then allowed me to pass him and to choose where we sat. Good manners.

He didn't muddle very long over the menu and allowed me to order for myself (it would also have been acceptable if he took my order and relayed it for me). He wasn't worried about perfect table manners but he also was not a pig. He offered me a taste of his dinner and I politely declined, but it was nice to be offered. I offered him some of mine too. I should have offered sooner because he was full by then. Its been a while since I've been on a real date. I have to brush up on my niceties.

After dinner we went for a drive. He was very entertaining and talkative along the way. I did not have to handle the conversation by myself. He kept his flirtations lightweight and only danced on the edge of attraction, while still making it clear that he was attracted to me. I definitely felt very sexy with his eyes all over me but it wasn't like he was leering y'know. Since I am still trying to lose a few pounds I put on after my last crisis....it felt really good.

He then asked me out on another date to watch a movie. I liked that he knew what he wanted to do instead of expecting me to plan it for him. We chose a movie to see together. I liked that too. I chose 3 and he picked from them. I was happy too because his choice was my first choice (Sandra Bullock in All About Steve). Then he drove me back to my car. We talked for a few minutes and I determined he could pick me up for our date.

We exchanged business cards so I could give him directions. Then he actually asked if it was ok to kiss me. I was hoping he would and told him so. I can't tell you how refreshing this was. There was no ackward positioning because you didn't see it coming or any embarrassment over waiting for something that never did. It was a really good first kiss. Romantic and sweet with a hint of a passionate nature. He didn't try to strangle me with his tongue....but he made sure he knew what my lips tasted like. I liked it alot. After I left his car and returned to mine, he made sure I was ok with him leaving. Chilvary really isn't dead. I smiled the whole drive home. Hopeful and pleased.

He also did not call me while I was driving. I like that too because it is very dangerous, most guys don't even take that into consideration. Again with the chilvary.

I feel good about the whole experience and can't wait to go out with him again.

That is how to do a first date right. Be a gentleman, but be strong. Have your own ideas and voice. Show us who you really are, but be interested in us too. A peek into your soul and a cuddle later. Leave us wanting. Half the fun of romance is the anticipation.

I don't know how much the date cost him, some gas and Logans (which is a great first date place) for dinner. It made him appear like a million bucks to me though. It was real and geared specifically for us to get to know each other not to *do* each other.

You can feel free to use this as a plan if you want. I don't think he'd mind. Trust me....it impresses the girls.

The Dating Game

Well the dating games seem to be kind of stagnant. I've had a few more of my coffee/drink dates since I last wrote. The men are getting better, I'm not saying that just because I'm dying to get physical again either.

Two dates were *set ups* and one was from the internet, I never met any of them before. All of them were gentlemen and perfect companions, but while I would hope to keep them for friends if they have time and I have time....I can't see anything deeper springing from those meetings. I did meet one guy for soda who seems interesting but shy. I wonder if he might be a better date after we know each other for a while. Not likely though. I'm surprised he had the courage to ask if I would meet him. I also *hung out* with an old friend who wishes for more. I still don't feel *that* way about him, we're still friends though.

The only so-called *date* I was hyped about didn't happen. The guy spoke with me on the phone one time, indicated that he would like to go out with me, then never called again. I texted him my regular email....maybe he just didn't really like the person he called. Bummer. I liked him. Guess it works both ways sometimes. I thought about calling him and finding out why but I suspect he would think I am some crazed stalker rather than simply curious.

These early meetings are more like job interviews than dates anyway. Its so stressful. I usually try to keep it casual at first (probably a contributing factor to the non-caller since I didn't jump on his dinner date at a fairly upscale restaurant). I think that is the best way to meet someone....you get a little closer to the real person in a relaxed setting without a lot of focus on perfect manners and the eventual cost. Even then it feels more like a mutual interview. *What do you do for fun?* Hobbies? What do you like? What do you do for a living? (have to be real careful with that one or you sound like you are a gold digger) Do you like your work? How many siblings...kids....exes? Seriously, sometimes I think we both should be taking notes!

Sometimes they ask about sexual practice these days too.

There has to be a better way to meet single men! I can't do the bar fly thing either. Despite the recent urban legends....I don't have any luck at the grocery store either.

I like activities. If you suggest to a guy to grab a coffee and lets take a walk along the East Race though....well crazy isn't the least of the descriptors they are thinking. I always mention I like the College Football Hall of Fame and the Studebaker Museum. I like any museum really....but at a first meeting? It just doesn't happen. I think it would be less stressful, easier and more honest if people did something other than sit ramrod straight and try to keep a conversation going on with a perfect stranger for 2 hours over a soda, beer or coffee.

I hate to think about spending my life alone but sometimes I do. Dating was a lot more fun when I was a teenager

Hope Springs Eternal

I started dating again. Not *real* dating. But I've gone on two lunch dates and met a guy for coffee. 3 different men in the last few weeks. I actually caught myself looking at the last guy's watch as I sipped my cappuccinno. I seriously want to find real lasting love but I hate the whole looking for it bit. Each one of those guys is and will remain a first date only.

The first one didn't ask me one personal question, nor answer any of mine directly. He just kept going on and on about his work situation and what an idiot his boss was.

The second date was with a gentleman (and I use the term loosely) who wanted to talk about all the bizarre sexual things he had seen on the internet whilst acting like he was embarrassed by such things. I suspect the truth was he was gauging my reaction. My reaction was basically a blank stare as if it was all perfectly normal.

Mr. Double Latte bored me by trying to prove his masculinity to me by all the road rage incidents and fights he had gotten into. Bad boy from Brooklyn. yeah right. He was barely bigger than me and not a callous on his hands. He used to be rich he says but the women pretty much used up his money. (Like I care) To say the least....I remained unimpressed.

During this time another guy tried to impress me by saying he was a cop. Turned out the truth was he was a former security guard and was now trying to get disability because the bump he got on his head during an arrest had somehow given him brain damage but he can manuever a blackberry like no one's business. BTW he lives with his mother. Needless to say the more I got to know the less I wanted to know and I politely declined his request for a date.

I would kill for a construction guy with a conscience at this point. How about a factory worker? I'd date a real cop or even a business man or engineer/scientist type if their ego wasn't too big. Are there any single farmers out there? Where oh where is average (and almost normal) Joe? How do I meet all these other weirdos?

I keep hoping.... I keep trying.... I just hate all the dating.

What's it all mean?

I found this so fascinating that I am posting it on all my blogs. Seriously. Answer the question at the end if you want....I'm interested on your take on this.



What's it all mean?

I am exceptional....but not the exception

I am exceptional. I’m also a little conceited sometimes….but exceptional nonetheless.
I am exceptional…. At least I was. I should be still. I could be still.

It happens a lot with a lot of people who break up after long term relationships and marriages, we forget who we could be without the anger and pain. We all compensate a little differently. . I started looking for why a relationship wouldn't work instead of looking at what was right about them. Then I would analyse why it was really my fault and think of ways to hide my shame, including shifting the blame. I began to believe that fairy tales were for children and that I didn’t need anyone. Publicly I blamed them, internally I blamed me. Truthfully there is enough blame for everyone. made me ever think so high of myself...that I should be the perfect one.

I am exceptional, truly we all are.....but even I don't believe it most of the time.

My dating problems are not even about “He’s just NOT that into you” . The kind of man I want isn’t *into me* because I haven’t been living out who I am…. I write in her voice sometimes and visit her life occasionally….but I sure haven’t been living that life recently. I remember who I am but I’ve forgotten how to be her. That’s not true either….I’ve become too bored and lazy to be her. Sometimes, when success comes too easy, people become complacent.

That’s what I did. To paraphrase Greg Behrendt, I wasted my *pretty*. I let other people take over my life, I tried to make them happy instead of doing what I needed to do for my kids and myself.

Where is this all coming from? Didn’t I seem fine the last time I wrote something here? Not to worry, I was and am. Its just I have had an epiphany. An epiphany I could have had sooner if I hadn’t been too cheap to buy myself a book or see a movie when I wanted to but didn’t feel I deserved to. Instead I patted myself on the back for my unselfishness when I bought more chips for my son with the weight problem that is breaking his heart and ruining his health. I did it to make him happy *right now* instead of in 6 months when, without chips, he will be healthier, have more confidence and be more attractive. That may not bring him inner peace but it will make him content a lot longer than those chips did. My reading this book will make him happier too…because a happy mom almost always means a happy kid.






This week I have read “He’s just NOT that into you no less than 6 times”. I have watched the movie 4 times over the last 2 days. I’ve realized the truth. I am exceptional. I am not the exception though. I don’t even want to be. I am the rule.

Clarity. The word of the year. This is what it means. It means that I have to focus on me in order to be a better mother….daughter…..sister……friend….even employee. It means that I will not allow the mere remote possibility of romance or even friendship to color my days or affect the way I live them. When I love myself, the way I deserve, I will be better able to love the people in my life the way they deserve to be loved. It is impossible to give away what you don’t already have.

We are eating healthier around here and I’m going to try to quit smoking again. At the very least cut back down to a pack or less. I don’t want to yet, but smoking is self destructive and I’m done with self destructive. I had success with a local free program once and I am going to try that again. Right now I am tapering down…. I remember that from before.

The truth about my love life is it isn’t just that he (take your pick which he) was not that into me…its been that I was NOT that into me.



This doesn’t mean that I am going to be all self centered and me me me….. It means I realize that is what I have been doing. Wallowing in my misery. Comfortable in it. Too stubborn to be who I once was…..who I should be. Its so much easier to pretend everything is some guy’s fault instead of looking at where I am screwing up. Its so much easier to pretend I am satisfied with life as it is than to do the actual work it takes to change it back to what I want it to be. I was too embarrassed to ask for help or support before. Need was just another word for failure.

I lied when I say I don’t need anyone. I can’t make things work on my own. I am not superhuman after all. I'm never going to be even close to perfect. I’m not the exception…. I am the rule.

Clarity. Epiphany. Oh I like those words.

Its time I stop living up and living down to other’s expectations of me. Its time I live up to my own.

Belief vs. Behavior

I lost a friend today or at least someone I thought was a friend. It was stupid really. He was goading me about my beliefs because he is a die-hard atheist. Obviously I am not. I tried very hard to be diplomatic and even agree with him on several points with reference to organized religion. It was supposed to be one of those "Free thought" conversations. I should have known better. Instead of diplomacy he returned what I can only describe as rabid scorn. He insulted my intelligence, my beliefs and insisted he could do a better job with humanity than God himself. "Loser" was the term he used to describe him.

I don't pretend to know all there is..... Who could? I don't know why bad things happen to good people. Bad things have happened to me too.... I don't blame God though. I blame the people who do these things.

He seems to think that men have done all good by themselves as well. As if we are responsible for our own creation. I don't see it that way. The more I understand science the more I understand that there is more to it than that.

I've personally experienced what even doctors considered miracles. Doctors are still scientists right? I should not have lived the day I was born and so many miracles since then. No scientific reason....it could be just dumb luck but the laws of probability say no. That is science too.

My point is I have very good reasons to believe the way I do. Maybe he does too but I couldn't find it in the hatred and the blame he was vomitting at me.

He is entitled in these United States to be be free "from" religion just as I am entitled to be free to choose my own faith. I respect that. What he is not free to do is insult me and try to engage me in a battle of wits....on this or any other planet.

I've chosen not to have this person in my life. Not because he is atheist. I have several atheist friends. I've stopped being his friend because he is an asshole.

Have any of you been put in that kind of position?

Time

I removed dates from this site because I didn't want to put anything on here that was time sensitive...sometimes it looks as if every thing is happening all at once here though doesn't it?



Time is funny that way. Moments and hours seem to take the same amount of time. Days and years. Its all reflective and subjective to me that way.




Oh well....just a weird thought I was having as I reflected on earlier posts and wondered whether or not I should put actual dates on this site. Decided no.... My feeling is that this page is for somewhat universal emotion, experiences and thought. Time has no place within them except as a subject.

Trust V. Love

Have you ever wished that you were not quite as intelligent as you are. People say ignorance is bliss and some days I think they are right. There is a person whom I care about that is constantly trying to pull the wool over my eyes, so to speak. The problem is I can see right through the wool and I am insulted and hurt by these actions.

So I called this person out on it and that person seems to think that "I'm sorry" is somehow enough. Its not the first time this has occurred. I don't know what is enough. I just know that "I'm sorry" doesn't cover lies and manipulation for me. It doesn't wash the insult to my pride that the opinion that person held of me was so low as to consider me ignorant. "I'm sorry" has nothing to do with it. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry this person failed me. I find myself actually wishing I didn't have such high standards of morality and ethical behavior, because my life would be easier if I didn't. I'm sorry for being a good person....and that's just wrong on so many levels. No one should want to lower their standards for the sake of friendship. Friendship should make us want to be better people, not lesser people.

I want to care about this person but I don't know how to rebuild the trust.

Love seems to be about emotions. Trust, has to be earned....and once lost, it has to be earned back. Which is more valuable?

Betrayal sucks.

age old question.

Why are men so afraid of intimacy? I don't want a man who avoids serious issues or is afraid to feel real emotion. I may not want a cry baby but I damn well want a reaction. I think most women have the same complaint. I'm sooooo sick of little boys.

Happy Lent....and I mean it.

Ash Wednesday again. I’m not Catholic, most of my family is though, so every year I find myself pondering and practicing Lent in some form or another. As a teen and younger adult I found the whole idea stupid. I have never been big into self-denial and most of the things that people seem to be giving up *for Lent* seems, to me, to be self serving and usually things they ought to give up anyway.

Swearing. Now there’s one I’ve done. Picked it right back up too. Smoking....oh the failures I’ve seen here.....the last 5 years I gave up fast-food. Not because I thought Micky D’s made me less spiritual but because I gain a few pounds in my Winter hibernation and Lent is as good a reason as any to go on a diet. Two birds with one stone. I’ll do that again this year, but I’m not even going to try to convince anyone it is for Lent. It is to better serve my vanity and ego. It’s a diet. Most Catholics give up meat on Friday and only eat fish (which I still consider meat....it is, after all, animal flesh). I’ll do that too, but not because its Lent or because its Friday....how about because I LIKE fish and its healthy and low in calories. Once again, its self-serving.

3 years ago I started practicing niceness during Lent. Not everyday kind of niceness, but the go-out-of-your-way-to-be-nice kind of thing together with the fish and fast-food diet. I felt better. Last year on my other blog I layed out what I thought everyone should at least consider doing for Lent: I’m not giving anything up for Lent. I think that was one of the best pieces I’ve ever written. I asked this question of my readers then and I’m asking it again today:

Can't we practice Lent

in joyful giving instead

of in meaningless sacrifice?

I think we can.

Don’t give up biting your nails. Give up an hour to read to a child.

Don’t give up chocolate. Make a daily visit to a lonely person and share the chocolate.

Don’t stop swearing. Swear while you fix something on your older neighbor lady's house.

Don’t give up yelling. Start smiling at strangers.

Don’t try to make yourself less bad, try to make yourself more good.



If we really look at the reason why we give up something for Lent it is because God gave up his only son for our salvation. Maybe the point is not in the sacrifice but in the result. Salvation. Saving. Rescuing.



God made the great sacrifice. Incidently, and I am sorry for those I will most certainly offend, God’s son is there with him now. Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father even now by the beliefs of most Christians. What really happened is that God gave. It was the gift....not the sacrifice that was the point of it all.



God gave us the gift of a second chance at life everlasting. God gave us an instructor to show us the way. God left the Word to inspire us and to give us hope. God made our lives better.



Wouldn’t it be better to practice Lent by making the effort to improve the life of someone else? Isn’t that more fitting than giving up stuff we think is going to impress God? Isn’t a quiet act of kindness more pleasing to Him than our bragging about the stupid minor little self-serving sacrifices we make year after year?





Maybe...just maybe.... God created cocoa so we could enjoy a chocolate shake....We don’t know that God wants us to give that up. Nowhere in the Bible does it say "thou shalt eschew chocolate". We do know that God wants us to be good to each other....

9 Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them.
Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good.
10 Love each other with genuine affection, and take
delight in honoring each other. 11 Never be lazy, but
work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically.
12 Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble,
and keep on praying. 13 When God’s people are in need,
be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality.

Romans 12:9-13 New Living Translation Bible

Maybe the real way to make ourselves better people is not to concentrate so much on the things we think make us less appealing and find a way to appeal to others in ways that really mean something.

That’s how I am going to practice Lent. I’d rather give back than give up. Its easier, and I feel better about it. Yep....its still self-serving.

Stoopid Cupid

I've been unofficially single for about 6 weeks now. I made it official about 2 weeks ago. Men are already turning into vultures. I didn't think I looked so desperate. Maybe I smell like fresh meat because they are acting like carnivores. Too many propositions to mention. Just way too many for me to want anything so very very common. "no I am not going to date another man who works in this building...sorry too close for comfort" "no, I'm afraid that it would ruin a perfectly good friendship...sorry....", "no, its just too soon.....(as if I have regrets)", "no, I just want to concentrate on : my kid, my house, my career, my writing, my friends, me...." NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously I am not that cute. No one is THAT cute.

Why is it that men think that anytime a woman is single that she is on the market? I try to give polite refusals but from the incredulous reactions I am getting, they just don't believe that I am not interested in climbing on another merry-go-round. I don't need a man to complete me. At this point I am not even sure I want one.

Right now there is so much I can do.

I can blow my nose without hiding in the bathroom. I can wear my sweats whenever and whereever I damn well please. I can skip the make-up, not to mention I don't even have to brush my hair if I don't want to. I can have cereal for dinner. I get to control the remote. That's right.... I have the power baby!!!! If some guy beeps in while I am talking to my sister...I can just keep right on talking and let him handle the voice mail. I can hang out with my guy friends without worrying that the green eyed monster is gonna show up. I don't have to pretend I am helpless to make some little boy feel like a big man. I can do it on my own now Sugar.

I don't have to explain myself to anyone.

I don't have to tell anyone where I am going to be or schedule around stuff.

I can buy what I want at the grocery store.

I can waste the beer on my hair.

I always get the last cup of coffee.

And if I have gas....well I bet you can guess.

Life is sweet. Maybe I'm not getting any heart shaped boxes this year but I can buy myself my own chocolate anyway.

Cupid hasn't been that nice to me. Its about time he gets what he deserves!!!

Well it is Valentine's Day isn't it.

Dear President Elect Obama,

Hello Sir.

I voted for you. I knew I would a long time back. It was still reluctantly. My vote would have been reluctant for anyone. Eight years of an oppressive and uncaring administration have done me in. You see us though. The once huge but ever shrinking middle class and working poor who were middle class before. I thank you for that. Its good to be noticed. Its been a long time.

I didn't vote for you because you are black, although the historic significance is not lost on me. All we need now are a few more minorities to hold office and maybe people will quit caring about race, gender and religion in politics. That is not my issue though. Still I congratulate you for breaking that barrier. I'm glad it happened in my lifetime.

I didn't vote for you because I think your plans are so great though. They are just regular plans and frankly, you could use some work in your algebraic computations.

While I agree that the rich should be taxed higher (actually higher than you propose), I think it is complete and utter foolishness to provide a tax break to the rest of us. Sorry. The "x" you are looking for is basically the sum of money that will be used to pay down the deficit so my children and grandchildren are not stuck with the former Administration's debts. Seriously, all algebra really amounts to is finding the missing number. Please let me know when you solve this equation. I'd sure like to know how too. Tax breaks won't help you though. I hope you reconsider the scope of your plan.

I didn't vote for you because I think you will make it so I can afford health care again. I still don't see why we don't have a national health care insurance. All the other civilised countries have one. I'd rather pay taxes for that than get a tax break. Basic and free health care should be a basic right.

Nope I didn't vote for you because your health care plan is so great either. Its not (though I appreciate that you won't tax me on one of the few benefits I could get from an employer given the current state of the economy).

I didn't vote for you because I think you are going to set the moral example for my family and me. I set that example. Your wife and girls are lovely though. Your behavior and manners are too natural to be anything else. Obviously you come from good stock. We are a bunch of (sorry Mom!) red-skinned red-necks though and kind of rowdy to boot. I admire watching people like you though. I just put more stock in other things.

I didn't vote for you because I think you will get us out of Iraq or keep us from other wars. I think you will try your best though. I don't believe that even you can make the USA feel safe again. That takes time and a lot of it. We've been through too much.

Honestly I know that you can't fix anything really well in 4 years. I don't expect you to. The reason I voted for you was because, without any other reason than the fact that you believe we can make this country great, I can feel the hope rising across this nation.

I voted for you President Elect Obama, not because I truly believe that one man can change the world but because I believe one man can inspire one country to change the world.

I believe that you, sir, are a catalyst.

So I voted, reluctantly but with HOPE.

Hope for better days ahead.

My hope is that it is as contagious for the rest of my country.

You touch our hearts. Even cynical hearts like mine. I hope you spread it like the flu.

That's your real power.

Good luck and Godspeed Mr. Obama, you will need it.

The final version

There is a shorter version on my personal page, I posted it about a month ago, but this is the story that is being edited for the South Bend Tribune for publication sometime next month. It will need to be cut for space, I am a bit over on the word count. I wanted to present the unedited version here though.

A Cherokee Wedding
By Tressa Bailey (sister of the bride)

August 30, 2008, was a beautiful Summer Day. It was the end of the Fruit Moon and the 56th Cherokee National Holiday. It was too hot for an outdoor wedding, but like the ancestors that I am sure witnessed us from Heaven, we endured. This was the day that my sister, Rhonda Bailey would be joined forever with her love, Dave Buwa. Our parents (Ronald and Frances Bailey) and Dave’s parents (Marvin and Anna Buwa) had been planning this wonderful day for what seemed like ages, but was truthfully only a matter of months. Both families descend from the tribe of the Cherokee.

The guests, who dressed casually, mingled as we watched Chief Edgar WhiteWolf, assisted by his wife, Karen, consecrate the sacred circle where the wedding of my sister, Rhonda and Dave Buwa would soon be taking place. Chief WhiteWolf called out to the Great Spirit and our beloved ancestors to bless this union and all who attended.

It is interesting to note that while Cherokees are allowed to choose or reject their own mates, in order to participate in a wedding ceremony, they are required to get the favorable opinion of a Shaman. Since our tribe does not have an official Shaman, Chief acted in that capacity and met with the couple, instructed them and finally gave his approval of the union.

Most of the costumes worn by the wedding party were authentic costumes, hand made by our Mother, but our nephew, Adam Bailey, made his own costume as did the Chief and his wife. Cherokee women don't get to wear the sexy outfits that are commonly depicted in old movies. We are required to be fully covered and modest.

We entered the consecrated circle in the traditional clockwise manner, were handed a small packet and took our seats. Families sit together. Singles sit separately. The smells of sage and tobacco permeated our senses but it was a lovely smell, not at all like cigarettes, because this was untreated tobacco. The tobacco was not meant for smoking. Sage had been burned to bless the circle before we entered, much the same way that certain religions burn incenses in their churches. The Cherokee way of faith seems very ceremonial and mystical at times.

L to R, Frances Bailey, Anna Buwa, Rhonda and Dave Buwa, Chief Edgar WhiteWolf

Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be
shelter for the other.

Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be
warmth to the other.

Now there is no more loneliness, for each of you will
be companion to the other.

Now you are two persons, but there is only one
life before you.

Go now to your dwelling to enter into the days of your life
together.

And may your days be good and long upon the earth.

The couple stood before the Chief and the mothers of the couple stood behind them. Cherokees have a matrilineal family tree. This means that family lineage and inheritance is passed down the line of the female rather than the male as is common in most societies.

Rhonda wore a traditional tear-dress, in white, and carried a basket with ears of corn to represent that she would take root and care for the family, Dave wore a Cherokee white ribbon shirt and carried a basket of meat indicating that he would nourish and support the family. Blue blankets were draped about the couples’ shoulders at the beginning of the ceremony by their mothers, covering them in symbolism, mostly about solitude, reflection and loyalty. They each have their own blanket to represent their separate beginnings. Behind Chief there was a basket holding the few remaining white-wrapped gifts of raw tobacco packets that were handed to each guest as we took our seats. These were given so that we might thank the Great Spirit for the couples’ love, by enriching the Earth at the end of the ceremony.

A wonderful event occurred during this ceremony. Two beautiful hawks (our family's totem consists of hawks and wolves. I've always considered myself a wolf, which is the minority, but my sister Rhonda considers herself a hawk) began circling the consecrated ground. This was considered a wonderful omen, a blessing from our ancestors and the Creator. I believe in omens like this. The circle became steadily smaller until the hawks were almost hovering above Rhonda and Dave. I silently said “Hi” to our Grandpa, Aunt Shirley and Cousin Sue, who had joined the Great Spirit years earlier. I believe it was their spirits which were directing the Hawks. I'm sure they wanted to celebrate my sister finding the happiness she has always deserved.

L to R, Frances Bailey, Anna Buwa, Rhonda Bailey, Dave Buwa (covered), Chief Edgar WhiteWolf

Above you are the stars, below you are the
stones.

As time does pass, remember, like the stars should your love be constant.

Like the stones should your love be firm.

Be close yet not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding

Have patience with each other, for storms will come, but they will go quickly.

Be free in giving of affection and warmth and be serious to one another.

Have no fear, and let not the words of the unenlightened give you unease.

For the Great Spirit is with you, now and forever.

A May Naa (amen)

After the ceremony, but before the blessing, the mothers replaced the two blankets with a single white blanket symbolizing that the two were now one. The color was to symbolize the purity of their love, white is not required as much as the best fabric or hide available. It is more about placing the highest value on the partnership rather than the parts of the marriage.


Rhonda and Dave, with tears of happiness in their eyes, then turned to us and gave us their wedding testament:

“God in Heaven above, protect
the ones we love.

We honor all that you have created as we pledge our
lives and hearts together.

We honor Mother Earth and ask that our union
be warm and glowing with love in our hearts."

Many of the rest of us felt those tears too. For some of us, tears of relief that all obstacles had been conquered comingled with tears of joy that all promises and prayers had been answered. It seemed as if we, and not just they, had waited forever for this magical day. All was right with the world. Now they could rest in the comfort of each other and live in the security that is love.

Those few cynics amongst us believed in the power of faith and love once again, if only for a moment.

Adam Bailey dances

Adam Bailey, our nephew, danced a traditional tribal dance after the ceremony. He made his costume right down to the deer-hide laces used as thread. He hunted and killed the deer that the hide came from. According to the Cherokee way, not one part of the animal was laid to waste. What wasn't eaten was used for clothing or art. If scraps remain, they are buried, untreated, to nourish the Earth. Native Americans never kill animals indiscriminately. It is against our faith to waste the Earth or its creatures. He gathered and cleaned all the feathers in his headdress and accessories. The beads were made from twigs and stones and various other *found* objects. Cherokees try to recycle everything as a way of life and out of respect to the Earth that the Creator provided us.

After the dancing was completed, we guests blessed the ground with our tobacco and sent our prayers to the Great Spirit. We then went to the gift blanket to pick out our tokens from the happy couple. Cherokee people measure wealth, not by how much you retain, but by how much you give away. Cherokees give thanks for our blessings and events by giving, rather than receiving gifts.

The ceremony ended when we rejoined and completed the circle during our exit.

Rhonda and Dave Buwa, joined by their nephew Adam Bailey (center)

Afterwards we gathered for a pot-luck dinner and hog roast reception. If anyone left hungry it was their own fault.

I must note that while this is the ceremony that our family will recognize, it was technically not a legal marriage, nor sanctioned by most religions. Rhonda and Dave were married at the courthouse for legal reference, and also had a nondenominational Christian ceremony shortly before the Cherokee Ceremony began.

I think that any couple who goes to the trouble of being married three times, will certainly last forever. May the Great Spirit bless them both and keep them safe from harm.

Middle of the night pep talks.

I like routine. I like it when things happen in an orderly fashion. Unfortunately with the speed my life has been changing these days, its been a bit messy.

I'm cleaning up and organizing on many levels at work and home both. It keeps me up at night sometimes. I find myself in that limbo between sleep and waking and I wish I were coherent enough to make out lists.

Somehow though that weird midwaking is helping me keep mental lists even if I can't consciously write them out. Things are getting done. Not all things, but most things and all urgent matters. This is good. I may be catching the eggs just before they hit the floor....but I am catching them.

I find myself praying as I walk around the parking lot during my cigarrette break (yeah...God knows I smoke). I think it helps. I can lean on higher power instead of counting on myself.

Somehow I keep finding the right answers. Somehow I keep finishing the day before the next begins...

I'll be glad when normalcy returns though.

I miss order.

No appreciation

Some days I'm a bitch and some days....I'm even worse.

My BF is great. Lately I have been extremely overworked between home and career. Overwhelmed even. I've been upset because my house isn't clean, but I've also been trying to prove myself in an unfamiliar, ever changing career position.

He's been a rock.

He helped me clean my house today.

I'm grateful. Really am....just....sometimes I just want to be alone.

See I have problems sleeping. There is this part of me that needs....ABSOLUTELY NEEDS a couple of hours without ANY breathing human around me before I can sleep whenever I am stressed out. Unfortunately he is a living breathing human. I'm annoyed because this little bit of me is almost too weird to explain to a guy....but it makes me crazy ....him wanting to help me on work nights.

I try to be normal about it and accept his help cheerfully. I must have been convincing. He stayed here and napped on my chair for an hour before he left. I kept thinking *Why doesn't he just go* I'd be that much closer to my bedtime then..... I didn't say it though.

I'm trying real hard to give this an honest to goodness chance of working. He's a good man.

The thing is....

I just want to live with the mess until I have time to deal with it. Meanwhile....sleep would be good.

Pre Voting

Some things never change....

It seems some unscrupulous (not nice like most of them) Republicans are trying to stuff the ballot box again, at least virtually....

Yes I did find it on the site of a Democrat blogger...

So why doesn't everyone vote whatever they feel?

Is Palin Qualified? (you know my answer all ready...)

I think the odds are with us on this one.

At any rate PBS is using the blog for one of their documentaries.

In dire need of a megadose of hope

Awake at 1:30 a.m.

I dunno....hope this isn't a trend.

I'm thinking about life, in general. I'm worried about the state of our country but trying hard not to worry. It's out of my hands.

No that's not it exactly, maybe its because there's not enough of it in my hands.

I want to live 1994 or 1995 over. Personally those years were not my best but at least I don't remember the feelings of doom that I am feeling now. My problems were personal. I wasn't afraid of what would happen to my children 10 years from then. I wasn't afraid of what was happening in our country. Hell I wasn't afraid of what was happening in my county then.

There was hope....A deep sure knowledge that I lived in the safest land in the world. I was certain that my children would have an even better life than I, with more success and the serenity that comes from knowing no real harm can come to us here. I knew that Americans were the smartest people in the world. We were innovative, brilliant....we were always building the best mousetrap.

How the intervening years have corrected my vision.

I'm voting for the lesser of two evils.

I don't feel good about it.

I still hope though.... that crazy American hope that one man can make a difference.

Barack Obama, you have my vote. You have my support. I deem your inexperience superior to McCain's history. I choose your naivety over McCain's cynicism.

I still choose hope over fear.

Give me a reason to justify it.

I want explanations that are more comprehensive than you have been giving on the issues that are affecting me and mine. What are you going to do about the war in Iraq and when will we catch Osama bin Laden (nope we have not forgotten him)? What jobs are you going to help create for my children?, How do you expect to pay for your tax cuts? What will America invest in to jump start our economy again? (might I suggest nano technology?) Why is America the only civilized country without a national FREE health care system? Why is my little escort taxed the same gas rates as that idiot's SUV down the street (frankly there should be a bigger luxury tax on items that are bad for our economy and bad for our polution index)? How will you clean up the air those SUV's are destroying? How are you going to pay off the national debt? When will we call in our loans to other countries? Is America the only country that has to pay its bills? Have you considered legalizing and taxing marijuana like cigarrettes and alcohol? No I don't like the fact that people smoke that stuff either, but the fact is that they do and it isn't any worse than America's other vices....and potentially its a big money maker. Not to mention it would probably be harder for underage kids to get it if it were legal, not to mention the thrill would be half gone.

I guess I'm saying that I want answers and I want practical, applicable answers in a comprehensable yet fully understandable format.

You can do it if you try....if you don't worry about the next election and put your focus on the state of the union today instead.

Give me a reason for my hope....

It's only numbers......................

There are 10^11 stars in the galaxy. That used to be a huge number. But it's only a hundred billion. It's less than the national deficit! We used to call them astronomical numbers. Now we should call them economical numbers.

Richard Feynman

That means there are more dollars in the deficit than there are stars in the skies.

I can't believe this is what our forefathers perceived would happen at the Boston Tea Party.

U.S. NATIONAL DEBT CLOCK

The Outstanding Public Debt as of 10 Oct 2008 at 11:43:26 PM GMT is:

$10,269,969,272,979.61

The estimated population of the United States is 304,884,832so each citizen's share of this debt is $33,684.72.

The National Debt has continued to increase an average of$3.34 billion per day since September 28, 2007!Concerned? Then tell Congress and the White House!

Not a nice girl

Why is it that we women feel the constant need to be *nice* all the time?

I have found recently that all being *nice* does is cause me to live according to other's standards and not my own. Why can't it be *nice* to do what I want, believe what I want and not pay for other's screw ups. Who died and left me responsible?

While I still intend to be kind.... I'm not going to be nice about it. It is not my job to clean up everyone else's messes. Not my obligation to pay for someone else's sins. If someone does something that harms me or mine intentionally, I have every right to be angry. If I am insulted I intend to stand up for myself. Heaven help the fool who lies about me or spreads another rumor.

Its no longer my position in life to be the CHIEF BRINGER-OF-HAPPINESS or to be in the COMPANY-OF-MISERY.

I am not going to feel guilty because some things come easier or at least seem to come easier to me than to others, I'm just grateful that I have been blessed. ......and when I do something really wonderfully, I'm not going to say "it's nothing" because its SOMETHING. I generally work my butt off. I deserve the accolades!

I'm not going to apologize for being smart. Why should I? I'm not sorry. I'm not going to let other's steal credit for my ideas or worse, give them credit for my ideas to make their sorry egos feel better.

In short, I'm going to start acting a bit like some guys I know.

I'm not a *nice* girl. I am a fully grown and fully capable woman.

Sick of being sick

I realize that one of the reasons I am still unattached, at least residentially, to a man is that I can be a bitch. I like things my way. The right way of course. Especially when I am sick.

Right now I am sick. Some women sniffle daintily into proper tissues and speak softly in a weak voice while resting to the ones they love. Not me. I work until I drop dead from it, loudly complaining, hacking and sneezing with a sound that is undefinable. I snort too.

I don't want tender words of comfort from him. I want to be left ALONE in my misery. I am weak and that is bad enough without having anyone else share in the knowledge. I don't care if he thinks I need to be taken care of. I want to die independent dammit, without anyone seeing me get ugly verbally or physically (I don't look my best in swollen eyelids and red noses and trust me my smile is much easier on the eyes than my coughing fits and quieter too).

I don't want some guy hanging around dirtying up dishes or making me feel like I have to be sociable (that southern thing I still got going means that no matter what....if I have a guest I must feed them and attend to their needs). I don't want to work I want to freaking sleep. I want to feel comfortable knowing that no man is going to watch me not care if the tissue I just threw hits the basket or not. I want to be able to wear my ugly sweats that make me look and feel fat. They also are incredibly warm and comfy. I want to pick ALL the tv shows/movies. I don't want to be the considerate hostess who lets him pick what he wants to watch. I pay for my own cable dammit!

I hate being sick.

Be that as it may, even when I'm not sick I still don't want some man taking over my house. Its mine now. They waited too long. I've got my strength back. I make my own money and my own rules. I don't even think I really want to live with a man. I just want to have a relationship but one where they can go home or be sent there.

They are good for some things. I am less afraid when he is here. However I recently got a dog. I expect our little girl to get rather big eventually. Walter named her Dizzy. I don't know why. She is American Mastiff Bulldog and Minature American Eskimo Spitz. The Mama was the little one. She definitely looks bulldoggish except for the long curling tail. She has her Mama's butt. She's a lot friendlier than a gun and less hassle than a man when I am sick.

She knows how to handle me when I am sick already. She lays at my feet or back and looks out for me and doesn't bug me unless its for a good reason.

Why can't men be more like dogs?

Why do they call it falling?

I've been a party to a lot of romances. Some more serious than others. I've been in-love a few times. Every time is different. Every time is the first time. Every break-up hurts a little different. I'm still looking for that forever thing. I must have that spine of steel my Grandpa always said I had...or at least nerves of steel.

Science says we, especially women, are hardwired to want that. I believe it. In school we were taught that all we needed to live was food, water, shelter...but I think they should include love in that equation. See we also need to want to live. Not that I am suicidal or anything, I have love, lots of it, children, family, friends, and a longing and a hope for that someone one day.

Its frustrating to keep trying and keep failing time and time again. I feel battered and bruised inside sometimes and no doubt the men I've left behind feel much the same way at times. 6 1/2 billion people and so many of us can't find that "one". Love was easier 100 years ago when there weren't so many life choices and we all weren't so self sufficient that we didn't really need anyone. I think it helps to actually need someone when you go looking for love.

My independence and self sufficiency have hurt me in the love games. The guys who feel I need them are few and far between, and usually wrong anyway. I've been trying to soften my heart, learn tolerance and acceptance, been trying to open myself up to dependence. It isn't easy.

I have to let myself fall in love. I have a big heart but falling in love doesn't come natural to me. I've learned too many times that some people can't be trusted so its harder for me to let go of my grip on my heart and let myself drift.

Why do they call it falling anyway?

Its not like that for me. When I start slipping on the grass on my way up that cliff where I just know my true love waits, I get nervous and stressed. I feel the fatigue of all the years of climbing up that same path and running back down it to safety.

The few times I've stood at the edge of that cliff I see that wonderful ocean of possibility just waiting for me to dive in it. Beautiful waves of hope, the crisp clean scent of contentment, and endless miles to the horizon of happily ever after. Unfortunately, I also see the sharp ragged edges of the rocks where my previous relationships landed, the boulders of blocked memories and reefs full of crushed dreams. To get to that ocean I have to get past those.

I'm too cautious to fall. If I want to be in that ocean, I'm going to have to take a dive.



I can feel the winds of promise on my back as I stand there...pushing at me... My body is still scraped and bloody from wounds that never quite healed from the jumps I attempted before. Sometimes there is one beside me and I know that if he just held out his hand and took the jump with me that I would dive right into it.

I don't think I can do it by myself. I can't swim.

I need a hero. Someone with nerves of steel.

I seem pretty good at climbing up to the top of the precipice though. I can stare right into the fathomless depths.....

There is a strange beauty between the hope and despair. I want to linger here. Contemplate.

My heart pounds.

I feel dizzy.

I don't want to be alone.

Y'know that feeling when you knock on the door and no one is home? You thought they would be. Why wouldn't they be just hanging around waiting for you to call? But that life went on without you for good or ill.



That's kind of how I feel right now. I've been planning this move for months. The place I was going to move into fell apart though. If I wanted to move into a nice place I should have done it 3 years ago. Inspection proved my error and I can't move there now. So now I have to find a new one. No biggie, but I had my heart set on that one. It was like an old friend. I knew I could have it anytime I wanted, that it was just there...waiting on me. The apartments all around it contain real friends of mine. In this one though, interlopers came and tore it apart. Like a deserted friend who turns to drugs or drink in loneliness. Somewhere in there is the place I loved but it is surrounded in a mess that I want no part of.



I suppose I shouldn't give humanity to inanimate objects. I was just really hopeful about living there. Now I sit here with half of my stuff packed up. I don't have to leave but I want to. I am going through all the motions of preparation. Packing. Planning. Spreading the word. I haven't made appointments to see other places yet though. Next week is soon enough.



Maybe I've grown too comfortable in the ghetto. I don't know. Its not a good place to raise my son, but in some ways I think it would make a better man out of him. Right now I am thinking it through.



Part of the problem is this house. It is run down. It needs new carpet, serious repairs, painting and insulation. If I had a man around I'd probably stay. The rent is cheap and the neighbors are getting somewhat better. There are thugs about but they are everywhere downtown....not much I can do about that. The *kid* and I both like living near down town. I have an extra bedroom.... I could consider a room mate. I won't though. I'm not sure it would be a good idea for my youngest child. I don't want too many people influencing him. I'm particular about who I let really talk with him, it could contradict the morals and beliefs I am teaching him. I take my job as a parent seriously. A roommate would also interfere with my bigger dreams. I don't want to be encumbered by unnecessary responsibility if I ever find the man I can build a life with.

So its time to look again. I have no energy for it. Like a spoiled little kid I want what I want. The cosmos really seems to think I need change though.

I feel like stomping my feet.

Moving Process

I'm in the process of moving. Not far.

Going through everything I own. It kind of makes me reflective.

Long story short. A little over 3 years ago I quit a long angry marriage. I couldn't take it anymore. A little over 2 years ago I quit an even longer job working in criminal law. I couldn't take it anymore. Then I took off 8 months of living responsibly and went through my savings. I couldn't afford it anymore. About a year and a half ago I began picking up the debris of my life.

I had pretty good reasons for the things I did. At the time, those actions were my best choices. My marriage was Hell and my then preteen (and autistic) son was constantly being threatened with violence. My job with the lawyers was overwork and underpay, not to mention the stress level with all the changes going on in the lives of my youngest son and myself. We needed the time I took off and I needed to change jobs. I just couldn't deal with the guilt involved when you help people who hurt other people.

Living with relatives at first, then moving back to the ghetto (where I was mostly raised) has reminded me that I don't want that kind of life. When my oldest two were very young, I worked hard to get out of this area and to eventually make sure my kids would never have to deal with that kind of abject poverty again. For the most part I was successful. I'm successful again. I'm moving out of the ghetto. Not quite to Park Avenue but close.

It was good for my youngest son to get a taste of this life I think. He was born to me when I was already 30 and on my way. He thought money grew on trees and lived a charmed life really. I spoiled him because we both almost died the day he was born and I was grateful to have him. Besides he really is a sweet kid and its hard to deny him anything. So the forced denial gave him some character and a reason to be the best he can be so he doesn't have to come back again. Meeting people from different walks of life other than just the upper middle class life we were living before has taught him the value of humanity and to look for cause when people behave badly. He's learned to forgive human foibles. My older kids learned that by 5 and 8 years old.

I did take a different sort of job, not as prestigious as my prior job. People don't look at me at awe when I name the building I work for like they did when I named the lawyers I worked for. I am expendable here. The lawyers still call me for help, I gave up the job not two men who have always treated me with the love of indulgent older brothers and the respect of trusted colleagues. The pay and benefits at this job are better though. The responsibility is about equal, but I have people who share it. I still have to deal with people I am not proud to associate with on occasion. Those snobby born-with-a-silver-spoon types who have no clue that they actually contribute to the making of the murderers, rapist and thieves I hated working for. Mostly its business class people, like me. The Heart of America. I have varied work responsibilities and enjoy what I do. I still bring it home once in a while but I don't wake up in the middle of the night from it.

I'll miss the rawness of this area, its kind of addictive when it isn't dangerous. There are many who live here only because of a lack of opportunity and money. I made friends early on who helped to pull me up to where they were. I didn't earn every break I had. I have been blessed. Most of the neighbors I am leaving are salt of the Earth. They make do with what they have and they work harder in an hour than I do all day. I don't belong here though. I still forget to lock my door sometimes. I'm not as tough as I once was. My child will never be. I've become particular about my home and surroundings.

I'm throwing a lot out and giving stuff away. I've saved up some money to buy new (used) furniture with. I'm getting rid of all the stuff I *made do* with. I feel like a snob in a way because I hate living this way and can't wait to get out of it. I can't wait to have nice things again. Maybe not as nice as they were when I lived in Stepford... but nicer than what I have now.

I'm moving up... moving out... In the right direction again.

I'm not going to forget the miles I had to walk to get here though.

A simpler time

I go on and on about my complexities. It's not bragging, its whining.



I would have been better born in a much earlier time. I have morals. I hate all the pressure on women today. I hate what we are turning men into. I hate that kids are running the world. I, believe it or not, get sick of technology. I'm scared to leave my door unlocked.



I'm always wired. I have a cell phone I need to keep on my person at all times. Its not just for my children. Its for everyone. Even my privacy is haunted with the specter of being needed immediately. Employers today may not say so, but in truth, we are *on call* 24-7.



Family and friends used to drop in on each other for coffee. Now we just speak through headsets at each other and make empty promises to *get together soon*. My best friend and I were doing that yesterday. We live about 5 miles apart and we haven't seen each other for a year! (I do intend to remedy that). When we were kids and teens we couldn't see each other enough. Our phone calls were *I'll be over in 10 minutes*. I need to take ten minutes to hassle her in person one day soon.



I've been working hard on simplifying my life. I've almost quit driving. I live downtown where I work, so that wasn't too bad. I've lowered my housekeeping standards so I can spend that time talking with my neighbors. I have quit working at a high stress job major time job for a different position that allows me a little less responsibility and time flexibility.



I've ditched a lot of possessions. I've learned to love paper plates and sandwiches over 3 course meals.



Life is too short. I know this because I know why I feel this way. My cousin and one of my best friends taught me this. My cousin died at 46, the same age I am now. My other best friend died when she was 37. Neither one was expected to die. I think my cousin just exhausted herself. She took care of everyone. When she got sick it was one thing after another, brain aneurysms, cancers....everything. One day she and I were tipping back the *slippery nipples* talking about our hyper lives and laughing like we enjoyed it. A year later she was dead. That was Susie. Sharon D. was much the same. She was one of those working soccer moms. President of the PTA. Involved in Church and community more than anyone I've ever known. She did it all. I wanted to be like her. Practically idolized the woman except that in order to deal with it all she got into the uppers/downers habit. One morning she got up and fell down. Her young children found her in a heap next to the bed. The girl who taught me how to dance and helped me run-away from home wasn't here anymore.



I think for a while I was trying to live for them. Trying to be like them. Lately I think that if I don't simplify my life I am going to be exactly like them. Its not worth living a modern life if its killing us off.



Truth is I'm nothing like them. I somehow fell into a career-girl mold without really trying. I don't believe in equal rights. I believe men and women are different, not equal. To me its like apples and oranges...together we make a Hell of a fruit salad, but we are very different and offer very different virtues to life. We can't be equal because we cannot be compared to each other in a consistent fashion.

I want to live my Grandma's life. She's still kickin' by the way, witty and smart. Nearly 100. She lived naturally. That's the word. NATURAL. She fits into her world. I want to fit into mine. She loved one man until he died. Well actually she still loves him. She never considered it subservient to do things for him, she realized all he did for her. It didn't make her feel dependent to allow him to open a door. He was bigger, it was just common courtesy. She worked and kept the home fires burning. He worked more and kept the outer world (yards, cars and social events) in line. THEY WORKED. That's the ticket. Whatever works.

I don't want to have it all anymore. I just want what works.

Looking for Trouble

Yep I'm actually looking.

I have itchy feet and a restless spirit sometimes. It's like I've been good too long.

Responsibility is something I take seriously. Seriously. I have children. I have a job. I pay bills. I grew up.

Still, where some people have an inner child..... I have an inner juvenile delinquent.

Where have all the *GUYS* gone? (this is a link!)

Seriously. Click on that link.

Remember when real men didn't eat quiche or wear pink?

Maybe I am just one of those women who really appreciate a good whisker burn, I don't know. I just like cavemen. I think its funny when they burp. I laugh at fart jokes. I think Jim Belushi is the bomb!

When I run across a *real* guy I don't hold his testosterone against him. I'm much more likely to want to hold it against me. I think I get high off the stuff.

I don't want a wussy boy who wears make-up and admires my shoes. I want wolf whistles from some messy-headed manly man with a beer in one hand while he holds my door open with the other all the while looking me up and down and asking "What's for dinner baby" like I am the one woman who can take care of ALL his hungers. I don't want him to be prettier than me.

The guy I am going to fall for is the type who will come out in the pouring rain to get the groceries because he doesn't want me to get wet. He couldn't care less what it does to his doc martens. He probably won't even own a pair. He might even come out in the rain barefoot (maybe even making that gorgeous Tim Allen's barking noise). I'm sure his jeans will be worn at the knees and butt, his t-shirt will probably have some off color remark written across his chest. His smile will be warm and welcoming though. He'll be happy to see me. Glad that I am his even if I act like such a girl sometimes. He will wonder how the car is running but grow bored when I start rattling on too much about the usual BS gossip at work. He'll distract me with lecherous gropes and whisper sweet and naughty nothings against my ear. I'll have to remind him that kids are about because he won't even notice and if he does, he probably won't care.

He definitely will not be clean shaven at 5 in the evening wearing manpris, mandals and carrying a murse!

Girly men are for amazons. I want a caveman.....all man all the time.......

home is where the heart is

I don't want to leave my hometown. Its a small city (though it has a big-city crime rate) where I know a lot of people and have a lot of ties. The truth is I will probably never live anywhere else. I did try it once (for 6 long long years), didn't like it much at all. I moved to a small town 20 miles away (no crime rate to speak of). I was bored silly. Very lonely. I called it Stepford. I didn't quite fit in with the way too conventional robots there. I tried for a while, when that didn't work I sort of rubbed their noses in my outrageousness. They liked me less for that.

Some of what I love about the city is the cultural opportunities. We have several theatres, museums and festivals. I love the people usually. My job allows me to meet people from all over the world. No jobs like that in Stepford. I love the wildness and rawness too. So many different races and classes using the same sidewalks.

I could watch people interact for days on end.

Its loud with sirens ringing and machines humming and the air is full of the smell of car exhaust and factories but there are also the songs of musicians playing on the street and the rich odors of ethnic cuisine, sometimes numerous different countries represented in a one block stretch.

We can only see the stars on a clear night but we can see the city lights in the worst of storms.

Its home. Its all I really know. I miss it when I am gone.

Middle Aged and Single

I don't feel my age. I don't act my age. But there's no getting around the fact that I am my age with all the *baggage* that goes with it.

Late 40's. How did that happen?

When I was young I figured that by this time in my life, when I was (::::shudder::::) old, I would be bouncing grandchildren on my knee, Paw and me would be planning to retire soon, someplace warm but not Florida, I never did want to be like everyone else. I, of course, would be writing novels for a living and Paw would be a certain rock star, now retired because Gawd knows I wouldn't like dealing with his groupies.

It hasn't worked out that way. I sit here divorced, no hope for a grandchild because my children are adamant about waiting until there lives are very stable. Paw (Bruce Springsteen) married some hot red head and me....I do (:::::shudder::::) math and various other administrative tasks for a living.

At least I never had to deal with the groupies.

Right now all I want is the simple life. A working couple that actually share lives. Its not to be had.

Young single men approach me all the time. Too young. They want an instructor I think. Those who can't teach....but me, I want to do so I send the children home to Mommy.

Men my age or older are usually divorced and because after 40 something years they can now handle a dollar or two, they chase after the PYT's who happily spend their money. Usually they are the daughters of the women who wouldn't give these same men the time of day when they were 20.

Its ironic.

The Empty Nest

My 15 year old son, Walter, is making holes in the nest I've built around him. I've brought three people into this world with the sole intent of letting them go. I've been trying to hang on to this one a while though. Its not working. Doing my job well means that in the end, my job is downsized and eventually dissolved.

I look at him and I long for the 8-year old boy who would look at me in sheer adoration instead of judgment. I miss the 4-year old who would literally jump into my arms and cover my face with kisses. What happened to the 12 year old who brought all his confusions and mysteries in life to me for explanation and coping skills? There is this man hanging out at my house now. He needs to shave.

"Because I'm the Mom" is not an acceptable response anymore. He asks deeper questions and questions my decisions and whether or not I am misusing my authority, even while he remains respectful of it. This young man is making me question myself and my motivations. I am not always pleased with my findings. I have been doing the *Mom* thing for so long that I do it by rote. He makes me think and moralize myself like a couple other people once did.

Walter reminds me of another young man who once lived here and idolized me. That young man moved away and runs his own life now. He doesn't really need me, only my love now. I had great feelings of pride and relief the first time I went through this. I had done my job, fulfilled my purpose. It was no longer my personal responsibility or financial responsibility to take care of him 24/7. He could do it on his own because I taught him well. Richard was always a good boy and now he is a good man.

Walter questions me much like his sister once did. I do love those questions even when I am annoyed by them. Profoundness of thought. Thinking outside the box. I taught her that. It was and is one of the most passionate relationships of my life. Mother/Daughter. So alike and so different. To see my own face, like a conscience, arguing everything I thought was true and winning as often as not was to say the least, unnerving. Cecelia came into the world and left my home in the most original ways possible. I felt pride and relief with her as well. She was so powerful and still so feminine. I taught her well. I also felt a certain loneliness. I began to talk to myself a lot then, but it was in her voice.

My two oldest kids were like night and day, in personality, in looks. Walter is some weird combination of the two of them. As long as I've had him around I could relive parts of life with them pretty easy. My nest felt a lot larger after the oldest two grew up but never as empty as it is beginning to feel these days.

I find that when I look for men to date that children or grandchildren are a big plus. I don't want motherhood to end. I want to keep my finger in the pie.

Its not that I don't appreciate and enjoy my newly found freedom. I do. I love not having to hire a babysitter every time I need to leave by myself. I love not having to worry every time I lam not the one in charge of them. Its nice not to have to do the constant reminding..."Did you remember to use the bathroom and wash your hands before we leave?" "For the 30th time today pick up those damned toys before I break my neck!" "Be good and Mama will bring you a surprise when she gets home". Those days are over. Now my only reminder is for Walter to make sure his phone is charged on the off chance that he might need me and the more likely scenario that he needs more money or food. "Remember what I taught you baby....make me proud" I never say that. I hope it every time he goes through the door as the time gets closer and closer to the time he will walk away and mean it. All those lessons have become very important. I can't babysit a near-man. He has to remember my voice in his head.

Lord I hope this one takes his time.

Strong Boys become Stronger Men

I'm not a fan of a soft man. That's right. I don't want to see the feminine side of him anymore than he would particularly like to see my masculine side. In fact the surest way to bring out that tough girl from the hood in me is to show me his inner wuss. The more emasculated he is...the more I am liable to emasculate him further. I have no respect for a man who isn't as tough as me. I have no attraction to one who isn't far tougher. I'm raising my boys so that some other like-minded woman will bless the day I was born.



I worked pretty hard on my boys as a single mom. I wanted to make sure they did not (and do not) become mama's boys. They don't take any BS from me. Not that they would ever be disrespectful, they love me. I can't push them around though, nor will they allow me to *baby* them. My oldest never put me above the woman in his life and my youngest never will either. Neither will their women ever eradicate me from their heart and concern. They are just men about it. I want a man at least as manly as the men I raised.



My boys don't cry when they feel pain. It would have to be excruciating. They bear their scars like badges of honor. So proud of their own toughness as well they should be. For examples, my oldest son smashed his hand up hitting a brick wall over a girl when he was only 15. He didn't cry about it....he felt that he was stupid acting (he was right) and was more ticked off at himself than anything else and my younger son cut a major artery in his wrist when he was only 8, he didn't cry either just went calmly to his sister knowing she would know what to do. They did shed a few tears when my father died, when 9-11 happened, and tears of joy when their sister survived Hurricane Katrina. They are not heartless. They just don't cry over every little injury nor over spilled milk. Even my daughter and I are like that. In our heartbreaks, my children and I may cry, but we don't do it in front of the one who broke our heart nor do we wallow in it. No cry babies here....the boys are tougher than my daughter and I, but not by much. We are strong. A passionate emotion may bring a passionate reaction...but we recover our control pretty quickly.



My boys show tenderness and gentleness. Its never a weakness though. They are sentimental and never forget holidays and birthdays. They are gentlemen like cowboys were, not like suits are. A little rough around the edges including a sharp point here and there, but always willing to help when needed. A woman can steal their heart but never their pride. They are born and raised alpha-males. They don't take orders but are usually the one who give the directives. Calm in an emergency. The boys are steadfast and loyal with their friends and family. Born responsible and other than the occasional bouts of laziness....they work as hard as they play. Both of them had paying jobs by the time they were 14. Their bosses LOVED them and praised the way I've raised them.



They play hard too. Skateboarding was the sport of choice for all of my kids, my oldest son (and daughter) were on the wrestling teams (my youngest really should do it too), my oldest has gone skydiving and they all are game for whatever sport or activity is going on in a crowd. They enjoy basketball, backyard football and volleyball. My baby has bowled a 280 (at age 11) and didn't think it was a big deal, even when he won against kids 5 and 6 years older than he in the tournament.



You would think all that testosterone would make them aggressive and violent wouldn't you. Truthfully, they have gotten into fights. They win usually. They also try to avoid it usually, with my oldest being more successful than my youngest. My youngest tends to restrain rather than harm, unless it is the unusual situation where the kid who is fighting with him is equal in size/strength. Neither of them like fighting though. Its stupid and a waste when people all should be more accepting. Unfortunately due to communication problems related to the autism, they've been targeted. My oldest is now a 27 year old man and those days are thankfully long behind him....my youngest has a few years to go yet as a Freshman in High School. I am so grateful that he has his older brother for an example of what a real man is.



Do I sound prideful of them? I am but no more than I am for my daughter, but that has been and will no doubt be another posting. Incidentally....she met her real man, a friend of her brothers, at age 12 and married him at 20. Now nearly 3 years into it, barely an argument....As strong as my daughter is, she appreciates a strong MANLY man to lean on. He makes her more of a woman because he is more man than most.



What I would give to be as lucky as my daughter! Every time I start a new relationship I'm hopeful....maybe this time.



Word to potentials.....Look at my sons....Look at my son-in-law.....If you know that you will never be as manly as them....Don't waste our time....

But if you are....Then make me feel like a woman baby! I've been waiting on you....

Long Distance Relationships

And ever has it been that love knows not

its own depth until the hour of separation.

~ Kahlil Gibran

Long distance relationships are difficult to say the least. Both parties have to work harder. There are a lot of natural obstacles to overcome. Time and distance are just the most obvious, and really the easiest to overcome.

This is the sad bed of chosen chastity

because you are miles & mountains away.
~ Erica Jong

To make a long distance relationship go long term the parties must absolutely trust each other. It is hard enough to fight the specter of jealousy when one can actually check up on the other party. In a long distance relationship a person really needs to provide the reassurance and the contact necessary to assuage these feelings in the one he or she loves. You must keep your behavior above reproach. Lover's jealousy games are not acceptable when you can not be together for whatever reasons. In fact, they are cruel.

The heart may think it knows better:

the senses know that absence blots people out.
~ Elizabeth Bowen

Its harder to communicate over the phone and (horrors) through text messages and e-mails than in person. Things are easily misconstrued (not to mention annoyingly shortened and misspelled). Not only must write what you mean and mean what you write, you must screen all communications for those little double-entendres that can make something insulting out of an affectionate ribbing.

Assumptions are the termites of relationships.

~Henry Winkler

I try to avoid these types of relationships but have ended up in them time and again simply because my needs are so specific that I have to search far and wide to find not only a man I can put up with, but one who can put up with me.

Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones,

as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire.”

~ Francois de la Rouchefoucauld

Unfortunately it still tends to be dead-ended. Most men I am interested in are in their own professional careers and/or wrapped up in family ties. So am I. No one ever really wants to move out of their life into mine, and I don't want to move out of my life either.

[voice over] How’s your sunset?

Kate: It’s perfect.

Alex: I only wish you were here

to share it with me.

~ Keanu Reeves/Sandra Bullock, The Lake House

Sometimes I feel like I am in between the proverbial rock and hard place.

I looked in all the places you aren’t.

I just can’t find the places you are.

I only know that you are where I am not.

~ Winnie the Pooh

Bummer

Longing

Love is scary. Truth is even worse. It takes a lot of courage to keep trying.

I have a lot to offer a man. I read these personal ads (on the internet we call them *profiles*) and these men are all about wanting me....except I am not busty, I smoke and I have *baggage* (read a child that lives with me). Oh and while they claim to want passion, they certainly don't want any *drama*. The rest of their requirements...I can easily fill and then some.

Attractive X
Decent Body X
Sexy X
Honest X
Fun X
Kind X
Makes Own Money X
Not a "Gold Digger" X
Intelligent X
Sense of Humor X
Passionate X (problem here is, that its attached to *DRAMA*)
Likes Sports X
and Motorcycles X
Playful X
Decent X
Faithful X
Owns Dresses/Skirts X
Has Own Friends X
Not Clingy X
Still Affectionate X
Romantic X
Good Mix of Dependency/Independency X
Can Cook Well X
Crafty and Artistic X
Cleans (well passably) X
Loves Animals X

ETC. ETC. Really I am pretty spiffy. I want to make my man feel like a freaking KING. I want to spoil him completely rotten for all other women but me. I want to wear his body out, inspire his actions and stimulate his mind. I want him to be pleased with me and proud of me.

What more could a man want right?



Yep..... Here I am damn near close to perfect except, I'm not:

Good at ego stroking;
Willing to sleep with every guy I meet (not even most of them!);
Pretending to be stupid (see: ego stroking);
Willing to financially support a deadbeat;
Going to lie to make him feel better when he deserves to feel worse;
Putting up with ANY abuse against my children, his children or me;
Some Guy's Maid, Gopher, Prostitute/Mistress, Scratching Post, Valet, Punching Bag;
Changing who I am to suit the way he thinks I should be;
Quitting smoking unless I (as in me and me alone) want to and choose to;
Staying with anyone who uses illegal drugs or is drug and/or alcohol addicted;
Kissing Ass to get along;
Changing my diet;
Ignoring my children, no matter how old they are;
Going to lie about my life and/or the people in it;
Accepting less than total commitment from the one who gets it from me;
Willing to sit in the shadows of his life;
Willing to sit at home by the phone and wait wait wait;
Blind;
Deaf;
Stupid;
Sharing him with anyone else romantically or sexually;
Settling for less than I deserve, less than I give out
Asking for more than I am willing to give back or put up with.

Tell the truth....

I'm going to be alone forever aren't I?

C'est la vie!

the big X (repost)

I figure my life is almost but not quite half over. Which means I still have just as much time left as I've wasted. I truly do expect to live close to 100. The women in our family seem to live a long time, with the exception of my beloved cousin and her mother (whom I got my middle name from). They were exposed to asbestos in the family home though and got cancer from it.

The men die early though. Its not that we actually kill them....we just wear them out I think. They last approximately 60 years and then actually have the heart attacks they say we've been giving them for years.

The grandmother I was named after, my natural father's mother, was a royal bitch. She didn't have a kind word for me until about a week before she died at just under 100 years old. She was a brilliant woman though, evil but brilliant. My daughter hates clowns with a passion, so Grandma gave her one for every birthday or holiday. Lovely woman. She did like my boys. Boys are better somehow. She was mean to her daughters too.

I never met my poor grandfather, Clyde. He died before I was an adult and developed a relationship with my father. I've only heard wonderful things about him though.

My father died a few years after my grandmother. I loved him dearly. He was everything I hoped he would be when I finally was able to have a relationship with him in my 20's. I miss him like I do my grandfather and my best friend who are also gone from this world. He wasn't that old (grandma had him late in life, she was nearly 50!), cancer got him.

My mother's mother is now in her mid 90's. She has smoked since she was 10 or 11. She started breaking all the rules long before that. She is a wonderful crotchety old woman who still has her wits about her, even if her legs are starting to give her trouble now. She still has living sisters, one is older.

There are tons of stories of crazy and daring women in my family and they all seem to have this long-life genetic thing.

My whole point is I am one of the spicy women found in both sides of my family that will probably live as close to forever as humanly possible. Only the good die young you know.

Unless of course, someone shoots our ass. I'm not quite bullet-proof. Still I think I fall into that history of powerful woman in our family. I don't have an x gene I have an X gene. It's my heritage and my legacy to my own daughter.

I figure I still have time to do some of the things I wish I had already done. I'm going to find the romantic and passionate love relationship that I so want and so need. I'm going to make the second half of my life better than the first half.

One day I'm going to make a list. Like that movie ....the bucket list...








John Mayer Lyrics

Strong Enough? (repost)

Most of the guys I talk with will never get past the talk stage with me. They all hope they will. Most of them believe they will be able to sweep past my defenses with their charm, arrogance or wit. I do so love the daring-do types. I’m not stupid though.

I want to see inside their heads before my body gets too involved. My body isn’t where my brains are. I want to make sure that they are consistent in what they say. I want to make sure that I can agree with the basic beliefs and tenets they hold. I want to make sure they are *strong enough* to be my man. I'm just not that easy to love.....




I wish I were less complicated....I’ve been blogging for years... I thought blasting things out to the world would somehow make me better for a time....not sure whether it did or didn't. I'd like to think that catharsis is good though. I’ve deleted more than I have left now.

I'm too passionate. I know that. What I don't know is how to fix it. I love too much....need love too much. I'm demanding in a lot of ways....but I think I give it back. I want to. I try to.

My history is so convoluted. I can't change that. Some things taint you in unexpected ways. You think you are ok and then you realize that nooooooo normal is not like you.

You wake up and aren't sure where the dreams and nightmares actually end.

You confuse pleasure with pain and you confuse lust with love.

Sometimes you can't tell the truth from lies.

You went to sleep thinking that all was right in the World and you wake up wondering if today is the day the World will end.

You question God. You second guess *the plan*. You wonder what the point is in being good....but you can't bring yourself to risk letting go of your Grandpa’s wisdom....no one else ever loved you that much.....

You always wonder....question....ask *What if*.

Sleep eludes you.

And sometimes you wake up screaming.

I need to find someone who is similarly tainted I think....someone who is like me....or maybe what I need is to find someone who hasn't been damaged at all....

I hide myself and then I show all of myself at once...just before I put on a mask.

Sometimes I'm really ugly. Not easy to love.....but I need it so much.....

How am I ever going to find a man who can put up with me?

Faces of Hope (repost)

HOPE has two faces. Someone once said something to the effect that without Hope there is no Despair. It’s a profound thought. I say that without Hope there is no Joy. I try to stay on HOPE’s good side.

Do you remember the story of Pandora? When she opened that box, she let out all the evils except one: HOPE. The Greeks considered HOPE to be as dangerous as all of the world's other evils. Still, while HOPE was still in the box and all the other troubles were visited upon the world, humanity was desolate and desperate....Imagine the relief when Pandora finally returned to that box and let HOPE out to join the rest! Even though HOPE wasn’t strong enough to get out of the box right away, in the end it proved stronger than all the other ills that had been unleashed upon the world! Only Hope could give mankind the strength to face the rest of the World’s evils and to fight it’s way from the prisons of desolation and despair. So why did Zues put Hope in the box in the first place? In *All Too Human*, Friedrich Nietzsche proposes that Zeus did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he gives man hope.
I can relate but I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. I am a Christian at the core. Maybe not a right-winged Bible thumper, but I am a Christian. I believe in God. I believe in Jesus. Maybe I don’t believe it the way it is so often preached, but I do believe the Bible is Truth...maybe not exact truth as humans see it, but it is divine truth. The inspired writings of Paul contains words I live by. In fact it is my favorite Book and Chapter of the Bible. In the 13th Chapter of his 1st letter to the Corinthians Paul writes:
(11) When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child, when I became a man, I did away with childish things. (12) For now we see in a mirror dimly but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known, (13) but now faith, hope, love, abide these three; and the greatest of these is love.

There are 3 abiding spirits that God has given us to accomplish our purposes in this world and to have the strength to deal with life in this world. I’ve worked on Faith and I will continue to do so.... I am always working on Love, all types of love...but Hope, that I have taken for granted and cursed whenever it left me. I want to be friends with it now. I never realized its strength or power until recently when I’d all but given up and had it returned to me without deserving it or even asking for it back. That is Grace in action....the free spirit..
Hopefully, I will come out of this a better person.
Quote for today:
Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts. So, when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will.

--Birdee Pruitt (Sandra Bullock) Hope Floats

The Magical Power of EST (repost)

I have a very jealous and competitive nature. Mostly it is kept in check by the fact that I am also incredibly nice and I want everyone to love me. Also, despite my numerous falls from Grace, I am still scared to bring the Wrath of GOD down on my head (sorry....I couldn't help myself....I used to go to a very *hellfire and brimstone* type of church). So usually I don't over do too much.

Not withstanding the above (sorry again....too much time in the presence of lawyers), I like being an EST. I have to be EST whenever I can. As a child I was that kid who finished the test the quickEST and practically tripped over her shoes to deliver it to the teacher. I wanted to be the bEST. I wasn't the fastEST runner, but I was the slowEST, so it didn't bother me too much because I was still distinctive....still EST. I've always loved it when my actions or words or even better my whole self was described with one of those magical EST words.... bEST, of course was my favorite. There were also brightEST, sweetEST, sexiEST, craziEST, thinEST, blEST, prettiEST, etc. etc.....lots of words end with those magical letters that thrill me to no end. I've always been by nature, extreme. I've also been shamed and shamefully thrilled by other EST words....meanEST, raunchiEST, cruelEST, nastiEST, you know the words I'm talking about...depending on how they are used and the actual intent....

In my life I've done some wild and/or stupid things. I've numerous scars to prove it. I had the bad girl blog to document some of it (mostly deleted now). I've done cruel things too, that I still try to atone for.

I was the girl who went off road bahaing on the top of the jeep. I was the girl who would smoke a joint in front of a teacher. I was the woman who would stand up to the crack head across the street (without enough sense to worry about getting shot). I go out with strangers.

I also struggle with the super-person syndrom. I try to be everything to everyone. I have a hard time saying *No*, even when it means going on a couple of hours of sleep a night for weeks at a time. I never refuse when I am called into work no matter what else I need to do....I just do it later and forego my body's natural need for rest. I am a heart attack waiting to happen sometimes.

I fight addiction all the time. In school I experimented with drugs. As a young woman, I danced dangerously close to anorexia for a time. I came close to taking up drinking once, but I took antidepressants instead. (EST types are prone to depression because someone else can always EST beyond you....trust me...its not easy being EST). I've been addicted to people too. Smothering was the word that was used. Right now its the cigarrettes.

The problem with being an EST type of person is that you can never willingly walk away from a challenge, you never run from a fight, you never turn down a dare, there is no risk you won't take if it keeps you on top of the EST thing. You feel this intense need to always show others that you have NO LIMIT. Truth is rewritten to face the challenge with you. If you are hurt in the process its the price you have already chosen to pay. Its NOT the bEST way to live and I am constantly working on this little vice.

The good thing about being an EST type of person is that you continually strive to outdo yourself (ok and everyone else too, friends and family are no exception). You are always looking for ways to be the bEST. That is why I have succeded in business despite the lack of a college degree. It is how I managed to raise, not one but two, special needs sons (severe Asperger's autism) from recommendations of institutionalization to having one who is now, for all intents and purposes, *normal*, self sufficient and self supporting, and another who will be at that point soon. So sometimes its a virtue. I don't want to lose that drive. It's what has made me the bEST when I dealt with the worst obstacles in my life.

I am so addicted to this kind of EST behavior that finding a balance is difficult. I get a thrill from being an EST even when its bad. NOT GOOD. I usually don't do an actual damage, other than to my self esteem. I've found that people are more likely than not, going to enjoy most of my EST behavior and I end up making irresponsible and stupid mistakes for no other reason than I like the attention. Its me who has to live with them and take the steps to correct what I screw up. I'm the one who made the first impressions with the mask on. I'm the one who has blown a few perfectly good opportunities to advance my position in business by failing to show off my better skills. I may not cause irrepairable damage....but I have the choice of behaving better. Just because I will have new opportunities and meetings is no excuse to waste the ones I've been given.

ATTENTION. That is what being an EST type is really all about. Obviously I enjoy attention. I steal it every chance I get. Maybe its the middle child syndrom. My old shrink said that she thought I did everything in extreme because I was still trying to prove myself worthy of my miracle birth (I was too premature and various other complications), or because I felt guilty because good things seemed to come to me too easy when compared with the *luck* of the rest of my family, as if I was trying to put myself back in my place. Frankly, I think I'm just a know-it-all show off most of the time....but its always nice to have an excuse. Does anyone feel sorry for me for being so mixed up in the head?....ROFLMAO. I don't!!!!! Still I use these excuses all the time. Why? Because they usually work and everyone forgives my outrageous behavior.

I'm not really that bad. Just bad enough to embarass myself once in a while, still I want to be better. I want to be the bEST person I can be....even if that means giving up some of those other little ESTs and managing myself a bit better.

I am a passionate woman.....not much choice there. I don't have to be stupid though.

Christmas Revisted (repost)

I didn't get what I wished for this past year.... I must have been naughtier than I thought (funny I don't remember having THAT much fun!). Maybe it was just lost in the e-mail.....Maybe I need to send it again now so he can get a jump on it for next year!

Dear Santa,

I have been a good....well mostly good....Ok ok....I tried really kind of hard to be good this year.

At least I am honest.

I'll try to do even better next year and I won't play any ..... wellllll any SERIOUS pranks on strangers if you will just grant me this one simple little...ok well ummm rather large and complicated wish this year.

(See I AM being honest).

I know I've been kind of greedy these past few years. I wanted my kids to be happy and healthy and the same for myself. I wanted a job that was fun. I wanted enough money to live on. You've been really good to me! I am still waiting patiently on that clock that will turn back time and make me 25 again....but I wasn't very nice the year I made that wish, so I understand why its so late in coming.

Anyway, I'm really very thankful for all my wonderful blessings and gifts in this life already but one thing is truly missing and it is a terrible thing to miss.

I need a container for all the love and passion I have left over. See the problem with love is the more you get, the more you give, the more you give, the more you get. It really is a vicious circle!

Now I have all this love laying around all over the place. It's making quite the mess around my heart. It's creeping into my brain and creating passionate desires that have me tripping and falling all over myself.

I need somewhere to put it all. Preferably in the size range of 5'8" to 6'4" tall---I do so prefer sturdy containers. I like things to be substantial as you know....besides I have a lot of love and passion to store.

I would like an unusual container though, I know you can do this. Your elves have a reputation for making the impossible possible.

What I really dream of in a receptacle is openness and the ability to recycle the love and passion I place in it and feed it back to me. This would be so much more economical than just letting it sit inside me like a landfill.

I'm not particular about the brand name. It could be a George or David or even a Jack would be fine. So long as the name has a decent reputation, I would be pleased to have it around me.

Please make it a dominating presence in my home and my life. I prefer sturdy containers that have a soft inner lining. It's ok if its unusual looking. I don't care whether its top is covered or left bare.

It doesn't even have to be new and it can have smaller versions attached to it. I don't mind a few cracks and scratches. Sometimes that adds an ethereal beauty to it.

Yes you know exactly what I want Santa.

I knew you would.

Santa,

Please bring Prince (maybe not quite) Charming to me....

I promise I'll bake cookies.

Chocolate Chip even!

I'll be good too.....verrrrrry verrrrry good.... (no I am not winking)

Thank you in advance.....

Your friend,

Tressa

Hope is a dangerous occupation (repost)

HOPE is a dangerous occupation. Sometimes you have to pay a high price for the resolution to HOPE. There is no way to calculate what the cost will be. Whatever you spend, the value of HOPE will exceed the cost. HOPE is a bargain at any price.

HOPE works with Faith when you can not bear the pressure on you, the two of them will hold you up and give you strength until you can stand alone again. Faith is your surprise bonus gift when you concentrate on HOPE.

I live with HOPE every day. Even when Despair and Fear try to seduce me with their blame games, why me’s and what if’s. Even when the future is a shadow instead of a light.

I know that whatever happens in the numerous milestones I am crossing right now, that it is going to be for the best. I've left it in God's hands. Good Hands. Better than mine, at least I'm hoping.

Sometimes it feels kind of like when I had the surgery on my hands. My thumbs were completely useless before it happened. I was in constant severe pain. Everything I tried to do was an exercise in faith because I was as likely to drop something as to keep holding on. I knew what I needed but I was afraid to do it. I did it anyway. I had HOPE for a miracle, even though one wasn't promised.

FEAR (another four letter word) is the truest opposite of HOPE. Fear takes away joy. HOPE brings it. Fear prevents us from planning. HOPE demands it. Fear smothers us and holds us down. HOPE sets us free.

After I had the surgery my thumbs were completely useless. I was in constant severe pain. Everyting I tried to do was an exercise in faith because I was as likely to drop something as to keep holding on.

Not much difference at first.

I wondered why I had the stupid surgery for a couple of months. It wasn't cheap. I had to put my life on hold for 12 weeks all told (and it probably should have been longer). Then slowly the pain eased. I was able to regain maybe 80-90% of the use of my thumbs again. The pain went away. I still drop things once in a while, but for the most part I can hang on. These hands of mine still work, sometimes differently, but they can get what I need done.

Yeah, I had therapy then, and I may need another type of therapy for my present *surgeries* eventually but at least I can hang on.

I'm not afraid of cutting into myself and repairing the damage anymore. A healed injury is better than a gaping wound. Scars fade and we relearn what we can not repeat.

Body and spirit are not that different.

Hope heals both.

A good friend is a good find (repost)

There is a man I work with, for his privacy I will just use his initial G. G. is a tall middle aged, well educated black man. I love to hear him talk, he sounds like James Earl Jones.

He has never been a romantic interest, Heaven forbid. I admire him though. He is a wonderful human being. Extremely intelligent. Good heart.

We hit it off immediately. We share shifts about 3 times a week and always find time to talk. We are both intellectuals and interested in a lot more than whatever celebrity will be staying in the hotel next. We discuss politics, religion, gender issues and current events. He fulfills a need in me to communicate with other adults that I am unable to fulfill now due to my family's lack of education, my older children growing up, and just being without a significant other.

In a way, he makes it easy for me to wait until I can have the right relationship without jumping into one out of lonliness. He gives me just enough brain food to keep me from starving.

In the time, I've known him, he has helped me become resolute about the type of man I want. G. has been married forever. Same woman. He's devoted to her. He calls her his girlfriend. He doesn't cheat. They are friends, he respects her. I wish I could meet her. I feel as if I know her. Sometimes I think in another age, or even now if I hadn't had so many events at such young ages, I could be her. I would have been happy to have that kind of life. She is too.

G and Mrs. G. have 2 children who are very successful in their own rights. I think maybe G did his job as a parent too well, they fend pretty well for themselves now and I think he likes looking after me a bit at work because of it. G and Mrs. G. are an example of a couple who have the kind of relationship I want.

Sometimes he gives me a ride home from work. He's like that, kind of protective over me in a fatherly fashion. He is probably the only person I talk to at work that I don't feel the need to censure myself with. We agree on most issues and respect each other when we don't.

I need those few minutes with my friend often. He knows what is going on in my life and his advice is always sound. I wish I had my father or grandfather to talk to, but I'm beginning to think that he is the next best thing. I can trust him because there is nothing that I can do for him. All he wants is to be my friend, and you know what? He is.

He can't solve my problems. There are no answers right now. He does reassure me. He calls me wise, and I believe he means it. Once he said I should have been born a hundred years ago (when he claims to have been), I would have fit in better. Of course I would have been unemployed then, roflmao....no computers.

God sends you angels when you need them.

Ok the real answer

Ok . I will come up with a real answer. I thought I had answered it a couple of ways, but according to my friends, I am not being specific enough.

I want to fall in love and I want the one I fall for to fall for me too. I won't even admit I love him until he admits it first. Why? Because I want him to be *the man*. I want him to be my *Adam*.

I am not a weak-minded woman and in fact, I realize that I am asking for trouble by wanting that. Its not an easy thing for me to want, but I believe the fact that I have either never met my *Adam* or failed to recognise him, is the reason why my relationships have not worked.

I believe God made me the way I am because somewhere in this world, hopefully not far from me there is a man who needs a woman like me. That's right I said needs. I need him and he needs me. Desperate need. Like food water and shelter. Need like he's missing a rib and I have the only one that fits. I have to tell you....it is an unusual rib to boot. It fits someone who is a cross between the Tin Man and Rhett Butler.

For future reference, the domination I speak of is not about being battered. I would never put up with physical abuse (notwithstanding consensual sexual play and even that has its limits). I don't want a man to hurt me. I don't want to hurt him either. I also don't need a man to boss me around, I certainly expect my man to respect me and every opinion I have. I also don't want to be stalked, harrassed, emotionally or verbally abused.

I want a best friend and a mentor too. In my trusting relationships, I find I am a bit more like Dorothy in the land of Oz than I care to admit. I am not sure of the rules of engagement. I share all I have. I want to play nice and I get my feelings hurt easily. I need to find a man who really wants this battered up old heart of mine. I'd love to dance a dance with the tin-man!



But, in every partnership there is always the one who has the final say, who leads the way and sets the tone. I want to be dominated that way. I want my man to be the head of our relationship and I will be the heart. I want our roles defined. I want to have the traditional biblical relationship. I want to be his rib...his help-mate. His missing part, the part that supports him.

Back to the subject at hand.

I want to be dominated, not because I need to be, but because I am supposed to be. God intended it that way for me. Otherwise I would not have such a strong desire for it. The Good Lord, in his wisdom, also made it very difficult to dominate me. He is going to need to be quite the man.

My alphabet is true...so is every other post I've written. I believe in truth so whoever chooses to be my man will out of necessity, need to appreciate and practice truth too. I need frankness and honesty like bread and water. I don't want a man who is afraid of hurting my girly little feelings. I want a man who can tell it like it is, hopefully I will like it but if I don't, then he needs to find a way to gain my acceptance or to put his foot down.

I appreciate character, kindness and leadership qualities. I seriously love a rakish sense of humor and sexual naughtiness. I demand loyalty and commitment. I will not abide being cheated on nor will I allow him to abuse me or my children (or any children he may have for that matter).

He has to be willing to overlook and forgive my past mistakes and be ready to start a new life with me, just as I am willing to overlook and forgive his past mistakes and begin a new life with him.

Basically I feel like Scarlett O'Hara sometimes and I'm looking for my Rhett Butler. (and I am taking both Gone with the Wind and Scarlett into consideration, I lived a milder version of her life, 20th Century style).


Yeah I'm kind of like her, I started out a bit of a femme fatale and now I'm sorry for the siren I was, I played with boys and broke too many hearts but now I want to get in the real game with a real man....and yeah Rhett Butler is my kind of man...I wouldn't care if he was dirt poor.

Why Rhett Butler? Well I know why most women loved him....and those are some of the reasons I like him.... He was a bit incorrigible, devilishly handsome, money meant nothing to him and OMG the passion!.... I'm hot for him for a couple of other reasons though...

Even though he loved Scarlett, he was never blind to her. He SAW her, flaws and virtues and not just her pretty face and not just her sexy body.... He always took what he want and demanded she give him everything she was, her practiced charms were never enough, she had to learn him too. He wouldn't play her stupid little games, he called her on it every time. He made her better than she was because he demanded of her all she could be and not just what she was. Even then, he still provided her with all she ever needed. Her mistake was in not letting him know how much she loved him.



If I ever meet my Rhett....I am going to seek to please him and never hold back my emotion or my words.

I like to think that if this series had ever been completed we would have found them dead sometime in their 90s wrapped up in each other's naked bodies in their bed. That's the way great love stories should always end.


So I've somewhat described who I want.... There are other things, I need him to like kids and to be patient with teens. I need him not to be an asshole. I need a lot of sex....and some of what I want is more than I can print in these pages, even though I think I am pretty open. Its not that I'm ashamed of the things I want and need.... I just don't want to have to explain to him later why I shared that information with so many people when some of them are male.

See I want him to be a bit jealous and possessive of me too.

I read all these personal ads declaring that this person or that person *doesn't want any DRAMA*....

Me I want it....I want all his drama and all his passion....

I want to stir him up to boiling!

The ABC's of Mr. Not Quite Right in the Head

Someone asked me today what I wanted in a man. Truth is I want it all. I'm a greedy little bitch sometimes.

I like to say I want to find a caveman and dress him up in a suit.

I want a really savage caveman too boot....and a fancy suit.

Basically I want him to be the *MAN*. I know....I know....that is tres sexist of me.

But lets just do my alphabet....

A is for Alpha Male.

(I want a man, not a boy, and I want THE man, not a man)

B is for Boyish.

(one should never lose the part of themself that plays)

C is for Crazy.

(about me and a little nuttiness makes everyone more fun)

D is for Dominant.

(I'm old fashioned, and also its a sexual quirk)

E is for Energetic (He's going to need it!).

(I may be older but I'm not dead yet)

F is for Friend.

(Can't love someone if you don't like someone first)

G is for Goofy.

(laughter is a wonderful thing)

H is for Human.

(you would be surprised how many people lose their humanity by my age)

I is for Incorrigible.

(I enjoy people who live life on their own terms)

J is for Jovial.

(I like likable people best)

K is for Kind.

(There is never a good excuse to be unkind)

L is for Large.

(I don't see how I could feel dominated by a smaller man...he just has to be taller than me...I don't want to look down on him)

M is for Masculine.

(I like men with all the usual good and bad qualities, if I wanted someone who with my own traits I would be a lesbian)

N is for Naughty.

(Yes!!! Shock me! Make me blush! Tease me about how you will please me! Make me admit I like it...)

O is for Optimistic.

(its better to be happy than not, its better to have hope than suffer despair)

P is for Possessive.

(I want to be HIS, I am not talking stalking or jealous rages, but if he doesn't mind when some other guy tries to move in on his territory he is not going to be man enough for me)

Q is for Questioning.

(I love curious people....male and female.)

R is for Rowdy.

(Movers and shakers well...they move and shake me! )

S is for Sexy.

(I'm not talking looks...I'm talking attitude. I'm not going to complain that's alllll you think about....unless you aren't doing enough acting on those thoughts... )

T is for Teasing.

(Know me well and let me know it....and let me know you too. )

U is for Unusual.

(Average is for Average, I want someone who thinks outside of the box and lives a real life, not the one everyone thinks he should.)

V is for Virile.

(Sex is part of love. I want it all, and lots of it.)

W is for Wild.

(I want your raw emotion, I don't want you to be civilized with me, I want to have access to all your passions. )

X is for X-rated.

(I may not share, but I'm willing to give YOU everything I've got. )

Y is for Yummy.

(I want to taste your kisses and your skin.)

Z is for Zainy.

(Lets tickle, lets crash a party and dance the night away....Lets go for a ride and make out in a corn field...Build me a snow couple! I want to play!)

Mr. Right doesn't exist

So I am looking for Mr. Notquiteright Inthehead. Oh how I dream of you...night and day....

I hunger for your sloppy kisses and look for your crooked grin.

I wait to have you step on my feet in the dance of life.

I am listening for your crackly voice on the phone.

Longing to stare into your glassy eyes.

All I know is that when I find you..........

You will be perfect to me.

Love has two unbreakable laws

1. You can not make someone love you.



2. You can not make someone stop.

About This Blog

I took my favorite entries from 2 blogs I wanted to close out and placed them below this entry. Every entry is as valid to me today as it was the day I originally wrote it.

I started this blog because I wanted to put my better writing separate from my frequent personal writing. Yes, I understand it is all kind of personal. Some of it is just more applicable to the general populace.

Perhaps I would be better off defining it as Storms Whisper is more about stuff that applies almost solely to my life, though I am sure there are bits of wisdom thrown about willy nilly in there, I'll repost those here when the mood hits, and this blog is more applicable to the lives of others or to people who want to know what my deepest beliefs really are (there are a few). I like to think that this blog is just a tiny bit less selfish and more mature than the other one is.

My least favorite cousin would recognise me from my other blog, In this one, only those who know me best know its me. Well unless they read my name.....

All posts after this one will be original to this blog or reposts from Storms Whispers better blogging.

What I Believe

The theme of this essay is, "I believe". I believe I am going to begin by having a beer, which I truly believe is a great aid to creativity. I believe I am going to call it my muse.




I believe that I am nothing more or less than a crazy mixed up kid who grew up to be a crazy mixed up woman. I believe that I am just as good as I am evil and just as insane as I am sane.


I believe that a contradiction of terms is always a great start for a conversation.

I believe that life is not to be taken seriously, except for God, and I believe that God has a sense of humor. I believe that is why he made monkeys so silly acting and giraffes so silly looking.


I believe in the theories of creation, evolution and alien genetic experimentation. I believe the fact that we are all here is proof of all three.






I believe in practicing faith, keeping hope, and being spiritual. I believe that most religions started out being truthful. Now I believe that most religious books contain only grains of the truth with more being left out, rearranged and outright changed than what was originally left in. I believe in one God with many names who loves us all....unconditionally.


I believe the World could do with more unconditional love.


I believe that life begins with a passionate moment and that you should try to sustain that all of your life.

I believe that all things should be passionate. I believe in passionate eating. I believe you should chew and swirl your foods and drinks in your mouth. I believe in finger foods.

I believe in passionate tenets. You should stand up and be heard in your opinions just as often as you sit back and listen. I believe in speaking my mind, even when I am out of it.

I believe in passionate 2 hour lovemaking and passionate quickies. I believe in passionate perversions. I believe in passionate emotions and passionate actions.

I believe that you should be passionate about your family and passionate about your friends. I believe in unconditional love. I believe that love and discipline are not necessarily separate.

I believe in passion. I believe that passion is wasted when it only refers to sex. I believe that great sex is preferable to great wealth and I believe that a great life is preferable to a great vocation.

I believe in taking chances and paying your dues. I believe in attempting the impossible just to prove a point. I believe that scars are beautiful proof of surviving life.

I believe in finishing what I start.

I believe that if something doesn’t actually breathe, then it really isn’t worth much. I believe in the intrinsic value of life.

I believe in taking responsibility for my actions, good or bad.

I believe in "I’m sorry". I believe in forgiving. I believe that sometimes good people make bad mistakes and that bad people can make a good effort. I believe that people can change sometimes. I believe they can change back.

I believe in always playing to win, even against beginners. I believe in finishing a game even if you are losing. I believe that winners deserve a victory dance. I don’t believe that losers should be forced to thank a bunch of gloating winners for a good game. I believe the proper response to that is "I’m gonna get you next time Sucka". I believe in rematches. I believe in learning from your losses.

I believe that if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. I believe if that doesn’t work, maybe you should hire the job out. I believe that life is too short to waste much time doing something you don’t particularly like very much and/or aren’t very good at. I believe that is why we are not alone.

I believe that all children, even other peoples brats, are a gift to the world and that we should listen to their simple wisdom. I believe too many people pay too much attention to what their children are eating and not enough attention to what their children are thinking. I believe that children deserve certain rights, including safety and respect. I believe that there is no such thing as quality time, only time and you should give your children as much of that as you possibly can.



I believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Irish faeries, Leprechauns, and the Easter Bunny but not the Great Pumpkin (well maybe just a little). I believe in making your own Halloween costumes. I believe they should be scary.

I believe that making up stories is not the same as lying. I believe in pretending.

I believe in playing in the rain. I believe in squishing your toes in the mud. I believe that every child should at least eat one real worm. I believe that a child who always has a clean face and hands has terrible parents. I believe that children should be filthy by the end of every day. I believe a clean child is not having enough fun.

I believe that birthdays are the most important holidays of all.

I believe in thanking my Mother for all she went through to bring me out on my birthday.

I believe in love that lasts forever and in love that lasts a while. I believe in love at first sight, second sight, and I believe sometimes it grows out of long long friendships. I believe that there really is a very thin line between love and hate.

I believe in a woman’s right to choose, but I believe that the choice ought to be life.

I believe in always saying Hello and Goodbye. Even when it hurts.

I believe in keeping promises or not making them. I believe that a person is only as good as their word.

I believe that we put too much stock in maturity and not enough stock in immaturity. I believe we try too hard to be grown up and not hard enough to keep the wonderment of a child. I believe in 2nd, 3rd, and 4th childhoods. I believe in having even more if you can.

Now I believe I am going to have another beer. C’mere Muse!

Defining what a relationship means

A relationship means wanting to talk with and actually know someone, inside and out not just the pretty things. It’s wanting to make eye contact, not voice contact, its wanting to touch each other. It's needing to touch each other.


Its spending time together without dating and all the false trappings of your best clothes, fine restaurants and best behavior all the time.


When a person actually has a relationship with someone they want to share thoughts and hopes and dreams. Fantasies too. But even more they want to RELATE (like in the word relationship) with that person on a regular basis....dare I say day-to-day).


Its actually caring what each other thinks about. Its wanting to live the dream out. Its wanting to make a fantasy real. Its giving the best you have to someone who is giving their best to you. Its accepting the worst because the best makes it worth the effort.


A relationship means actually having sex...not just talking a good game.


A relationship means compromise, not convenience.


It means knowing each other’s friends and families well enough to laugh about them behind their backs and know that you will both get the joke. It means being a part of someone's life, not just hearing about it second hand.


It means that you both look out for each other for what you don't need.


It means that you both look to each other for what you do need.


It’s a little like friends with benefits but much better. You let yourself become INVOLVED in the other person’s life even if it means a little hassle in yours.


You trust each other and depend on each other.


It means actually laying the groundwork for a future together and making and obeying the charter rules you set out. Its planning for what you both want....not what one can fit in.

Its making room in your life for him/her, and inviting them to stay, not just for a while but forever.


Eventually it means living together (marriage...I don’t know...maybe I could be convinced if I had all of the above going on) and living your life for the benefit of the relationship and each other.


It means working together for better days ahead.


It means making a shared history, sharing troubles and sharing joys.

It means actually sharing lives.

It's a start....Relationship is a pretty big word to define.

Compatibility Issues

One of my biggest problems with compatibility has to do with my growing up poor and tough. Most people in that situation are not real big intellectuals so those who are born into families that value the things I've learned to value are a bit put off by the fact that I am so tough and dare I say *street smart*.


The men I’m attracted to and who are attracted to me, tend to be from the other side of town. Often they are quite surprised by the truth of me.


Its not like I get into bar fights or anything.... but there are some differences between me and the upper class ladies I used to socialize with and sometimes still must....


I won't listen to a hypocrite drone on and on for one thing.... I will call them on it every time...


I won't pretend to be someone I'm not anymore, even if it isn't socially acceptable . I guess I really just don't care what a lot of people think about me.


I like stating my views even if they are different. I can take a challenge and enjoy a debate.


At any rate I wonder if these basic facets of my personality are some of what dooms me to unhappy relationships and I wonder if a good relationship is worth pursuing if I have to change the very basis of who I am and what I want to stand for.


Anymore I'm thinking "nope....not worth it". I realize I don't have to be middle class to be happy. Truth be told, I wasn’t happy when I was better than middle class. Money can’t buy it.


Right now I feel pretty damned happy and I don't have anything really good but this magic box and my worthless car... I surround myself with people who love and accept me and walk away from those who don’t. I rent cheap. My yard is a mess because I gave up all my garden tools in the divorce. Yet I'm happy.


Home is where I want to be.



Life is funny isn't it. All those things I worked for I gave up. The life I strove so hard to exist in, I walked away from and the one I ran away from I ran right back to.


The only thing that is missing from my life is romantic love.

My problem is my lifestyle and ethical leanings are definitely *tough chick from the hood* but my work life and intellectual capacity are more in tune with *uppercrust and nosejobs*.

As always...I end up divided among two extremes.

Backwards on a Train

Sometimes I feel as if I am facing backwards on a train. It's that feeling you feel when you know you're getting to your destination but you can only actually see where you've been and the landmarks you are passing. The last (and only) time I tried to ride a train in that position I was pretty dizzy by the end of it.


That's what I seem to be doing a lot of lately. Judging my present by my past....I'm not sure whether that is a good or bad thing. I think it started out a couple of years ago when I started telling the truth about almost everything...good or bad.





Something happened inside of me the day I took my own last name back. I started trying to be the person I think I was supposed to be instead of the one I became.


I started living instead of just speaking truth. I quit being sorry that I wasn't the person everyone wanted me to be. I quit caring what a lot of people thought. I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing.


I know I've done some pretty risky things. I'm not as well off financially and I don't have the power I once had. I feel better though...inside and out. I look in the mirror and I don't see a stranger.


I don't feel like I am wearing a mask


Maybe its just the female version of a midlife crisis.



Whatever.....All I know is that despite a little queasiness from time to time, I am finally enjoying the ride.

I don't need a man

I don’t need a man.

I can raise my kids and I make enough money to live on.

I don’t get why I want one so bad.

Its really not sex either. I like it. I like it a lot, but I could live forever without having it with a man I didn’t care for.

Its not the companionship. I like my own company, I have my kids and the rest of our ever expanding family, and plenty of friends online and off.

I definitely do not need any more emotional crap from someone....I have enough of my own for 20 people.

It must be some kind of inborn survival instinct. All I know is I am miserable without love until I am miserable with it.

But the times between the misery....OMG....That is heaven to me

Raising Kids or Raising Hell?

I believe in giving kids a lot of freedom but it must be weighted at the same time with restriction. Absolute freedom will not make your children love you... It may however make your children unloveable to others. Use your own judgment... draw a line... It doesn't have to be my line... but know why you draw it, and don't let your child cross it.


I had limits.. I used the word "No" when necessary while still giving my children the freedom to use temporary color (like pink) on her hair...to allow a pierced ear (on my elder son) and to grow long hair.


Parents you can give your child freedom... but allowing anarchy to reign in your home is a big mistake. Remember the children you raise will one day most likely be responsible for decisions that not only affect you and their possible future families but the world in general. Please give them a lesson in restraint once in a while!




EVERYBODY ELSE


I fail my children everyday, just like Everybody Else's parents do. I buy them items they shouldn't have because Everybody Else's mother does. I let them go places Everybody Else's father lets Everybody go. They want to be like Everybody Else. In this society, if your child is not like Everybody Else, neither you nor your child will be accepted. Everybody is in charge here. No one is brave enough to take Everybody Else to task or to enforce the rules that would remove the little monster from power.


Everybody Else has unlimited access to cable T.V., and internet connections. Everybody Else has a CD player and is allowed to listen to the profane lyrics that pass for music today. Everybody Else has his own car and stays out as late as he wants. He chooses his own friends, his parents trust his judgment better than their own. Everybody's folks seem to believe that discipline unduly stifles his creativity. Frankly, Everybody is spoiled.


Everybody Else's parents let their children dress in ways that express their individuality, no skirt is too short, no shirt too revealing to be worn. Everybody Else's baby brother is wearing "colors" and his big sister wears dark gothic styles with a small silver chain running from her eyebrow piercing and other piercings all the way to her naval ring. Everybody favors pants loose enough to show his undershorts, he has a skull tattooed on his arm. Everybody's parents understand it is only a phase that the kids go through. Everybody's parents think I have a problem because "you can't judge a book by its cover". Wonder if the publishing houses know that?


At school dances all music is allowed because if it isn't, Everybody's mother complains of losing freedoms or of being forced to bear discrimination (why is having discriminating tastes such a "bad" thing?) or that such language is usual and normal and should, therefore, be allowed. Everybody Else does it so that makes it ok. What ever happened to "good taste" and "being classy"?


My mother used to say that she never met Everybody Else's mother but she was glad she didn't have to raise this kid because that child was headed toward unimaginable terrors, troubles and certain death. I never was able to do what Everybody Else could do, never had the things that Everybody Else had. The few times I tried to be like Everybody Else in misbehavior, my parents came down hard on me. Funny, the Everybody Elses that I used to quote have pretty much lived up to my mother's expectations.


We want to give our children the freedom we never had, but instead give them chaos. We want them to have free expression and adventure, but it somehow turns into foolhardiness. We want to give them the value of a worldly education....but we're finding out that knowledge is worthless without comprehension.

I plan to be a lot more like my own mother from now on and a lot less like Everybody Else's. I wish Everyone Else would do the same.

The Man I Measure Men By

Things my Grandpa Rogers taught me.

Since I mention my Grandpa quite often, I thought I’d tell you a bit about him...He was very tall, about 6' or just over....He had that native look about him...very muscular and still lanky.


Handsome as the devil in blue jeans.


He was a wonderful person who didn’t always obey the law. He was flashy and drove a pink Cadillac convertible with white fuzzy dice on the rear view mirror and tan leather interior. He gave all our friends candy money when he gave it to us...sometimes $3-5 a piece...that was a lot of money in the early 70's especially when you were swarmed by 10 or 15 kids at a time.


Once he kidnapped (actually kidnapped) my brother, 3 sisters and me because he felt we were eating too much chicken and not enough steak. He was an over the road truck driver for a freight company here until he died in 1973. Before that he hauled dynamite on the wrong side of the law. The things he taught me include:


It doesn't matter who else is there, at the end of the day, you still have to sleep with yourself. Make sure you like your own company.


Great rewards come only through great labors.


One can never have too much candy, it makes you sweet.


In a dark forest, when no one is around, a tree still makes a huge sound when it falls. Sin committed in secret is still sin.


You have exactly 3 choices when faced with fear or danger. A. You can freeze and let it overtake you. B. You can run and let it chase you. Or C. You can fight and stand a chance at beating it. (My Grandpa was a golden gloves boxer for a while.)


First: know your own Value. Last: Don’t accept less.


Every person who has succeeded has failed miserably and been completely humiliated at some point in his/her life. His favorite rags to riches story was Mays Dept. Store...I can’t remember all the details but I do know that people fail before they get it right.


Every action has an equal reaction. What goes around comes around.


People will generally believe exactly what you tell them to believe about yourself. It's a good idea to be generally honest, but don’t broadcast the bad stuff, let them like you first.


Always work as if you have to put your name on it. Your name is on it.


If you are kind to others and true to yourself, people will remember you long after you are gone.


Sometimes you have to break rules before people see why they should be broken.


Respect the ground you walk on.


It's better to choose than to be chosen.


Do your own thinking. God gave you your own mind....use it or lose it. Failure to do your own thinking is like saying to God...Yeah thanks for the gift...but I am just gonna use Joe Blow’s thoughts....its too much work to do it myself. Its like spitting in God’s face.


If we see that an action should be taken and we don't take it. We fail. There is no "other guy"...why wait for him?

Grandpa was the wisest man I ever knew.

Internet Friendships and Relationships

My life is full of people that I don’t have time to know. People used to make time to get to know each other. I wish it were still so.

I’ve made a lot of friends online, some I’ve actually developed *real-life* relationships with too. It seems easier to find people of similar interests. Certainly googling *bloggers* is a whole lot easier than shouting out to strangers on the street *Hey!!!! Ya wanna chat a bit?!?!*. Not to mention that could get me arrested.

As a single working mother, I meet most of the men I’ve dated, initially, through this medium. I am one of those who will not go into a bar alone, and after more than a dozen years of working as the secretary for criminal attorneys, I like to get some information about men before I actually let them know where they can meet me for lunch. It’s always nice to come home in one piece.
I know I could be wrong one day, but hopefully there will be enough information on my hard drive so that my family can hunt the bastard down and do what red-necks do when someone hurts their own.

But I’m digressing ......

The internet is a wonderful thing. It makes the World a small place. It makes us feel as if we truly know people we’ve never even met.

Telephones are great too. You can learn a lot about a person just by talking.

BUT.........

Nothing is the same as seeing whether a person smiles with their eyes when they smile with their mouth.

Your eyes can tell you when someone’s words don’t match their emotions.

You can see a person's confidence in the way they stand.

You can see a person's life on their hands and face.

You can't feel the *chemistry* until you are close enough to smell the pheromones.
You can't touch on the phone or through a keyboard.

You definitely cannot share a hug or a kiss.

I love technology....but I also love real life.

I love the freedom of movement in cyberspace.... But......

I need to walk on solid ground.

Male Cravings

I am wary of that which I crave.

I keep a check on my own dependence, even while I favor dominant and bossy men.

I am careful not to need a man too much, but I want to know I’m taken care of.

I pay close attention to the motives of really intelligent men but I can’t even stand to be around men I am smarter than.

I guard myself around powerful men but need to feel protected.

I think that I confuse men as much as myself.

I have a running joke....*I want a man who is more of a man than I am*.



See the thing is, as far as women go, I am pretty powerful in a lot of ways. It’s the way I was born, not a life choice.

I want to be one of those soft sweet women that stand by their man and I think I could be if I had a man I could stand by. For that, he has to have a lot to offer me, because I have a lot to offer him. He has to be an Alpha-male because I am definitely an Alpha-female.

I don’t care about materialism or money, but he needs to be intelligent and passionate and strong and domineering and even taller than me, for me to want to be with him. He also needs to be compassionate and kind and romantic and sweet for me to be able to love him. Can you see where my problems with relationships are?

I want too damn much from one person and I can’t seem to make myself settle for less.

See I want the fairy tale too...



I'm having some serious cravings. I'd like a rose....but leave the thorns on please.

The Truth About Passionate Women

Y'know guys always think they want a passionate woman. What they really want is a woman who can fake passion in the bedroom.





The truth is passion is a way of BEING. You either are or you aren't.

There is no control panel where switches wait ready to turn it on when we praise your lawn mowing skills, but turn it off when we bitch about your underwear laying beside the hamper on the bathroom floor.



There is no switch where we turn it off so we don't hear your ugly words when you are drunk and think we are fat and then turn it on again to become your fantasy lover when you're done looking at your porno flicks.



It doesn't work that way. ITS EITHER ALL ON OR ALL OFF BABY!!!!!!!!!













There is no happy medium. You can trust me on this.

The woman who is calm all day long does not become an animal in the bedroom. If she does she is FAKING it. It is very easy to fake feeling emotions you don't feel.

The woman who is an animal in the bedroom is an animal all day. It is not so easy to pretend to feel nothing when you feel things twice as deeply.

If you cut me I will bleed, If you hurt me I will cry, If you please me I will do anything you ask, willing and joyful. But you can never have it all ways.

The truth about passionate women:





YOU CAN"T HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO!!!!!!!

I guess that is why so many men cheat. They want one woman who is docile at home and an animal at their disposal so they can pick the mood they want.

I'm too valuable to put up with that. I'll just say NEXT (which is what I always do).

You can have the pretty wrapping or you can have the rare and freaking interesting gift inside after you open the package. You never really get to have both.




If you want to play with the box...go after docile women. If you never want to be bored again....then open the box and play with me.

My Views on Marriage

Some people say that some of my statements are inconsistent regarding relationships. Evidently, I have a habit of describing a relationship that sounds like marriage while discounting the very idea of marriage. This is because of my standard answer when I am asked by various suitors about whether I believe in marriage. That answer is *I suck at that*. Usually this query is made by men who are wanting me to replace the one who got away. It is usually asked early on, much too early, like before the 3rd date.

One should never ask a question that they really don’t want the answer to.

Its not really marriage I have a problem with, it’s my marriages. I love the whole idea of Happily Ever After. I just think its one of those exclusive membership things. I’m not included.....for whatever reason.

I have no doubt that I could love someone forever....if he loved me back. I thought marriage was forever when I did it. I thought we would plan our lives together and work out our problems as they came up. I thought that we’d have matching rocking chairs on our front porch when we were all old and decrepit.

I intend to have that life someday anyway. It’s what I wanted most in the whole world since I was just a little girl....not the wedding, the life.

Cynicism I developed over the years I worked for attorneys, and life experiences make me feel the way I do... There were times, especially in the beginning, that I thought I was actually helping people. I am ashamed.

I have been an intimate witness to at least a thousand divorces because of my former job.... Its not like I expected my marriages to be like any of them either, I thought I could change the odds in my favor because I seen so many of the pitfalls. I (of course with my super powers) would simply prevent those problems from occurring.

What I didn’t realize and should have realized, is that not one of those couples I helped break up thought these things could happen to them either.... and they never did anything to prevent their problems from happening, not that taking measures to prevent the problems works anyway. You can either trust someone or you can’t. If you are very lucky, you know which it is.

These couples had no actual plan to stay together because they just assumed that a vow was enough, as if a promise could keep itself....

There was no effort to keep the love alive because they never thought it would die, until it was already gone. No one works at something they think is magic. No one tries to improve on what they think is perfect. People get caught up in life and forget to catch up with people. Marriage gives them a false sense of security. They think its harder to walk away from.

Commitment isn’t magic, it is an occupation, a dedication to the betterment of the whole rather than the parts.

At least when people are just living together they realize the threat of loss. They work harder on the relationship because they know the other person can just end it that quick....So they remember that love is a verb and not a noun.

Marriage, in my overbearing and egotistical opinion, has two parts...a covenant and a contract.

If the covenant could be made part of the contract...then marriage would be different... People would KNOW exactly what was expected of them and consequences for failure. No one knows until the toothpaste is left open one to many times that 5000 was the limit and 5001 was just too much. No woman knows which girl is just sexy enough to steal her man away anymore than any man really knows which guy has a wallet fat enough to take his woman. No one knows when the violence is going to start or what is going to trigger it or whether or not it can be fixed.

Yeah, I know those were stereotypes but you would be surprised at how often those things actually do happen.

Most States have no contest rules for divorce now. All you really have to do is say *Changed my mind, I don’t love him/her after all*. Irreconcilable differences.

The truth is instead of working together and working it out, the people have generally grown bored and worked toward finding replacements. There was no love there in the first place. Real love is rare. Real love demands accountability and responsibility.

No one really wants to take on responsibility for their own behavior or misbehavior anymore.

*For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for better, for worse, until death we do part*

No one even realizes what those words actually mean anymore. I fed my kids on that lack of understanding. Seriously. I was paid to help couples break their contracts/covenants with each other.

Does anyone know the difference between a covenant and a contract?

A contract is a legal and binding agreement between two people. It has to do more with property and finances than anything else. It is easily rewritten or broken altogether with the help of lawyers.

A covenant is a promise between two people and GOD. It is unchangeable and unbreakable. It has to do with the spiritual and emotional aspects of an agreement. It is what it is.

I don't really know everything I did wrong in my relationships before, I really did try to make them work. I just failed.

As much as I would like to lay the whole of the blame on the men I was married to, in the end I was the one who picked them. I was fully ½ of the relationship and therefore ½ of the failure. Everything was not their fault. Reasons don’t even matter in the end. I have to face my own blame, right my own wrongs, and learn from it, if I ever want to have a real relationship that can stand the test of time.

What I want is to be with someone who is right for me, but even more, I want the contentment and satisfaction of knowing that I am right for him too.

Identity

Written July 17, 2006

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.



I was granted restoration of my maiden name today.

It shouldn't matter but it does.

I spent so much time trying to redefine myself only to find that I liked the original definition best of all.

Time felt like it went backwards.......

I am now who I last was at 18..... (If only I had the body and face to match it). No one is pinning me down and nothing holding me back. No one can silence me and nothing can stop me.



Its like the Judge erased all the bad stuff that happened in life...... all that victim garbage..... all that circumstances trash.... like chalk off the blackboard. He then wrote my true name over the shadow that remained.

I think he used big bold block letters.

Hypocritical Parenting

I’ve run into some problems with kids and young adults lately. It’s got me thinking...asking questions about why things are the way they are....

If we don't approve of society, then why do we allow it to raise our children?

Why is it that every time some kid flips out at school we rush to find someone to place the blame on? I know who is to blame. I looked in the mirror and there I found the one at fault. It is me. It is also you. We hide behind chaos and call it freedom. Freedom of religion, (freedom from religion), and freedom of speech. What we have here in the United States is chaos now. I have a hard time believing that this is what our God-respecting forefathers envisioned.

Freedom of religion and freedom of speech are supposed to protect the honest expression of ideals and to institute tolerance of differences. It was not intended to assist in the proliferation of hate groups and pornography.

In the 70's and early 80's, when most of today's parents grew up, one of the sayings of the day was "You are what you eat". It was true, at least in part. We are the essence of everything we put into our bodies spirits and minds. Substances enter our bodies from any of the 5 senses, not just taste, substance enters our consciousness from every manner. We are allowing our children to be poisoned. Most of the time we give them the poison ourselves. We've forgotten how to be parents.

I'm no better than you are. It isn't easy to tell your child no. We feel guilty because we aren't home much. Then we "fix" it by working even more hours to make more money, so we can buy our kids more gifts, gifts they don't need and probably shouldn't have, because we feel so guilty about not being home. Maybe we need to quit working overtime, and spend some time with our children.

We grew up during the great "pop psyche" era. We have been told so many times how terrible "bad feelings" are that we give-in to almost everything our children request to prevent them having any "bad feelings". We don't want to damage our children.

Our parents, I'm discovering, were not wrong. Guilt serves a purpose. Shame serves a purpose. Even anger serves a purpose. Those are the emotions that spur a person to do better. To not allow our children to feel them is equivalent to taking away their conscience. It's time we give our children the benefit of feeling bad. It might do us all some good.

When I was a child, my mother used to tell me that my behavior was a reflection of her. She was right. Right now we parents don't look so hot in the mirror I'm looking at.

A Relationship Contract

I wish that every relationship actually was a contractual covenant...with the why's and wherefores and henceforths all spelled out in painful half-latin legalese with fine print and signatures on every page....

I understand agreements and contracts. I love rules that can’t be broken.

I’d insist that there was stuff in it like "Must audibly say "I love you" twice everyday." "Must develop real relationships with each other’s children" "He will inflate the tires and she will do the dishes regularly" "Sexual relations to occur at least once per day and to include this that and the other thing, et.al...." We could spell out Kitchen rules and that grown children should grow up. Itemize our demands for child care duties and holiday entertaining. Divide the family obligations. Define boundaries. Set out Barbecue rules. Determine whether we buy Miracle Whip or Hellman's......

I’m sure you have the gist of it.

I used to believe in fairy tales....but I grew up.

I wish I were a child again. There were rules.

Soldiers

Veteran’s Day is not just a day off from work for some people. It's not a day to complain because banks and government offices are closed. It's not a day to bitch about a war you disagree with. It's not a day to bitch about the people who complain about the war you support. It is not about war. Veteran’s Day is about sacrifice. It is about heroes. It is about Freedom. Veteran’s Day is about loving others more than yourself.

This day is about men and women who leave their families behind to protect people they mostly don't know. It is about idealistic young men and women, barely past childhood, who believe that the greater good is more important than a single life. Veteran’s Day is about parents who have lost their children and children who have lost their parents in the effort to protect the freedom we enjoy.

Veteran’s Day is about being grateful to those who make the sacrifices that the rest of us can't or won't. To say thanks to those who fight for the innocent and defend our liberty. Veteran’s Day is about the Veterans.

"Here rests in honored glory, an American soldier known but to God." --inscription on the Tomb of the Unknowns at Arlington National Cemetery

THE THINGS THAT MAKE A SOLDIER GREAT
written by Edgar Guest

The things that make a soldier great and send him out to die,

To face the flaming cannon's mouth nor ever question why,

Are lilacs by a little porch, the row of tulips red,

The peonies and pansies, too, the old petunia bed,

The grass plot where his children play, the roses on the wall:

'Tis these that make a soldier great. He's fighting for them all.

'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings that make a soldier brave;

'Tis not allegiance to the flag that over him may wave;

For soldiers never fight so well on land or on the foam

As when behind the cause they see the little place called home.

Endanger but that humble street whereon his children run,

You make a soldier of the man who never bore a gun.

What is it through the battle smoke the valiant soldier sees?

The little garden far away, the budding apple trees,

The little patch of ground back there, the children at their play,

Perhaps a tiny mound behind the simple church of gray.

The golden thread of courage isn't linked to castle dome

But to the spot, where'er it be — the humblest spot called home.

And now the lilacs bud again and all is lovely there

And homesick soldiers far away know spring is in the air;

The tulips come to bloom again, the grass once more is green,

And every man can see the spot where all his joys have been.

He sees his children smile at him, he hears the bugle call,

And only death can stop him now — he's fighting for them all.

Dear Veterans,

Thank You.

Love,

U.S.

About the screen name St0rmWhispers

When I made my screen name, St0rmWhispers, I wanted to reflect my Native American heritage and honor my Grandpa Rogers, who was always brutally honest and unspeakably kind towards me. He loved me, and all of his children and grandchildren, as much for our faults as for our virtues. I always knew he thought I was "different" in a *weird* kind of way...and it was OK that he thought that because he loved me for it and not despite it. My oddities and quirks made me special to him.

I always had an affinity with storms. They energize me. They somehow help me clarify my thoughts. I tried to explain this to my Grandpa once when I was about 10 years old. He wondered why all my siblings were huddled together on the big sofa bed we slept in when we spent the night watching a movie and I was standing at the window.

"What are you doing standing all by yourself over here?" (I'm sure he was just shocked that I wasn't talking) , he asked.

"I'm watching and listening"

"Oh" he put his hands in his pockets and stared at me curiously.

"I like storms, storms like me too" I said.

"They call that an affinity" Grandpa was always trying new words out on me... the ones he didn't use with his truck driver buddies.

"What's affinity mean" Unusual...but a word I hadn't yet heard of.

"It means that you are like what you like" Grandpa replied.

"huh?"

"It means the thing you like sort of talks to you"

"No Grandpa... it listens and whispers"

"I think you like storms so much because you are a little stormy yourself" Grandpa sassed, then he tickled me and convinced me to join my much more normal siblings on the sofa.

After that there were a few more *inside* jokes between us about storms whispering to me and how I should make sure they were not making stuff up...but I think he liked what I told him that day...I look back and remember a slightly puzzled and yet still impressed expression that he wore and I am pleased we had those few moments.

Grandpa died about a year and a half later....but he lives in my heart forever.

Years later my mother told me how Grandpa worried for me, he thought that I was brilliant but so emotional that I would be hurt and he was very afraid that I'd not be strong enough to resist those who would take advantage of me. There were times in my life that did happen, people took advantage of me and broke my heart and my spirit but when I came close to losing everything, including my mind... the lessons my Cherokee Grandfather taught me throughout his short life have stayed in my heart and always come back to save me before it was too late.

Grandpa called me *stormy* because I was a bundle of energy trying to keep my emotions in check but the more deeply I felt something the smaller my voice became... Storms whisper is to show that there is more beneath what I say than meets the eye.