Getting back up....

Children are filled with a certain brand of confidence (or stupidity) when it comes to a lot of things. They don't understand the concept of mortality and serious injury. Eventually, they do fall and sometimes in the process, get hurt. Then they become fearful. It is the job of the parent to make sure that they get back up and try again despite the nail biting anxiety the parents themselves may be experiencing because it'd be a terrible shame to raise a child who was fearful of everything because of the fear of failure or fear of getting hurt. That spirit of getting back up will go with them as they grow, as the newer challenges in life get harder. Going forward and tackling new things or getting back up and trying something again... It is only then that they will realize their own true potentials and become everything that they can be. It's about fully understanding the situation, but going forward and giving it everything you have anyway and finding a way to get it done and succeeding.
My kids may hate me for it now, but I pray that one of these days they'll look back and see that I was only  trying to do right by them. Child rearing certainly does NOT have that "instant gratification" thing that eating bacon has, but damn if it ain't worth every bit of effort you put into it!

:D

There are plenty of people who think ill of me in this world. There are plenty of people who've called me a lot of "not nice things". I'm not "weird", I'm "unique". I'm not an "idiot", I'm "alternatively thinking". I'm not "strange", I'm "exceptional". I'm not "delusional", I'm "imaginative". I'm not "funny looking", I'm "exotic". I'm not "crazy", I'm "creative".  I am a one of a kind and I accept the fact that you are jealous that I am my own individual and DON'T need to be a sheep and be like everyone else.

Love me, hate me, tolerate me, whatever, until you've walked a mile in my fuzzy, pink Hello Kitty slippers, don't judge me. For all the statements that some assert saying they couldn't care less about me, my life and everything that goes on in it, they stop by here anyway, seeing what's going on with me, my life and everything that goes on in it. So to them I say: Thanks for stopping by and checking in. Have a nice day. :)

The fairer sex my ASS!

I've never understood the reason why a woman would stay in an abusive relationship. <Slap!> "Shut up and go make me a sandwich!" I would think the typical reaction of any woman would be to bury a meat clever into the guy's head right down to his throat. But that's just me.
In looking around though and doing a bit of people watching, it is NOT just the women who suffer from "being the bitch". I have seen the relationships where the men are just as "pansy ass". The woman of the relationship constantly degrading her man and nitpicking everything. Everything from folding the laundry incorrectly (because there's a wrong way?) to the way he looks, eats, sleeps.... EVERYTHING. Nothing is done right. A woman trying to mold the man to be what she wants instead of accepting and loving him for who he is.... Keeping her man "down" so that he becomes easier to manipulate and control. Pointing out all of his flaws and barely acknowledging (if at all) the things that he may have accomplished.
I pity both sides of a relationship like that. The man may be a pretty cool guy to hang out with but may have a couple of handfuls of hang ups about himself or what other people think because they had been planted there. On the other side of that, the woman can't be happy having someone she obviously isn't happy with because she feels the need to "fix" everything that the man does and everything that he is. I get how there are certain compromises that need to be made in any relationship. Give and take. That's a given, but everything? The feeling of not being accepted for who you are has got to be a miserable existence. To be loved for the idea of what you should be by someone you are to consider your partner instead of being loved for who you are. It seems vicious and cruel.
I knew that it wasn't the right way to live or be treated and I've made changes in my life and found someone who accepted me for everything that I am, as I am. And vice versa. And  together we have been moving forward to bettering ourselves before making better the world around us. That's the way it ought to be.
I know that my Puppy Guts would never treat me like property and I certainly know that he would never disrespect me or treat me like I'm second best to anyone. And I also know that he respects the fact that I'm NOT a fair damsel in distress. I am a rude, crude, politically incorrect, loud mouthed, cussing, funny looking, flat chested, opinionated, sarcastic, walking conundrum and he loves me for all of it. It's awesome.

No....

No is a great word. Just the simple one syllable, two letter word that can say SO much all by itself. A single word that speaks volumes depending on how you say it and how it is delivered. Just like with any other word, the delivery system is quite important as well as the intent behind it and the meaning which you want it to convey. "No" can be used in such a variety of ways. Anything from denying someone something or the "no" that stops YOU from doing something that you will regret. Some people need to be a bit more assertive and learn how to use the word a little better. I know that saying "NO!" isn't always the easiest thing to do. I get that, but a single "no" once may end up saving a lot of hassle later on when the problems keep following you because you didn't say "no" the first time around.
Try the "NO!" in any situation, but use it wisely. There are some instances where "no" is the wrong answer. Common sense will generally let the more intelligent ones know when it is okay to use and when it is not. Go forth minions and give the word a try. There is power in the word "NO!" Go forth and discover them for yourselves.

BAD PMS.........

I suffer from occasional "bad PMS". It's not to say ALL PMS is good. I am talking about the bad PMS with the moody, bloaty, cranky things kind of bad PMS that leaves me feeling blah and screamy. My Lucky has been the greatest PMS buddy on the face of the planet. Craving foods all prepared, footie rubs with the good footie goo goo sauce, a nice back rub, sappy stupid movies, hair brushing, telling me how pretty I am, saying he hasn't noticed a change in my demeanor at all, rubbing my belly when I get the wicked cramps.... Hugging on me when I need a hug, snuggling with me when I need a snuggle and stepping away to get me more comfort food when I need it. He'll draw me a nice shower to the perfect temperature and get me in it and be ready with a nice warm towel to wrap me in to dry me off.... Aww....... My soulmate ROCKS!

Great! What happened??!??

I never know what to expect on some weekends when I wake up to find that the kids had already gotten up at some ridiculously early hour in the morning. It's when they sneak into my room and whisper, "mom.... mo-o-o-o-m...... MOM! ....Are you awake?" and I grumble in response that sounds something like, "whad you hee fo'....me makin sleepies......." They look at each other and then back at me and say, "Well, something spilled downstairs.... A lot of it. It's everywhere... How do we clean it up?" It generally springs me out of bed and I'm thinking about all the different things that could be spilled all over the place. Generally it's a gallon of milk they tried to pour onto cereal or juice they've tried to pour into cups. The attempts are always cute..... They explain how they were trying to make breakfast in bed for me as I spend the next hour and a half cleaning up their mess, but I have to admit, I do it with a smile.
Their hearts were in the right place and they meant well and I just can't bring myself to get mad about something like that. Then I help them out, we get the tray upstairs and I have my breakfast in bed. Soggy toast, soggy cereal and glass of juice with questionable floaty bits in it and a brown squishy banana. It's cute to say the least and I have to tell you, it always tastes pretty awesome because of a little extra ingredient they throw in called "love". By the time I'm done, the incident of how I had to clean up a tidal wave of milk and juice with cereal bits is forgotten and I've eaten my fill and the kids are ever so pleased with themselves. It's a blissful moment.

Mom to the rescue.....

I love how sometimes it just HAS to be me. It just CAN'T be anyone else. Even if it's something as simple as "MOOOOOOOM THERE'S NO TOILET PAPER!!!!!!!!" and I have to pick the lock and toss a roll to the child sitting on the can. My favorites are when they get stuck in a situation that they can't get out of. Head in the banister type stuck. Always entertaining. I can fix stuff, cook stuff, mend stuff, make stuff, sew stuff, knit stuff, create stuff, imagine stuff, help out with stuff, lift stuff, and do all sorts of other stuff that even the kids will admit is kind of handy and sort of cool. At least I get a little bit of the "coolness factor" in their eyes and I don't have to be the uber dork all the time! :)

One step at a time.....

There are some tasks that come along in life that seem rather daunting or just plain impossible. Far be it for me to give up though. Call it being stubborn, call it being tenacious, call it Fred. I've gotten through some pretty tough times/ shit and always managed to crawl out of whatever pit life threw me into and I did it my way. And it always began with a single step forward.
I guess all things in life are really that way. Whether it is to accomplish a goal or beat down a problem that you have. It's never a good idea to look at everything that has to get done. Small steps, winning small battles is what eventually gets the whole job done. There is a certain satisfaction to getting to the end of a journey, especially if it was a particularly rough one.
I'm on a path now. The end result leads me to where I want to be. The steps alone are treacherous and difficult and taking a lot of work, but as I get through one and start another, I keep reminding myself that I got through the last one and the one before that and it helps. My end result has much to do with my children and their future and when I see their faces and it fuels me more to grind my teeth and keep moving forward. The long path that got me to this point sucked and I'm sure that the long path ahead is going to be wrought with that same suckiness, but I know that my children, my Lucky and those I am lucky to consider my friends will help shine down a light to help me see the clear path to where I need to get to. It'll all be worth while. I know it.

Just, SHH!!!!!

I get reminded that where I live is not my house on a daily basis, multiple times a day by my dad. It is not my house and it is not my home. I am merely allowed to stay here. But of course, he wants me involved in everything that happens with the house. Me? I really don't want to be bothered with any of it and I don't want to know. It's not my fucking house.
The house is older now and things are starting to break and need repairs or need replacing all together. I get to be the person to call a repair whoever or Sears to whatever the thing so that the thing works again. I try to stay away, go away or disappear when the dude guy arrives because I don't want to know. Then there are times when I don't get out of the house fast enough and I get stuck.
Pop will go rattling off all sorts of stuff in random and VERY broken English, give up, start rattling off in Japanese and ask me to translate. Generally the things that come out of his mouth are not very nice. It gets to the point where I tell my mom to drag the cranky git off to a different room so that I can talk to the guy OR I tell her that I will go make myself scarce leaving the two broken English speaking old cranky people to deal with it all.
The first thing I will do is apologize to the guy for what was going on earlier. My second thing is to ask, "Can you fix it, fix it right and fix it fast?" They usually reply with a "yeah..." Then the threat comes. "Today sir, you will deal with me. I will leave you alone and let you do whatever it is you do. But if it breaks or stops working, you will be dealing with them next!" I say as I point to the door that the old gits are secluded behind. The guys nods and starts his thing. Then I offer the word of warning. "If the old coot comes nosing around, just ignore him. If he asks a question, pretend you don't understand what he's saying. He will call for me. The key here is to try and ignore him though. He will go away."
So many things have been fixed around this house over the last few years it's not even funny. But the jobs have always been done right and they're holding up. Now if I could only get the old people I live with to use the stuff properly.... THAT is a whole lesson in frustration on its own. Trying to show them how the stuff works.... Let me tell you! Pfft.

Great cup of coffee!

It doesn't happen all the time, so I treasure the times when it does happen. I woke up with a smile on my face, a spring in my step, "It's a bright happy happy sunshiny day!" attitude and I am ready! The reason? I managed to prepare the perfect cup of coffee. I don't measure the stuff when I put it in. It's all willy nilly and I slap the concoction together and flabammo. Cup of coffee. Today's cup was drinkable with the perfect strength, the perfect creaminess of the dairy dust, the perfect sweetness (not too sweet and not too NOT sweet...) Perfection in a cup. BLISS! I'm ready to go spank this day! WOOT!

My kids and their woobies.....

Each of my kids have a woobie. My eldest son has a bunny (actually, there's 12 of them.... The one he has and all the "replacement ones" accumulated over the years) named Bumbah, my second son has a bear rug looking thing (the only one as I wasn't able to replace it without him noticing something was "different") named Bear, my third has a teddy bear (only when he sleeps) named Corillia (I have no idea. He came up with the name all by himself...) and my daughter has her floppy teddy that she made at Build a Bear (actually she has four and she determines when she needs a "clean one", which is about once a week or so) named Goggy. Now, obviously, one never knows what ends up becoming a child's woobie. They just happen to form attachments to a certain thing for whatever reason and that's it. And it becomes VERY apparent that it is the woobie the first time the things needs "a bath". The tears and screaming as you coax the child into letting go of the woobie so that you can throw it into the washing machine..... The bribes and deals you make... Good times. It is usually then that you realize there is a need for replacements so that the woobie "never needs a bath again". Well, at least for my eldest (now teen... Who STILL has his Bumbah in his bed....)
There is a kind of insecurity that the kids experienced the first time they had to let go of the woobies for washing and I felt awful about it. The three younger ones weren't as fussed about the process whereas my eldest sat by the washing machine until it was done. That first time was always the roughest though. The two middle boys don't have replacements for their woobies which was fine and my daughter may have experienced a slight anxiety for about ten minutes.
The whole point to this post is that I know my children will grow up and will leave their woobies behind.  They have been told time and time again that the woobies will always have a home with me and the kids are NEVER to throw away the woobie, (Not that I think they would). These cherished pieces of fluff and fur, loved to the point of being held together with nothing but spit, tears and good intentions have shown unerring loyalty and comfort to my children through their most formidable  years up until that point. I already have a place where they will have an honored place in my home... But only until they have children of their own and have a child or children who have woobies of their own. Then they will re-learn to appreciate their own woobies and I may return them to the kids... Maybe....

Mini-Doom.....

My six year old daughter brings me much amusement. Being the youngest of four and having three older brothers, I worried about the kind of girl she might turn out to be. When I found out that I was having a girl, I went into denial because I didn't think I knew what to do with a daughter.....
It turns out I never really had to worry about her at all. Honestly, I think I worry more about my boys and what she'll do to them when they piss her off.
She has her moments that make me grit my teeth and raises the hairs on the back of my neck. The high pitched screaming and the whining and the sissy baby pansy type behavior that makes me cringe. I don't like it and I am doing everything I can to  curb it. She has gotten much better about it though.... Then there are times when she comes forth with the courage, strength and rage of a warrior that would make Chuck Norris (of Chuck Norris Quotes fame, ba ha ha!) flinch. She is becoming a mini little me.
Doom comes in a "Fun Size" now! WOOT! She does her mama proud. :)

Creating an awkward moment for my amusement....

Another amusing thing I love to do.... The silent, look off in the distance, incredulous stare of disdain. The one that causes the awkward moment for the person it was intended for. All just to see the reaction I get.
Let me explain. Most people are WAY too worried about what other people think about them, whether they are important to them or not. They even worry about what complete strangers think about them. Come on, you know the type. I like to do this with my "less than favorite people" whom I know have issues with it. I do the look. Try it.  If you continue with "the look" long enough, it creates that nice awkward moment for the receiver and then the fun begins. The nervous tension, the weird silence, the stumbling on words as they carefully try to choose the next thing that comes out of their mouth. Then they start filling in all the gaps and you start to hear everything and get all the information that you want and some information that you didn't, as well as things that you didn't even know about.... Then, intensify your "look" a little.  THEN they really start spilling their guts.
I know that it's the strangest things that I find amusement in. Apparently, it's part of my charm. Go figure!

Blood sugar issues....

I have a hyperactive metabolism (to say the least). I could burn the calories of a whole pizza just from lifting the slices to my face. Some people hate on me for that. Believe me when I say, "The grass is always greener...." It comes with its own set of problems. For one, sudden drops in blood sugar. ALWAYS a hoot. I could go from being totally fine to starving in the blink of an eye and "cranky" doesn't even BEGIN to cover what I get. Get between me and food and I will hurt you. A lot. I will cut a bitch. I have to keep nut bars or some kind of snack in the car or in my purse all the time for such incidents. Have you ever HAD to eat the "left at the bottom of your purse forever" nut bar? Gaaak! Not exactly appetizing when it's been melted and re-congealed a few times from constant temperature fluctuations and stuff... I would love to be able to gain a few pounds and pack on enough to be able to gain a wee bit more muscle tone, but it's just not going to happen. I can't eat THAT much. :s Dang it! Such is life. At least I'm not the fat cow I might be without my metabolism, with the way I go through food though...... And I DO love my food.

"Smartness".....

Adversity breeds creativity. Want and desire breeds ABSOLUTE GENIUS. Just watch children when they hatch a devious plan of some sort. I mean, don't get me wrong, their plans are always very transparent and predictable, but watching the wheels turn as they concoct a scheme and see their ideas coming to fruition (kinda) is rather and quite amusing.... I'm gonna need to keep my eyes open and stay on alert a little bit more. I have a feeling they might become challenging a few years from now as they perfect their methods.....

Eew... You SMELL!

There really is no polite way to let someone know that their breath stinks or whatever. There really is no way to let someone know that they are lacking in personal hygiene skills. The fact of the matter is, there is something very offensive about the "smelly person", isn't there? I mean not just for the obvious reason, but the yuck factor that goes along with it. And it's not like you can say stuff like, "I'm bored! Let's go brush our teeth!"  or "Yay! I have a fun game we can play! CAR WASH! You can be the car! I'll go get the hose, scrub brush and soap!" I mean you can offer a breath mint to someone, but you can't do the same with a stick of deodorant and baby wipes.
The worst is getting stuck in an elevator with someone who smells like ass. My first reaction is to look on the bottom of my shoes to see if it was something I stepped in, then I complain that it smells like poo, but DANG! Is it THAT not obvious that you reek like a dumpster full of shit in a sewer drain covered in a sweaty gym sock and an armpit? Blech!
What makes it even worse than that are those who know, then try to cover up the smell with perfumes and stuff.... Great! SO now you smell like the dog shit in a flower garden! Lovely!
A wonderful moment though, was being stuck in an elevator with my daughter and a "smelly person". My daughter took one whiff, made a face and turned to the woman and said, "Eew... You SMELL!" Six year olds can get away with that sort of stuff.... Hmm, I need to teach her more neat things to say....

Sentiments....

Words and sentiments really don't mean too much if there is not intent behind the words spoken or written. You can say to a person a thousand times a day, "I love you", but without the actions (that most often times speak louder than the words), they are meaningless and petty.

I end phone calls with my sister with "Sentiments, sentiments, blah, blah, blah..." because quite honestly, we can fill in the blanks on our own and understand what the other means without saying it, which may or may not result in some kind of verbal battle anyway.

Timing is another crucial element to using words. Whether it is to amuse or hurt someone, there is a certain rhythm or beat that you need to follow in order to deliver the perfect flow in order to get the best reactions.

Generating the perfect string of words can also be a daunting task, especially when one's vocabulary is limited... Trust me... It DOES get difficult to get a point across when the words are not there to accurately describe or convey what you are trying to say.

Nothing beats hearing the words "I love you" from a lover except one thing. FEELING the words. 

There can be no doubt that words have power. Use them wisely and make them sweet in case you have to eat any of them.....

Facebook....

Facebook is like a psycho girlfriend because:
1.) You want to break up with the bitch because of her mood swings and constant changing personality,
2.) You met a lot of cool people that you don't want to lose as friends because of the break up,
3.) You're constantly being told how to think and the constant predictions as to "what you want to know" is driving you nuts,
4.) You fear for your security and have to check to make sure that all your shit is still safe all the time,
5.) the relationship provides a lot of amusement, but the hassles are just as big,  
6.) you wish it was like when you first met and it didn't change.
 7.) You stick around and hope it goes back to the way it was, knowing full damn well it won't,
8.) You pray it won't get worse, knowing full damn well it will,
9.) You get the promises that it'll get better and it doesn't, 
10.) You're looking around and everything else seems a helluva lot better. 
11.) But you stay because you are afraid that : a.) it might get better, b.) you might miss out on something. 
...And besides, it's hard to quit her.... :s It's all love/ hate.

 

Unstoppable?

I really think that if it weren't for physics, genetics, lack of forethought, mental ineptitude, short attention span, financial depression, fear of possible retaliation against my family, impending zombie apocalypse, lack of minions,  law enforcement, possible imprisonment, my O.C.D. and how easily  distracted I am by shiny objects, I'd be unstoppable.

Sticks and stones....

I don't get how some words or hand gestures mean so much that they bother people to the point where they run away covering their ears and doing the "LA LA LA LA LA LA! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!! LA LA LA LA LA!!!!!!" thing, but there you have it.
Words are weird, aren't they? They can evoke so much emotion and depending on how you string them together, they can mean so much. Obviously, it is easier to convey certain things verbally as opposed to written down on paper and read as you get the full flavor a little better being able to hear and feel the idea, emotion, the context whatever. Written on paper.... I mean, you can get the general gist of what's being said, but something generally gets lost in the translation sometimes. Semantical nightmare.....
Words can be used to make people feel, react, express themselves and they can also be used to hurt. It's true when they say you can't take some words back. That's not to say that I won't speak my mind and continue on doing what I'm doing. I've got so much still trapped from years of biting my tongue and at this point, I've no regrets. I may seem like a wicked, sharp tongued bitch, but it's not anything that I haven't had dished out on me and haven't been able to cope with.
I've been called so many things in my life and I thought over them. Quite honestly, I really can't recall a time where someone's words impacted me to the point where I wasn't able to deal. I may have been affected by words for a certain time, but for anyone to ask me whether I remember any negative episode that is going to damage me forever? Schnope.
I've spent this last year reflecting on many things. Family, not so family, friends, not so friends, occurrences that I took a notice to, things that caught my attention, things that have sparked my interest, things that I've learned about the world around me as well as things I learned about myself. I have thought over the many things that I feel passionately about and things that I realized I needed to let go. A brick at a time, in some cases, there are things that I have made peace with and gotten to a point where I no longer give them power to have a hold on me whether it was people, ideas, thoughts, random happenings.
On this path, I have discovered that the people who do matter don't say the things that are truly hurtful, they aren't malicious and untrustworthy, they love unconditionally and that I should be concentrating more of my time and effort on positives rather than everything else.
Sure, words have their place in provoking a range of emotions, but the point is, without allowing them to have the power to affect you, they hold nothing over you. In turn, the people speaking those words hold no sway either. Those I hold dear shall always be held close and those who choose to try and take me down, they will only see me laugh and smile. Just know that I will briefly be "mother fuck"-ing you on the inside before you get scraped off my shoe as just another piece of shit I stepped on, on the road of life.

Ninja!

Wouldn't it be cool if life was like some of those ninja movies? We'd all be all sorts of silent WACHOO! warriors and stuff all sorts of traveling roof top to roof top. The neat-o mosquito ninja costumes and swords and ninja gadgets and crap!
I know. I'd still be the ninja falling on my face and crashing into things, but still. I just thought it'd be neat is all. Yup.... This was brought to you by another random thought that popped into my head. Traveling at a constant 500/second, it was lucky that this one was coherent enough for me to actually verbalize. Now if I could only bring to words something a bit more useful, like a cure for all diseases or figuring a way for one and all to have free internet access all the time no matter where you are.
Ninja chop!
Yes, I know I live in my own little world sometimes, but it's okay. They all know me there....

The resilience of kids...

I get along with kids and animals so much better than I do with the rest of the world....  I love watching little kids fight, play and all around interact with each other. I'm not talking about the older ones. I really am talking about the little kids, before they actually get too polluted with the personality flaws that come when they are taught to be everything that I hate. You know, selfish, whiny, mean, cruel, cowardly.... The list goes on. But with little kids, it's different.
First of all.... Physically? I've seen some of the falls and diggers these kids take. A sphincter puckering experience, to say the least. The kind of fall that would have put an adult in traction at the hospital for a week, kind of stuff. They just get up, brush themselves off (or in some cases, look to cry a little, get some comfort and they move along). Then off they go again like it never happened.
They play like they mean it and laugh and giggle and take delight in everything that they see and do and it wasn't a malicious thing either. Do you remember what that was like? Carefree and without worry. Being able to enjoy THAT particular moment. And because it was truly a moment that DID bring amusement, PURELY for the sake of amusement. I miss those days.
And when they end up getting into a fight with each other over the most petty of shit (although in their minds, it's quite serious and world changing...) it never really lasts that long. Before you know it, they're playing with each other again and the incident is forgotten. When does THAT all change?
There is so much that any parent or any adult for that matter could learn from watching little kids. Not in that creepy yucky way, but just watching. If you took the time to WATCH them and paid close enough attention, you'd see what I meant. And we'd learn a whole shit ton from them. Just sayin'....

The yumminess comes.....

I wouldn't say I'm great in the kitchen. I slap together meals and they're edible. Ya know? I function... There are times when I get the opportunities to go all out (although rare) and make up the concoctions that I love. Bold, rich flavors or spicy yumminess or whatever. Stuff I wouldn't normally be able to put down in front of the kids and expect them to eat.
AND if it's a craving that I'm trying to satisfy and I'm super mega hungry? O!M!G! Is it me or does it seem like it takes FOREVER for whatever it is to finish cooking... WRETCHED! You smell the tasty deliciousness and it's right there and you're so close, but still so far away.... DANG! I've literally stood at the timer and counted down seconds and minutes. (As a side note, half cooked anything that should be cooked all the way through should NOT be consumed.... Bad things... Bad, BAD things...)
I keep a supply of beef jerky and nut bars at my disposal all the time. The thing of it is, I have the metabolism of a Tasmanian devil. I could burn the calories of a pizza just lifting the slices to my face and chewing. Some people hate me for it. Thing of it is, it's not a fun thing to live with. I forget to eat sometimes or I just ignore the "hungry" when I'm in the middle of something. Then I go from being fine one second to having blood sugar issues the next. Fun. So I have a nut bar and some jerky. Then I get REALLY hungry. That's when the cooking process can't happen soon enough... I can't win.
Pfft.... Quirk.

Help-y Helper-tons....

There is a "sickness"among people that keeps some people SO unaware of their environment that they don't even see what's going on around them. Maybe it's that they are "trying to mind their own business" or maybe it is that people in general are so insensitive or just THAT desensitized to everything. Maybe it's a case of people thinking "It's not my problem!" or "That is better suited for someone else to handle!" but won't take the steps to ensure that someone who CAN take care of the problem isn't called to the scene.
I know that I am not well suited to rescue someone out of a burning building, short of my children and the dog. I can't do the job of a bomb squad or some other specialized anything, but I'm not even talking about that. I am talking about the things that you can do on an everyday level that honestly? It wouldn't put you out more than a couple of minutes of your time or a few bucks out of your wallet.
I've helped old people load their groceries into their cars in the parking lot in the rain. I've shoveled driveways for those I KNOW wouldn't be able to do it on their own. I've bought many a meal from ANY fast food place for countless homeless people. I've stuck around during situations where things that were happening in the off chance that maybe there was something I could do. I've comforted people (strangers) who were obviously distressed and were in need of assistance. I've called for 911 or stopped on the road or highway to ask people if they needed help or whatever. All this while others simply ignored what was going on and went about their lives....
I'm not sure when the switch happened, but when did our society start to turn such a blind eye to the rest of their fellow man? People are shitty. I get that, but still... It sickens me to think that we, as a species, have become so "Meh..." about everything and everyone, that cries for help are going unheard. "But I give to charity!" or "I've donated to <insert cause here>!" Nameless, faceless individuals, other times in different countries (who hate us and would like to see us dead in some cases...)when there are literally cries for help within an earshot of where you're standing. Does this make any sense to you?
It's pretty sad because there will be those who will read this and nod their heads and say, "I know..." and there will be others who will grimace and say, "What the fuck are you talking about??!??" It says a lot about where the world is heading and it frightens me.

Happy Birthday, Puppy Guts!

I find myself thinking about all the things I want to say to you on your birthday. "Happy birthday, I love you!" just doesn't seem to cover the gamut of all the things I want to express to you. I've posted and told you in person, face to face everything that you mean to me and everything that you are to me and yet it still doesn't even begin to cover everything that my heart and soul feels every day. It doesn't even begin to express the feelings and emotions that I have at the mere thought of you. You have more of me than anyone ever has. For every thing that you have ever told me I was for you, you are a hundred times that for me. We've seen and done so much and accomplished quite a bit. I know that there is SO much more of the world out there and I know we will be able to conquer it all, as long as you are by my side. So, on this day, I'll just say thank you. Thank you for being here, being everything that you are and being mine. XOXOX Happy Birthday, My Love. Always.

Being a mom....

As a parent, we all want to do everything that we can to shield our children from the harshness of the world and protect them from everything that could potentially hurt them. There are also times when we HAVE to let them go out and experience things while you sit in the background, waiting in the wings while biting your fingernails to little stubs and sweating and crying and dying a little bit and sprouting white hairs... You get the idea.
It's probably one of the most difficult things to see and experience. Watching what once was your squishy little baby gaining more independence and doing more and more things for themselves. And of course, coming to the realization then that despite the fact that you want to, you can't protect them from everything. And what parent hasn't wished that they could take a pain or some kind of suffering from their child and take it on as their own.
You instill in them EVERY bit of "wisdom" that you can and hope and pray that despite the fact that it looks like they're not listening, they did HEAR you and that those nuggets of information are rattling around in their heads somewhere and that when the time comes, they'll be able to call upon it and USE it. You hope and pray that you have helped them to build the strong foundations for them to be fine, upstanding people.
I guess it's always going to be that I see my children as squishy little babies despite how big or how old they get. And I'm always going to want to shield them and protect them despite the fact that they say, "Mo-o-o-o-o-o-om!!! Come o-o-o-o-o-on! Sto-o-o-o-o-o-p!!!!"
They'll become parents too someday... That's when I'll be able to point and laugh and say, "Bwa ha ha ha ha!!!!! NOW you get it!"

Laughter....

I love to laugh. No doubt. I do. Sometimes it's because there really is something funny to laugh about. Other times.... Well, not so much. I know that I have the oddest sense of humor and that I find the strangest things to be quite amusing. I laugh because it feels good, regardless of what's going on. I try to make light of any situation and get those around me to laugh. There really is something to be said about the healing power of laughter. Really. Granted, there are times when laughter is not appropriate. It's not like I'm a giggling idiot all the time. (Just SOME of the time...) It's not that laughing is the only thing I do. Sure I cry, I scream, I pout, I whatever, but by far and away, I think laughing is one of my favorite things to do. I'm not talking about the laughing that some will do at other peoples' expenses nor am I talking about the malicious laughter that comes from people making light of others' woes. I am talking about the type of laughter that comes from a place that fills one with a joy and heals a person. Think about the purity of the laughter that comes from kids playing or babies giggling because they have toes... I think there are a lot of people who should try it more often.

Fourth of July...

Not just another one of those "drinkin' holidays" folks! This is a day we need to be celebrating our country and celebrating being AMERICAN. Being proud to BE an American. It is not some foreign country pride day, it is not some reason to go out and bring light to something or someone that yada yada yada somewhere else. No. This is a day about THIS country and its people. Everyone else has a day or month to celebrate being something "different" in a country where IT'S ALLOWED because this is America. The least people can do, LIVING IN THIS COUNTRY, is embrace that fact, especially when they claim to be something other than American. Stop and think about this for a moment. I'm not saying, "don't take pride in being who you are." I'm not saying "Don't be proud of your heritage." I am saying that this is a day about you being able to do that without fear of being stoned to death in the streets or punished in some other way. Me? I will say, "Proud to be American!" EVERY day and be all "YAY AMERICA! GOD BLESS THE U.S.A.!" Happy Fourth of July!

Road Rage...

I get how sometimes  road conditions can get to be a little annoying. Weather, idiot drivers, accidents or road work that blocks traffic... They happen. It's frustrating at best and it sucks. I get it.
But this "road rage" thing I don't... I'm not talking about flipping someone the bird who REALLY deserves it, I'm not talking about laying into the horn. I am talking about the absolute and total rage that some people experience. The yelling, the screaming, the cursing out of random people. They get out of their cars and go absolutely APE SHIT or go all "vehicular manslaughter" and use their cars as weapons of destruction and chaos. I am talking about the people who will go chasing down another car on the highway because of a perceived slight or because they were "cut off" in traffic.
I've witnessed these actions a few times in my life and honestly, it's quite frightening. I may not have been the target for said rage, but still... Scary. I don't know what possesses another person to become THAT angry that logic and reason escapes a person like that especially on the road. Driving is a harsh lesson in statistics at best. Anyone who has experienced an accident (severe to minor fender bender) whether they were "at fault" or not can attest to that. Being behind the wheel can be dangerous. It's not necessarily the skill of the person behind the wheel either. It could be about everyone else on the road.
Think about it for a second. A car is a big metal box filled with a heavy engine with stuff on it. This very heavy object is hurtling down the roads at speeds that your average human cannot ever go on foot... The momentum of the car coupled with a rapid deceleration... Honestly.
Then when you mix "the science" with "human error"... Not pretty. THEN to top it all off throw into the mix a person experiencing road rage where logic, reason and thinking skills have flown out the window. Think about an angry person. They are irrational and potentially dangerous. Behind the wheel, they are potentially lethal.
This is just a random thought that crossed my neural paths and I figured I'd post about it. Drive carefully and be safe on the roads everybody. You never know what you'll come across traversing the many roads and highways....

My dancing skillz....

I know that I have covered time and time again that I cannot dance to save my life.... I came up with a plan to remedy that.
I saw on TV these "interpretive dance" people. I fell out of my chair laughing. They made my skillz look AWESOME! So here they were, spazzing out, having convulsions, shaking, waving, bouncing around like idiots, and here were these people watching and being "moved" by what they were seeing. Seriously??!??
So, I have now decided to become the NEWEST sensation in "interpretive dance". I figure if a bunch of people can fool others into believing that their "dance skillz" are "art" and call it graceful and beautiful, then I want to be the Supreme Royal Highness of Interpretive Dance. Just sayin'..... I've got this new one I've been working on too.... It's called "Mia makes toast and drops it on the floor, butter side down, goes to clean it up and forgets where the butter is on the floor, misjudges where it was and slips in the butter and falls on her face". (Yes it actually happened, for real... What... Like YOU'VE never done that?) It's going to be a smash hit!

ER visits...

Never a fun deal, is it? For whatever the reason, we all make our way to the hospital for an emergency room visit. You get to sit in the waiting room with other victims of circumstance waiting to be seen, triage, relaying whatever it is that's ailing you to the triage nurse/ doctor, waiting some more, going to be seen by an ER doctor/ intern, waiting some more and have them tell you what's wrong with you and fix it or have them tell you that they have no idea what's wrong and take tests. Blood and pee and whatever else they can squeeze, suck out of, scrape off of you... It's stressful at best.
I get that the ER must see a gajillion people a day, ranging in ailments from imaginary to really quite serious. I mean, at some point, any ER employee is going to get to a point where they can say "Now I've seen it all..." Can you imagine some of the things that might have come through the doors?
I know of one incident that happened. A male at a bar, in trying to impress a female, popped a cue ball into his mouth. It went in okay... However... When it came time to taking the cue ball out of his mouth... he had issues. An ambulance had to be summoned and needless to say, that individual never showed his face around that bar again... Probably not even close to being one of the more "interesting cases" to have walked through the doors either...
I've been to the ER plenty enough, whether it was for me or one of the kids, not to mention friends, family, not so friends and family... And I will admit that whether it was me or someone else, I ALWAYS have to wash the "hospital ick" off of myself and shower and scrub until it hurts.... Yeah... Good times.
I have to give props to the people who work in the medical fields. I'm sure they've had more than their fair share of icky things spewed on them, coughed on them puked on them, sneezed on them, spilled on them... Not to mention the things that they must see on a day to day basis... I couldn't handle it.
Seriously! Bless you all for doing what you do! Whether it be EMT/Paramedic/ First Responders, nurses, doctors, aides, interns, the people who admit you and take all your info, techs, whatever... Thanks! I'm sure I'll be back for something... Again....

Sleep...

Sleep is something that we take for granted sometimes. When we have it, sometimes we complain it wasn't great or whatever. When we don't have it, we beg for even the worst night's sleep. When we can't sleep, there's the contemplation of what to do about it. Then of course the being sleepy during the day thinking, "Damn! I would kill to get a nap for like an hour!" and when the day is done and you're ready for bed, you can't sleep. <sigh...>
On the rare occasions that I do get a decent night of sleep, it's never really enough. It's hard playing catch up when you're down so far. One night of good solid sleep feels great but when you're not getting it all the time, it feels worse later. Or being roused in the middle of the night by something. The kids are one thing. Most of the time it's nothing, easily solved and they fall back to sleep within seconds, as do I. But if it's either the martyr or the cranky old git? Forget it. Drama ensues because something and nobody sleeps. It always turns out to be nothing, but still....
I do also have those nights when I have my Puppy Guts sleeping next to me. Hearing the gentle sounds of him breathing, feeling his arm around me as he's snuggled in close. Ahhhh.... Waking up to hearing him tell me he loves me as he gives me the goofy, "still warm and fuzzy from sleep" smile... Priceless.

Yeah... So?

I'm not saying that I accomplished much in my misspent life, but it's not to say that I don't like myself or who I am. Let's take the time to analyze this: I have four of the most awesome kids on the face of the planet who love me despite the fact that I'm a dork. If you count Lucky's kids, who seem to like me, I've got six. I've found my "other half", my soul mate, as it were, that has seen me through some pretty shitty times and some great ones, who allowed me to soar and held me close, who loves me for everything that I am and lets me know that I am his everything. I've managed to see a part of a ten year writing project come to fruition. I'm finally beginning to understand a lot of things in life, mostly in my own, that led me to be where I am now. Roller coaster ride? Absolutely. But I have no regrets.

I hear a lot about what my life should have been. Shoulda, coulda, woulda... Whatever. Not too much I can do about it. I keep moving forward because looking back really does me no amount of good. I hear about who I should be. Really? I'd rather be hated for who I really am than loved for someone that I'm not. At least that way, I know who really matters, who I need to hold close and know where it is that I need cut ties. I hear a lot about the negatives going on in my life, when I have so many things that are positives. Wallowing in negativity really does nothing for anybody anyway. I don't need the excess and I certainly don't want any excess in negativity.

I have the critics of my life and who and what I am, but I have fans too. I'm good with who and what I am even though I am still a work in progress, I can live with that. No one gets to dictate to me about who I'm supposed to be, where I need to get to and how I'm going to do it.

Pouting...

There are just some times, despite the fact that I try to be as consistent as possible when it comes to the kids, that I feel my willpower crumble and fall to the floor into a pile of dust. They feel one way about something and I feel another. It's not to say that they don't get their way all the time. It's not to say they get their way ALL the time. We try to find a certain balance between the two. Compromises need to be made all the time. They do try, however, to do the pouting thing when they just CAN'T have whatever they want when they want it. Yes, it causes the eye roll reaction and exasperated sigh on my part, but still...
It's hard not letting them have their way all the time. Although I would LOVE to be the good guy and give them everything that they ask for and let them do everything that they want, I KNOW that in the long run, I'd be doing them a terrible disservice and turning them into the very people that I have no respect for. So I stand firm and do the best I can. It sucks being the bad guy sometimes... I hope that one day, my children will see that it wasn't that I was being the bad guy, but I was trying to make sure that they turned into the kind of people that others will look up to and want to be. In the meantime... Yeah... Sometimes it sucks.

The interwebz...

The internet is a great source of entertainment, information and communicating with people all over the world. There are so many social networks that people are plugged in to and forums for discussions of every variety. It's awesome! Having an "argument" or "heated debate" with a nameless, faceless individual about a very hot topic is great. You both passionately argue your point and go back and forth with each other and all without fear of repercussion, rejection, loss of a friend, whatever. It's great. Some of my greatest "arguments" have taken place via the internet. I print them out and save them. I pass them around to people, I get other people's opinions about how my arguments and points that I brought up were, where they were valid and where they were not. It helps to make me a better "arguer". A good portion of the time, we have a great big laugh over it, sometimes it sparks another discussion. Discussions that lead to back stories and first hand accounts and facts lined up side by side. Lo and behold, some times light gets shone onto certain aspects that some believed to be invalid points until certain facts are brought into an unfinished equation. That's when real conclusions are able to be drawn.
I think some of the most fun I have are discussions about religion. It's sad to me that my being "unaffiliated", I know more about the certain aspects about somebody else's religion when they are supposedly "devout". Sigh.... I suppose it's easy to hide behind the cloak of the internet and talk a good game in the comfort and safety of the webz... Speaking up and out on a soapbox on the internet is one thing, but being able to do it in real life as well... THAT'S where it's at. So I do or I try to and in the appropriate venues. I bring the internet with me in the form of print outs and hone my skills of observation and debating skills. It's been quite enlightening for many involved. Heck, I've even brought along other sources of information and I've learned quite a bit myself and I'm still learning quite a bit.
There are so many broad topics out there in the world that can spark great conversations or debates. I won't be able to jump in on all of them, but I figure, if every day is supposed to be a learning process, I might as well keep filling my mind up with as much as it can take and keep on going. With the "net" it makes it so easy...

My spazosity...

The extent of my spazosity really truly knows no bounds. Sure, there are people who probably think, "She can't POSSIBLY be that bad!" No, it really is. My spaz factor is legendary in certain circles. It's not like I haven't tried NOT being a spaz. Watching my step or being careful or trying to pay attention to what I'm doing.... But for every one thing I try to put more focus on, the less another gets, making me somewhat more of a danger to myself and those around me. Sure! Of course there are moments in my life that I can actually function like a normal person. (It generally happens when I'm sitting still...) And my day to day is filled with going here, going there, my needing to be somewhere at some point during any given portion of the day. Yes, I suffer from bumps and bruises all the time. I don't think there is a day where I'm not sporting one somewhere... But I function.

I've lived with my spazosity all my life. I've learned to compensate a lot in order to make room for it. It's not to say that I won't try new things that take coordination and grace. Hell no. Life is about going out there and taking chances and going out and doing. Fear is another one of those things that prevent people from going out on their own and doing things. Sad. These people live their lives for other people for fear that they won't find acceptance or whatever else. TRUTH be told, it makes them a wee bit pitiable and sad. I'll not let something or someone dictate to me whether I am or I am not. And that goes for everything. In discovering quite a bit about myself over my lifetime, I am pretty happy with the way I'm turning out.

Hummus and other yucky stuff...

GAAAAAAAAAaaaK! I know... I know!!!! I don't know what it is about certain foods that give me the skeeebies... (The best description is hearing Lucky's dad say that eating yogurt is like eating a bad cold...) Hummus and peas... I'm sure that they are just lovely and wonderful in your world and very tasty and all that other crap. For me? NO. It's not to say that I don't try from time to time just to see if my opinions have changed.
I took a cracker and I dipped just the very tip into the hummus container and I put it in my mouth and I chewed... And I spit it out because I knew what it was.
The likelyhood of my being able to explain my  "-ness" to anyone about food in order for a person to truly understand me is slim to none leaning more towards none and slim being about a wide as the thickness of a piece of paper.  I'm just awesome like that.

Being polite...

Being polite sometimes means you have to suck things up and deal. You have to listen to what people have to say or at the very least, make it look like you are. For whatever reason, there are moments that you have to. I'm not one for making those moments too common and I like to be  as "to the point" as I can because I do not have the time to sit and listen to some idiot yawing on and on about something I really don't give a shit about. I'm just saying... I realize that I tend to be a little abrasive... (just "a little", Mia?) (Shh! MY rant!) but I do have the ability to curb myself at times appropriately and I do function in "civilized" society... The nod and smile methodology is what I use. So, if I'm nodding and smiling, but I'm not talking or responding and the vein in my forehead is visibly throbbing, it means I'm biting my tongue and I'm being "polite"... So, please... Just finish your "conversation", be done and be gone. You lost me the second you opened your mouth.

Weirdness....

What is "weird", anyway... I mean it is defined as being "of a strikingly odd or unusual character; strange". So, why is it that I have to be  considered weird? I get that I may not be your "standard" American woman. I chose family before "career". I don't like "shopping", fashion... meh, jewelry... meh, shoes...meh... I speak my mind, I can drink, play and hang with the boys and feel comfortable, I own up to my own burps and farts, I don't think in the "standard way", I don't subscribe to a lot of the "new ideas" regarding everything, I do things differently... I have quirks out the wazoo, I'm an uber spaz, I have very dorky tendencies, when I find something extremely funny I laugh like a hyena AND I snort when I'm laughing too. I find the oddest thing to be amusing, I look like an idiot in pictures, I find myself in odd situations or at the very least witnessing odd situations. There is a laundry list of things that I suppose may qualify as being unusual, but do these traits make me weird? I say nay! They make me unique.

Exercise...

I tried doing the aerobics... Once...That didn't work. Neither did step aerobics, tai chi, or anything that involved ANY kind of coordination what so ever. It's not to say that I'm a fat, lazy, soft, flabby bastard. I get in exercise when I can and how I can. But doing the gym thing or going to a class and whatnot? Can't do it. I've tried, but yeah... No.
Yay for people who can go to the gym or go to a spinning class or whatever. Me? Nope. Can't do it. I thought for the longest time that it was because I had no discipline, so I gave that some thought. (Of course...) Sure I lack a little bit of it, but I sure do have enough of it to NOT slap some people upside the heads that I've come across who REALLY deserved it. I've gone through a book writing process once and will be taking on that project again in the near future. I have my routines and schedules which I stick to for the most part. I'm not downstairs nomming on the junk food and all the bacon.I do, however, have a problem with authority and people trying to tell me what to do, how to be, who to be and how I should do it.
I started traversing through a lot of inane topics after that since the attention span lacked the laser focus it has (on rare occasions), but it is something I thought about. The conclusion that I came to? I'll exercise when I can and it won't be conventional. Will I get the results of a gym rat? No, but I don't need to, don't want to and quite honestly, I don't have the time. Toned is just fine by me.

Pissed off...

I guess despite the fact that I've been trying like hell to not get so fuckin' angry about shit and crap, there are going to be times when shit is going to piss me off and I'm going to get angry about shit. I think I have the right to fuckin' get angry from time to time. Misplaced? I don't fuckin' think so. There are so many things that I suppose I should have been angry about or remained angry about. New path being what it is, I've been trying to let a lot of it go. So far, it's been working and I feel a lot better. There are times though, when it doesn't go that smoothly. A certain chain of events that singly may not have been so bad to deal with, but with them stacked up all together? Yeah... No. Will I work through it? Of course. I've found that taking the high road on certain things is a lot more rewarding in the long run. Is it easy? Well, yeah AND no... But never one or the other ALL the time. I'm a work in progress and letting things go is still an effort sometimes. It's not to say that I won't get my pound of flesh, so to speak. But there is a time and a place for come uppance...

And that means what to me?

I've been called a lot of things in my time and quite honestly, I'm sure I've been called worse. I let a lot of these things go and quite honestly, I am a bit too calloused to be affected too much about what people say about me to care too much of their opinions any more. Everyone is entitled to their opinions. I would truly be impressed however if these same people who criticize me could turn that critical eye on themselves and be harsh and honest about their own short comings and voice them out loud.
It's hard to look in the mirror and be honest about yourself. I get it. But at the end of the day, a strong person looks into the mirror, recognizes their shortcomings as a flawed human being and takes steps forward to do something about said shortcomings. THAT'S the important part. I may still be working on that bit, but I've come a long way. A lot further than most.
I'm a work in progress. I say it a lot and I suppose I won't ever get to a point in my life where I can say, "I'm done. I'm perfect just the way I am!" I know that there are many things that I can still change about myself for the better to be a better person. It's a slow and steady process. I'll get there... Just sayin'......
So go on about your sad little lives and speak what you will about me. You have my pity. Carry on. It's okay. You'll just have to pretend that I care.

Hey look! A chicken!

There are so many things that go on inside my head at any given moment, all the time, every day. It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't know what it's like. The constant bombardment of "noise" is something that I lived with for as long as I can remember. A good portion of the time, I am able to stay on task and do what I need to do. There are days find it very hard to focus on things simply because it seems everything distracts me from the task at hand. I eventually get the things I need to do, done, it just takes a little longer. Then there are days where "scatterbrain" cannot even begin to cover my issues. I lose objects, I lose my trains of thought about everything even mid sentence, my conversations seem almost non-coherent because I skip from one subject to another and if I'm talking to someone who doesn't know me, I sound like a babbling idiot. Shiny things and fast moving objects snag my attention, my brilliance runs into overdrive and then I get the bouts of insomnia. The O.C.D. makes it all worse because I tend to obsess on certain ideas, thoughts, concepts, songs, pictures, whatever and then, it gets worse from there.
I know I covered this in a post, and what it's like to live with my brain but strangely, it seems there are those who still don't quite "get it" and find the need to make fun of or make light of it or even try to tell me that it was all in my head and that there isn't a problem, get over it. "But they make a pill for that, you know..." Yes, I do know, but it also changes everything that makes me who I am. It chemically alters your brain and changes your personality. It stops the flow of this and and increases the flow of that. It blocks this and blocks that. We live in a society that is over medicated. Seriously. And I've spent enough time having someone trying to tell me who and what I was supposed to be, who I was expected to be. Bite me.
I'll keep my "issues" thank you. I've lived with them all my life and quite honestly, I think I'd be at a loss without them. I still manage to function, proficiently. I still manage to get everything that I need to get done, done and well. And my quirks set me apart from the crowd. We've already got too many dime a dozen, wannabe/ wish they were, cookie cutter clones walking around in their pathetic little existences in their little bubbles. I like who I am.

The "club"....

Exclusivity seems to be a trend... It follows through the school years, all throughout college and beyond... "You're not part of 'the club' so you wouldn't understand..." I never really got that. I think that it is the diversity of a group that makes for a great time. How fun is it really when you have twelve of the same person in a crowd? I would rather think that it would just be stupid and boring. I might as well sit home and have an intellectual conversation with my reflection in a mirror... Diversity makes for more stimulating conversations. When you have a group of people from different backgrounds, different political standpoints, different ideals, different belief and religions. Someone who will say, "That's fucked up and these are the reasons why..." or "I agree with you on this point, but I disagree here because of these reasons..." It opens up a dialog that can be deeper than your standard, "I know! I totally feel the same way because that's what you said and I would have said the same thing!" You learn more about yourself, your friends and about the world in general because it may open you up to something you may not have even thought of. Then, me being who I am, I will go out of my way and find out more, learn, discover, uncover... Whatever. Simply because I want to know more.
We've got our own "club", me and mine, and it's not really "exclusive" so to speak. There are certain things and behaviors that we won't tolerate of course, but  for the most part, we've opened up the doors for everyone who wanted to cross the threshold. We talk about all manner of subjects and topics and we won't mince words if we feel passionately about something, but at the end of the night, there aren't any hurt feelings. Go figure.... I guess that's what it means to have a mature friendship...
Our club ROCKS more than yours!

Nomming...

Nomming IS a word. I don't care what anyone says.
Anyway, the act of nomming should be enjoyable. It shouldn't just be done because it needs to be. What's the point of nomming noms that you don't like or doesn't taste good?
Moderation is always a good thing. Obviously, it isn't a good idea to overdo anything and in excess, but then again, enjoying the noms and being an absolute pig are two very different things.
There's also different kinds of nomming. Nomming noms and nomming things like toes... Both are enjoyable. Nomming off other people's plates is always nommier than nomming off your own. Om nom nomming anything freshly baked is ALWAYS a bonus. Nomming is awesome. There is no negatives to nomming. Nomming is always a positive thing. Nomming while making the "Om nom nom..." noise is acceptable. In fact, I think when nomming, it is mandated by LAW in some places. Nomming nomable noms with nommy nom noms? Awesome...

Snugglies...

We may not have a lot and we'll probably never live an extravagant life, but I know that we will always have an abundance of love, passion, honesty, trust and snugglies.  I can share everything and be at my most vulnerable and still feel safe and secure with him and he feels the same way with me. He shows me incredible amounts of love  in an act of passionate ...um... private time, or within a single touch, the intent behind every whispered "I love you" or even a silent caress of the cheek is felt right down to my core. I am never in a want or need because he gives me all, every day.
Our time together is precious and we don't waste it with the trivialities of stupid things that would rain down negativity on our parade. Sure we talk about everything and share in the burdens of our woes from past baggage, present issues and worries of the future, but that's the way it should be. There are battles that need to be fought on our own, but knowing that we have each others backs with no fears, no secrets, no reservations and nothing to hide is actually kinda cool. I've never had someone understand me or know me better. EVER. Because of that, it makes our snugglie time better. Nothing but being zen in a blissful moment, at one with my Lucky, snuggled up on the couch or where ever and chillin'... Nice!

Whatevs!

I gave a long, hard look at some of the things that make me nuts. Not the good kind of nuts, but the bad kind. After careful analysis, I have come to the conclusion that letting things go has been the best way to deal with certain things. Letting go of certain burdens or baggage simply because there really was no point to carrying them any more. Dropping the bag of bricks.
I have several more that I keep lugging around, but slowly, the grip is slackening because I'm getting awfully tired carrying them around.
Considering how far I've come (and how far I've yet to go), it gets a little easier sometimes to let go of certain things. I'm getting there. You just wait and see....

A small happy...

A small little happy moment can make all the difference on an otherwise crappy day. This goes for anyone. I suppose I could walk away and leave and ignore someone to be miserable on their  bad day, but there are times when just the simple act of kindness from a stranger could make all the difference in the world for someone. Helping someone pick up their groceries after the bag rips open, helping some up when they've fallen down and asking them if they're okay, buying coffee for the Salvation Army bell ringers at Christmas time, buying some kid an ice cream at the ice cream truck because he didn't have enough money, or throwing change into an expired meter for the person who's parked there.... Whatever. It's that simple. What did it take away from you? A couple of minutes of your time maybe? There's an added benefit too. You may just end up feeling a little happy thinking you may have just made someone's day. A random act of kindness for a perfect stranger. I try to do at least one a day. Just saying...

What's with the cat?

So, the question finally came about... (I thought it might eventually...) "It seems like you see yourself as a cat... Most of your posts here and on FB, especially about you, have a picture of a cat... Why?"
Well, it's not that I see myself as catlike for most of the obvious reasons. Cats are broody and moody and will be super friendly and with one quick turn will become vicious and will lash out unprovoked because the mood struck them. But they are also sleek and agile, evil and cunning, ferocious and deadly. I see myself more as the tenth cat... Let me explain:
9 out of 10 cats will fall and land on their feet. I, much like that tenth cat, will land on my face.
9 out of 10 cats are natural hunters and are able to hunt down quick prey. I, much like the tenth cat, will hunt down the most comfortable place to sit or lay and may or may not stir unless food is brought directly to me.
9 out of 10 cats are agile and lithe. I, much like the tenth cat, am a spaz of biblical proportions and have been known to crash into walls and trip on my feet while standing still.
9 out of 10 cats are indeed evil and cunning. The evil part I may agree with, but I feel bad after a while and much like my counterpart, the tenth cat, cunning? No. I'm about as clever as navel lint.
As far as deadly and ferocious? Maybe on taco night... But that's a WHOLE DIFFERENT KIND of deadly and ferocious. I've been known to offend the dog and he ate poop...
Yeah... That's the explanation. It's not really that I see myself as a cat by standard definition... I relate to the tenth cat...
Oh... That and I am the Kittenpuddles to my dearest Puppy Guts...

Cats...

I don't know what it is about cats and dead things, but they love their little dead furry things. I had a bunch of feral cats in my neighborhood. Regardless of the weather, I always saw them wandering around. I started putting out boxes in the woods around the property and leaving the garage door cracked open just enough for them to sneak in especially when the weather turned bad. It worked out. I didn't have rodent problems at all and the cats had somewhere safe to crash out for a couple of hours from time to time.
The problem was the way they showed their gratitude... It was great that they wanted to, but I have to tell you, I really didn't like the "Let's see what the cats left for me on the front doorstep today!" game. It wasn't exactly one of my most favorite games. Sometimes they were dead furry things or scaly things, slimy things, feathered things... Sometimes they weren't so dead and still twitching or flopping around... A couple of times they were very much alive and either very confused or VERY angry...
The sucker that I am, I always called out, "Thanks guys!" before I got rid of the dead / not dead thing of the day. I'm really not sure if it was gratitude or if they were just fucking with me, but I like to see it as them being grateful... I'm just going to keep telling myself that....