The Tediousness of an Enormous Life

I have so many things that I need to be doing and I find myself at 4 am wishing to find some way to blot out the enormity of it all.  Sometimes I feel as if my life is strangling all the creativity and goodness out of me.  I would like to say that I am more the optimist and look at life as if the glass were half full, but lately I don't think that would be the direction my thoughts take.  What I mean to say is that I am more on the offense than I have ever been in my life.  I feel most anxiety bases itself around the assumption that for every good thing I accomplish, there is an epic failure waiting patiently to manifest itself directly in the path of my self proclaimed happiness.  I resent this.  I feel so much pressure of this enormous responsibility I willingly embrace as my day to day life.  I want to do so many good things.  I have miles of ideas that seem to be swallowed up by the dutifulness of responsibility.  I wish I could just tell the entire world to go fuck off for just a few days and turn itself without me.  Which means, why must I be responsible for everything and why do I give a damn about things that WILL NOT HAPPEN unless I do them?  Where is the happiness in that?  I don't know and I'm losing patience with myself because multitasking has redefined itself for me.  All it means is doing ten things half-assed until I get time to do it right and that is redundant and idiotic.  Something has got to give and I am feeling as if I should hold out a cup and stand on corners and shake it.  Alas pride and duty doesn't allow for such paltry sacrifices of dignity, but occasionally at 4 am, I wish I were that shameless.

So I will leave now because I must get back to answering emails, paying bills, sorting out my computer issues and praying I won't fold under pressure of dance tomorrow.  I've been asked to choose music that defines me and the disco ball that is me feels this task is impossible.  Ask for the moon instead.  I might be able to achieve that.  It feels more attainable than finding my alter ego.  I want to ask the dance teacher.... which one do you want?  

The Stigma Surrounding Being Medicated

Hello.  My name is Twotablesnotime and I am medicated.  I have been medicated since 2002 when my sister Lynn passed away from an overdose of Oxycontin.  The horror of watching my sister die for a week was too much for me.  I circled the drain self medicating and finally landed myself in a psychiatrist's office.  Then the merry-go-round of prescription drugs began.  I don't know which is worse,  the dangers of street drugs or a doctor attempting to find the perfect recipe using me as a main ingredient.  I had a lot of tests done.  That was when words like ADD, OCD, PSD and Bi-Polar whirled around me.

It was misery.  Coping with loss and attempting sanity.  Then getting pregnant and having to go cold turkey was torture.  If there is such a thing as hell, it is being trapped inside your head and not being able to cry out.  I suffered through that without telling my husband how horrible it really was and how close a friend suicide seemed to be.  I just wanted it to stop.  However, I wanted to be a mom more.

There is a stigma attached to being medicated.  Truly.  I have asthma and severe allergies.  I went to emergency care over an asthma attack and the doctor tried to tell me it was in my head.  Can I just say he looked at my chart and saw my medications and said this?  I called him a worm and told him it took me all night to get where I was and not to fucking tell me what he thinks is in my damned head.  Then I guess he saw I had insurance and wanted to run a battery of tests on me.  This is where I told him to basically go fuck himself and that I was leaving.  How insulting can a person be?

Another doctor, my podiatrist took anxiety personally.  How dare I cry in her presence.  How dare I be anxious.  Lady there is nothing wrong with me other than the fact my foot hurts and I waited an hour to see you and I think you are a sadist because there are no stools in the waiting room to prop my feet on.

Which leads me to the whole reason I'm writing about this.  I just called about having my prescription written for pickup early since its due while I'm on vacation.  I was told my voodoo doctor refused this.  I was ok with that until I was informed that more than likely I won't get a refill until January.  So I must go a whole month without my medication.  WTF?  I have been a patient for ten years.  This is bullshit.

So now I'm freaking out that I won't be me for a month because its too bad my doctor won't see me.  My head doctor.  How am I supposed to cope?  Good luck with that Faye.  Bite down hard on the shit sandwich.

Say ummm and thank you.

Beauty of Uniqueness: Collection Reflection

I am excited about a recent eBay win.  I didn't think that I would win when I bid, and usually those are the types of auctions I tend to open my email and find 'Pay Now' invoices.  You see, I have an eclectic love of glass.  No, I'm not that Waterford Crystal kind of girl.  I love the way light shines through glass.  It's mesmerizing.

 

I love the artistry it takes for someone to just take a lump of nothing and make it into something spectacular.  So I'll talk about my collections.

 

I collect porcelain dogs and cats.  The little ones made for shadow boxes.  Some expensive, others, not so much.  I've been collecting them since I was ten or so.  I can't tell you how many I have, but I know it's probably more than a couple hundred.  I'm trying to find something to showcase them in that keeps dust and fingers out.  Right now they are all lovingly tucked away in boxes waiting for the day I find that perfect way to keep them safe.

 

Then there's hand blown glass balls for my Christmas tree.  There's nothing like white lights shining through them.  My Christmas tree is two things:  glass balls and birds.  I try to add a new one each year.

 

My Christmas tree of Birds and Light

 

Moving ahead, my favorite of all my glass and porcelain collections has to be my bottles.  I collect vintage bottles from the sixties and seventies.  The ones with glass stoppers.  They are to be the centerpiece of my new living room I'm putting together.  I have a rug from Capel Rugs that just happens to match all the colors of my bottles and it will be a challenge to shelf all of them and tie my living room together.

 

So back to my eBay win.  I won a kaleidoscope made by Sheryl Koch.  It is magnificent.  I had to tell my husband I won it and I am still in awe of the fact that I did.

 

I have this vision for my living room.  I have custom twenty two foot long window.  My husband replaced all our windows when we bought our house, and that long window lets in amazing light.  I plan to fill that room with rainbows of color and happiness.  Mostly of silicon base.

 

Assimilation is Futile! You will be Resistant - huh?

Damn.  I am going through my CDs and now realize I have two separate time zones in my life in these little shiny disks.  College.  Wow.  I used to sleep more then.. and damn, I own way too many Kenny G albums than doctors recommend. (*SNORT* LAUGH* GUFFAW*)  AND sounds of Nature?  Enya?  Oh Faye.  (*GIGGLE*) tranquility was musically induced.  I have envy of the me before the other me.  Making sense?  I hope not.

 

Then with much work, HOLY CRAP.  AK 1200... Madame Mercury...I vibrated my house and added two more days of music to my disk drive.  Oh yeah, I hate Apple and iTunes.  Useless program that powers my iPod.  Oh well, I engaged the machine.  (PLLTTTT!)

 

I even managed to pull one special CDR back from the dead.  Hemisphere.  Then sat and dug through my records to label the tracks.  What a time in my life. 

 

(Still alive!)

 

I turned on the amp and spun the first six tracks of Madame Mercury and sit here basking in the glow of HELL YEAH, I OWN these records.

 

*Bangarang*

 

Going to go see Cyndi Lauper next week.  I happen to have that Barbie.

 

IT's FANTASTIC!

 

Tying Knots in Every Aspect

I have become nimble in the art of tying things into knots.  I'm teaching my daughter the art of friendship bracelet making.  Upon looking through my craft hoard, I came across some black cord that gave me an idea to replace some missing belts from a few of my robes.  So wow, I learned how to braid a five strand braid.  Excellent belt for black robe.  Nattie is wearing a blue dress this morning.  Found a video on how to tie a bow using two fingers.  Pretty impressive.  Was looking at craft toys for Nattie.  Found a gadget that braids cords.  Cut my own stencil and used yarn to sport yet another braided creation that I'm pretty sure my daughter can master easily.  Sounds pretty fidgety doesn't it?  Why don't we throw in some felt pom-pom hair bows too...modified with a felt flower in the center and I made a sunflower.  I think I'll attach that to a headband sometime.

 

All this knot tying has been fun, but I really wish sleep would prevail.  I'm raging an inner argument with myself over values.  It seems monumental to even unravel the mystery of mixed feelings and unease a dear friend triggers whenever we speak these days.

 

I cannot sit quietly.  My friend violates the moral standards I hold near to my heart, and I realize the sensation as repugnance.  Dislike.  Anger.  Hurt.  Then bitterness..as I see the effects cascade into my life.. just because I am within range and sensitivity.

 

I cannot settle.  Settling means loss of dreams and ideals.  Sparks and creation die within the strangling hold of being less than I choose to be.  This will hurt.

 

Whether we want to admit it or not, other people's lives affect us on some level.  I cannot ignore how I feel.  This person, just by association, makes the past crash into my now and Zen.

 

The more I listen to myself, the more I see the forest.  I must fell a tree.  It is obstructing growth.

 

What to say and what to do?  Be myself.  Breathe.  Sleep will come when the dust settles.  Who knows?  Maybe the tree will grow back and surprise me.

 

Magic thinks.

Hopes.

 

Halloween and What I want to Bee

Halloween has always been magical and so much fun around my house.  My daughter has always accepted my costume choice with enthusiasm and even at seven almost eight no complaints.  I always went overboard because she has always made the costume just come alive in gymnastics and dance and of course, out to trick-or-treat was the icing on the cake with thee oooohs and ahhhs of adults cooing over my child that never appears to be preening and voguing, but I know full well she knows how to work over admirers.

Now I find myself ranting at the computer and realizing the month has flown by and I have yet to go teach Character Education for the month.  I have mirrors decorated for each child stating:  Respect Begins with Me! and then there are my worksheets, and my favorite tattooed picture to rouse up conversation, along with Shel Silverstein's Rotten Convention to read.  The ranting came over having to hobnail my printers together to print off all the sheets for the kids with color.  Now I'm sending it off to a new teacher, praying she likes them and being irritated at myself for doubting my teaching abilities.

Then there is the computer guy that is coming to my house today, supposedly.  Just talking to him on the phone makes my mind swirl with all the possibilities.  I can't help it.  Magic is thinking big again, and my expectations come with a red sticker.  Said sticker inspires people to think to the track 'Do the Hustle'.  I need to stop.  The conflict of what I feel and past experience doesn't rate judgement before I meet him.  Sad thing is, I was more excited in the beginning, because meeting DD DJ was a shiny new experience and how fun was that!?  So he reeled me in like a mackerel just because of common interests, singing with him was cool (he actually isn't bad when he's not crooning country) and he didn't see my knife by invading my personal dance space.  Then, after not enough sleep and realizing I about know his entire life story in less than a month....ooooh Faye.... DJ said Computer Guy was his 'friend'... SHIT BRAIN... stay here....but your body just left for help!!  This inner dialogue reached tantamount heights with DJ being middle man.  Again.  Brain thinks:  THIS IS NOT A DOPE  DEAL... it's my computers.  EJECT! EJECT!  Then I met his daughter.  Oh how I wanted to like this child that was trying to be more than a kid.  But no, gut said:  good with daughter, but she will probably find Shrubbery on first night and have the gall to hang out in your room and breathe.  THUD!  Damn, I know what feeling she gave me!  ITT.  Intent to touch.  I never make snap decisions on kids, because that's what they are, even if they are so ego inflated that high speed thought processing can only be achieved during REM cycle.  Boy do I let my mind just take off running.  Anyway, I prepared myself for disenchantment ... only to find myself putting DJ on cruise, so I can downshift and test this man's injectors.  *sigh*  Listening to him speak was so mysterious and fun ... I finally know a Bruce.  A person.  I have always secretly thought Bruce was just a sexy man name which was pinned on faceless pinnacle moments (There are people that do, and people that lie about it)

OK, new paragraph because that one is on the line of TMI.  Anyway, this voice with this name sounded so 'in season' and I really couldn't divine too much on the phone .. which also means this thing is a bit long and I didn't even reach the part where I dressed up as the Bee Girl from Blind Melon's music video: No Rain. 

 

    

I will dedicate myself to blogging another entry about Halloween, because there is too much for one entry, so.....

Gotta run.  LATER today, I will talk about Bruce again because I'm being weird, and for me to actually see it.. hum.  I wanted to add this man to my bucket list the moment I clapped eyes on him!  WTF?  I'm not used to exertion of composure skills   The crazy part was me wanting to tell him.  Then calling up DJ friend and telling him that he should stop TRYING to ever explain his friends when he has overcompensation issues.  Anyway, I'm digressing.  I do want to twist his ear though.  He's worse than my BFF for gossip that is sideways bad.

So I want to discuss shadows.  Holding hands with Nattie.  I believe that was the best part of trick or treating.  Running with her hand in mine.. our shadows cast stark against the night... happiness..

John observing a bee lover come out of his home to watch Nattie and I get into his truck .. and how I blushed when John told me.  It felt weird to be worried about what impression I left.  I merely wanted to be that Bee Girl.. out loud ... because I always have been. 

 

 

What happened for My Birthday: The Inside Scoop

So I had to go back and read what I wrote about the whole forty business.  The blog entry was entirely true.  I did downplay how freaked out I was about my husband inviting family to my house.  I about had a clutch of chickens, but didn't due to hyperventilation.

 

What I'm getting at was the whole nefarious sentence followed by the Ah-cha-cha.  Well, there were no dollar bills involved.  I found out Blue October was playing in Charlotte and decided that was where I was going.  Alone.  My husband heaved a sigh of relief for a couple of reasons.  One, he didn't have to go to a topless bar with me.  Two, he has no idea who Blue October is and the one song he knows makes him gag.

 

So he programs the Garmin.  I print maps.  He draws maps.  I freak out that people might know I am forty.  I actually wondered:  'hummm be married?'  What?  Of course you are. 

 

First incident:  I stopped to pee at a rest area.  In club clothes.  *sigh*  I did some glaring.  Then called my husband and he said I didn't use his map.  I began to curse and said I listened to the #*)(#%&#*()) GARMIN.  Anyway, the outdated Garmin didn't take me all the way to the Filmore.  Praise God I pulled in to ask for directions right next to the place.  SHUT UP.  I did it.

 

Parked the car.  Walked inside.  While adjusting to lights, got a lecture on which side of the blue tape to stand on.  WTF?  OK.  Dude.  I just got here.  *sob*

 

It used to be that people with tattoos and piercings were going to hell.  Nope.  Now its people that smoke.  I had to go find that place and called husband and I freaked out about being so damned short and afraid of being stepped on.  He told me maybe I should go try and upgrade my ticket.  I practically hung up on him to find someone in a staff shirt my age.  Guess what VIP means?  It means one can sit the hell down.  It also means the floor in the bathroom is matte and you don't have to think you are standing in human fluids.  The toilets are still black, but I didn't have to hike my outfit two directions.  And with a one piece outfit that nothing but you fits inside of, that part was a relief.

 

WOW.  BLUE OCTOBER was amazing.  They came out and blew the crowd away with Sway.  I was in heaven.  Self satisfied, I did it, fuck you forty heaven.

 

After a few drinks I wandered because damn the people these days suck.  Talk to them and they act like you have some disease.  Except this awesome guy named Adam.  I told him I loved his Doc Martins and he spun on his heel and said I was cool people because I knew what they were.  When I told him emphatically they were Bangarang, he said he loved me.  A chick that knows Skillerex.  At that moment, I loved him too.  He was hot stuff.  We sat in my car and dried out together after the concert.

 

The funniest part of the Adam incident was telling him I have to pee.  We pulled over to the weeds and I threatened his life if he looked.  He didn't.  I had the best time with this guy.  I drove him to his car, which was a million miles away and drove home.

 

So I stopped at the other rest stop.  Dear God.  Some weenie asked to see my tattoo.  I said no with a world peace smile and locked my doors.  This is where I envy men.  They can piss in a bottle.

 

So following the Garmin again, I ended up at a friend's house to finish drying up and come to the sad part of I really am 40.

Boredom versus Having a Life: I wish for the Grey Area

Things that may cause the world to shift magnetic poles seem to crop up around my universe and its clogging my Feng Shui.  I thought I really needed to get a life when the fact of the matter is I have an extensive one with all the options.  I find myself wishing for a daily set that includes less.  Call it downsizing if you will. 

 

No longer shall I wish to pull vocal cords out of the people that exclaim how happy they are to see me out and about.  Too messy.  Let them think I'm a loser hermit.  Then they won't ask for anything all the while saying they are the type of person that doesn't.

 

Next, rebellion.  I pass on that.  Rebellion is for those wishing to fuck everything they know up.  I am not that type.  Shake things up.  Sure.  Rebel.  After thinking it through and giving it a test run, forget it.  Rebellion happens to belong to the mind set of do first and think later.  Never works for me.  I'm going to add rebellion to the list of things that happen to other people.

 

More Grey stuff.  So I had some new sign ins for my cave.  I then labeled my Grey Goose bottle:  Dear Maverick (me), You did not kill this goose.  Stop sharing.  Then on another bottle I put in white out:  Dear Bitches (not me), Don't ask where the other bottle is, the answer is NO.  For emphasis I wrote a HUGE 'NO' on the neck of the bottle in white out.  This would be the Captain Morgan.  Top shelf bottle location will not be revealed in this blog.  No is no is NO.

 

I had to do all that note writing because my flask system failed on me.  They drink all that too.  I'll quote one of my lush friends with her own words:  "Mr. Snake, would you babysit my pet rat for me?"  The thing is when the snakes have been in your cave, they know you have bottles somewhere.  Dammit.  Thus we've moved bottles and left kind words on others.

 

Then there is a new sentence I believe I am beginning to dislike.  Formerly I thought it was kind of cool.  After hearing it frequently, nope, it sucks.  Ready for it?  It's a shame you are married.  Another version:  I wish you weren't married.  Be thrilled right?  Wrong.  If you happen to be hanging out this line is fishing for whether or not I'm some cheating skank.  That's in extreme cases.  It can also be the opening statement for finding out if my life sucks so bad I'm willing to their entire life story since I don't have one.  Blah.  Now don't sit there and think I'm some kind of Grinch.  Not every person that says this makes my hackles rise or makes me throw up in my own mouth.  There are very few though.  OK, yeah, if a woman said this to me, I'd probably piss myself with laughter.

 

So then there's women.  I have two girlfriends.  And that is a shaky number.  The rest pretty much hate me.  I'm working on a synopsis as to why I believe I should use the word hate emphatically.  But its hate.  If this were the Matrix and I were Neo, I would want the DAMNED blue pill.  I want to wake up in my bed and believe whatever I want to believe.  But no.  Somewhere along the line I ate that red one.  Therefore, I know its hate.

 

Expanding.  So some people I haven't spoken to in ages send me facebook messages trying to sell the fact they don't talk to my starter husband.  First rule of thumb, if you swear something to me, I believe its a lie.  This person checks in from time to time to see if my life sucks enough to be destitute, which means he can check me off his bucket list.  One of these days when I'm mad enough I'll ask him if my theory on this is true.  He asked why I unfriended him.  I want to write back and ask if he wants the truth or a good lie.  I've hung out with him, he ate the blue pill, or he wouldn't ask.

 

More on Facebook.  A family member I don't speak to asked me to call because he had a question.  Then the next day a cousin leaves me a voicemail.  I hear Twilight Zone music in my head and wonder what nefarious plot is being hatched to fuck up the fact I am seeing my parents and sisters.

 

Holy shit right?  My parents?  I know.  They built a deck on their house and I didn't know it until about a month ago.  I'll be damned if a few cousins and an Uncle are screwing this up for me.  I called the Uncle anyway.  He wanted my help to get his GED.  I cried.  It's true. 

 

However, I'm not calling the cousin.  After the couple of sideways posts on my page that even my husband caught and laughed about, I refuse.  Sideways means:  I have an Aunt that sees me and says wow, I'm not as fat as I was last time she saw me.  I have another family member to comment on my hair.. and now I have a cousin concerned about my tired eyes.  All this is meant to be complimentary.  Complimentary bullshit that came with the side pack o' lies I endured because I love my mother.  I DON'T THINK SO. 

 

Well fingers hurt, and there is so much more to talk about.  I guess I'd better start posting again.   

My Birthday

I don't feel any different than the day before, yet here I am, forty.  My husband convinced my sisters to come visit and after the initial shock, it turned out to be a good thing.  I was able to enjoy listening to my nephews feet hit the pecan tree branches and my niece giggle.

 

My daughter pulled out her banjo and sang Happy Birthday in front of my entire party.  It was amazing.  I was very proud.

 

The actual day, I went to a massage therapist and had lymphatic massage and it was wonderful.  It left me feeling drained from all the energy.

 

All in all, a good birthday.

 

Not to mention, a few days earlier, my daughter helped me find my missing rings.  I'm a lucky person.

 

The fun isn't over though.  This weekend my husband and I are out for more nefarious adventures in turning 40.  I told him to bring lots of dollar bills.  It's going to be fun.

 

Ahh-Cha-Cha!

Count Down to Forty

In few short days, I will turn forty.  It's hard to realize I'm that age.  I don't look it, don't feel it, but nevertheless, here it comes.

 

I've decided a few things about forty.  First off, any person that begins with 'Lordy-Lordy' shall be cut off in mid-sentence with verbally or physically.  It raises my hackles.  Come up with something new people.  My inner self says the people that will try will be those who learned the hard way that I don't like 'Marsha-Marsha' either.

 

There's a lot of take about cougars.  What?  I think I'll be a puma instead.

 

My husband says maturity began for him at forty.  That means I have a few short days to grow up?  I think he's full of crap.  I refuse to lose my sense of wonder that being a mature adult seems to suck out of a person.

 

I have deemed forty to be a good year.  And so it shall be.  Mature or not.

Alright, this is not mature.  Do I want to go to a comedy club for my birthday?

No.  I want to go to a topless bar with a goody bag.  Because I'm growing up afterwards.  Anybody suggest such a nefarious birthday?  No.

YES.  Now I shall bitch and moan and tear out my hair, beat my chest and wonder if the people around me actually paid attention to the whole lifestyle change talk.

I'm doing it for myself, yes.  But encouragement and going out in style would be nice.

Blowing a Fuse and Not Waking Backup: Really

Lucky #20.  The magical breaker supplying power to the outlets in my cave.  It took much patience not to throw my battery backup across the room to make it shut up while I shut down two computers, and my music equipment shaking from the sound of blowing a light bulb combined with the unmistakable smell of electrical discharge.  I almost feel sorry for the camel cricket that jumped across my slippers as I groped with my cell phone as a flashlight in a corner of my basement.  I said almost... I screamed.. but didn't drop the phone.  Cricket just had to jump back within two feet of me.  I am sure parts of that bug are between the fibers of my sock I jumped so hard. 

A Busy Blog

I went on vacation thinking about the whole busy thing.  The gears turned.  Alas I could do nothing as where I went on vacation had no Internet and WOW, Sprint decided to turn into weasels and drop where one can call in and turn one's phone into a hot-spot for about a dollar a day.

 

So anyway, I came home and looked at my blog again.  I've decided to change a few things, but for the most part, not so much.  Busy is what I am.  And this blog is me.  So, since I'm not selling anything, I think having a blog I like looking at is part of the joys of diversity.  However, the people that gave me tips were spot on with some things, and I thank them for helping me find my way.

 

Weekend at the Office

My weekend has been so full of excitement.  Forgive me for ever complaining about being bored.  Boring sounds so good right about now.  However, drama follows me like static cling and it feels like another day at the office.  *sigh*

 

It is amazing the things that go on in my life.  I wouldn't believe me, but alas I was there.

 

I just Wish for a Moment Laundry Fairies Existed

In my world I have to cram school shopping and getting my daughter's closet ready for school.  I so do not want to go into her bedroom.  It depresses me.

 

I wish laundry fairies were real.  I would pay to have laundry whisked into cleanliness.  I would accept one of those dudes from Harry Potter and treat them like gold.  Please please someone clean my daughter's room and fold all the laundry.

Banjos, Strange Calls and Wait There's More!

So today I went with my daughter and picked up her new Deering Goodtime 2 Banjo.  We are going to be starting banjo lessons and are fully committed.  The banjo was incredible and sounded amazing.  My daughter's face was priceless.

 

Before we get to the music store my OnStar car phone rings.  I only give this number out to few people so I answered it.  Wow, I talked to a person I had pretty much figured I sucked since I didn't answer several calls.  It was nice to be honest and tell her I didn't call her because I simply couldn't handle that kind of drama sequence psychologically, and she was OK with that.

Something about that Voodoo and the Toilet Paper

I have realized I'm hungry.  Hungry to know why things are.  Why people are what they are.  How all those things work together for the human condition.  Mostly I'm hungry to navigate in a world that appears to overflow with knowledge, but in truth, the fundamentals are lost.

 

I lovingly call my psychiatrist the Voodoo lady.  You would have to see her to understand.  That and you would have to be at the lowest point in your life and need to talk to someone and the secretary tell you all they give is medicine.  Wow.  But the short video I added is kinda fun.

Delegation: When Things Get Too Big

So I've decided to find someone to sell some of my stuff for me.  I don't have the time or the energy to do it all.

 

I found a perspective person to do this.

 

I'm just scared I'll end up with that sandwich my blog refers to all the time.

 

Here's to NOT wishing, but making things happen.

 

And not having a clutch of chickens in the midst of it all.

 

Then recovering from shock and coughing feathers for a year.

 

BLAH

Going Out and Wow Making a Friend: For me Crazy Cool

I went out Wednesday night to the local pub and ended up making a friend.  A friend that knew old skool train of thought.  It was refreshing.  I had so much fun.  Just being myself.  And was able to be married, admit it and the person never crossed the line of stupidity.

 

I'm so happy I can still have the ideals of a person that doesn't settle.  These moments are few and far in between.  It might have been just one moment, but I'm GLAD I had it.  It renewed me in ways I needed so desperately.

 

GOD, YOU ROCK!

Fix A Flat: Is There an Ego Patch?

I wish I could buy a can of Fix A Flat and spray inside my head for my battered Ego.  Because I am losing a war on being able to understand people.

 

I un-plugged for a few days because I needed a break....

 

WHAM!

 

I opened my voicemail to hear a stranger tell me a dear friend can't talk to me anymore.

About the DJ Reference: Old Skool

I'm having one of those days.  So I have been out on the Google+ front looking for people that DJ.  I could care less about whether or not they are somebody big.  I go hunting for people that have real turntables and own vinyl.  Not somebody with a huge CD collection and a Karaoke machine.  I call myself a DJ because I meet those requirements.  I have two Technics SL-1200s and a Pioneer DJM 600 (OK and a big Gemini amp that would burn the house down and speakers).  I DJ in my basement.  I like breaks and progressive trance.  I can tell a story for just about every record I own.  I don't take requests.  I don't play for crowds.  I play for myself.  I play my best when no one's at home, when I am upset and need to vent and when I have my 'Magic' hat backwards on my head.  And for those that know, NO I don't use the beat match on my mixer.  Tweaking a record is the best therapy for a bad day.

 

You might shake your head at me, but no one can shake their head at a girl with my vinyl collection.  Sometimes I just put down a record and the memories come flooding in.  I've met a lot of awesome DJs.  Some big and others not so much.  I've heard some greats.  DJs that told stories with music...

 

My first brush with the underground electronic scene was when Babylon's still had First Fridays in Greensboro.  Talk about off the chain.  That place is surely missed I am sure.  Then there was Dizzy G's.  Wow the times I had there.  The only place still open I used to have a big time at is the Odyssey in Winston.  However, the underground feel has been lost in time and space.  The freaks still come out there, but the music hit the toilet.  I used to live across the street from the Odyssey, but now its not much to brag about. *sigh*

 

Where have all the old skool people with bad ass original vinyl gone?

 

About what the Dell I'm Doing

What the Hall is up?  I FINALLY know what the Dell I'm doing.  That's right!  Get out the Gold STARS and plant one on me!

 

I love Dell in terms of Hardware.  I do.  I like getting a computer that has exactly the items I ordered included.  Right out of the box.  That said, I really dislike thinking I need technical support from them.  No. No. No.

 

Not again.  No more toilet tank phone systems that thank me and hang up.  No more transfers to departments like Business, Technical, Customer Care, Customer Loyalty, Business Support, Home Support (!) 

 

No more repeating myself and staying awake and losing days of my life.

 

I am so glad that is behind me.  Again, I love the computer, but 50+ people all calling me Marsha and expressing how sorry they are for all my troubles began to get old and I theorized I aged during that process and I think most people give up and that is what they count on.

 

Keep me on hold for more than an hour and it is annoying.  Keep me awake 48 hours straight and it becomes personal.

 

It took three hours to get a complete refund for an extended warranty service.  I was hung up on three times and bounced into four departments.  Finally, resolution.

 

Every single penny is important and I don't like things falling through the cracks.  I am glad I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 

Dell, I'll stick to hardware.  Honestly, I think you should too.  You're good at hardware.  I believe in the hardware.  As for service, if you're looking for a pack of well trained, certified professional Weasels, give them a call.

 

Especially if you like hearing your first name.

 

I will throw them a bone and say I am glad a refund only took three hours, and it was in full.  I didn't have to say anything drastic ... a month long list of names and dates took care of that.  Plus the Weasel that tried to tell me the words 'pro-rated' stopped immediately when I told him that I don't mind writing Michael Dell again, and I have the home office number (maybe the shaky asthmatic voice won him over too).

 

What's this about Michael Dell?  The year before at 3 in the morning I wrote a letter to him.  I thought this was a self therapy to at least feel a little better about having to send a laptop back twice as defective.  I received a phone call the very next day.  That blew my mind.

 

I got my third and final computer days later, discounted.  Again, amazed.  This is not an exaggeration.  Sometimes a heartfelt letter really makes the difference.  This time, I didn't feel so helpless, and they came through.

 

And no one was ugly.   I did all the ugly and crying back at the beginning of the year.  So with a light heart and pretty much no loss of money on finding a new source of Tech Support, I can move on to other projects.

 

YAH!

 

I Made an Executive Decision: Living Room Furniture

Nattie Sitting on my Future Living Room Furniture

My living room has been empty for way too long.  We installed hardwood floors and I told my husband that I was not going to move or buy furniture until I found what I wanted.  It is very hard to decide what I've wanted for my house in terms of furniture and style.  I've spent a long time going through things inside my home and giving away items that I do not use to good people.  The thing is, I honestly I don't know a lot of good people these days.  I have seen it all.  People that take things and never use them.  People that sell things you gave them.  Or worse yet, beg for something and abuse it.  I come from having nothing, so all these things bother me.  So now, after many social blunders I have a house with things I need to sell because even charities have left me disgusted.

Keeping that in mind, I have not bought furniture and my house has remained empty.  I am tired of empty.  So I found new furniture for my living room and now have two months to get rid of the excess furniture.

 

What was so incredible was finding furniture that would work in my home and John didn't ask to go look.  He told me to take care of it.  So I have.  I went to Midtown Furniture looking for a day bed and found living room furniture.  Did anyone know furniture comes with insurance policies?  I asked for getting the spray treatment which used to be a ton of money and discovered I can cover my furniture for five years against anything.  How cool is that??  I have a seven year old, a dog and a husband that likes red wine.  I'm so glad to have peace of mind against everything from burns to spills and broke springs.

Projects I am Wrestling and Too Many Irons on the Fire

I have so much going on in terms of projects I need to find time to educate myself properly, and the list all demands time spent on the computer.  Finding correct resources to explain things has me scrambling to just stay ahead of my own game.

I decided to purchase a domain.  I purchased my own name, since twotablesnotime happens to be a name I thought up myself.  I want to know that things I post within my blog are mine, but didn't want to get in over my head, but it feels like I'm already there.  I don't understand Google AdSense and I want to find ways to better utilize my blog.  I purchased my domain from GoDaddy, and hopefully they can help me figure it all out.

I am teaching myself so many different computer related skills on a Have-to basis.  I have tried employing people to work with me.  Whether it be my computer manufacturer or independent IT individuals, and it seems I can't get everything I need from one source and pouring money into these places only frustrates me with the lack of customer care.

For example, as mentioned in my blog, I've worked extensively with Dell and I never received closure with all the problems through them.  Frustration led me to solving the problems myself, but again there was money spent and I haven't called them because I lost a week out of my life, and I just don't have time for another week to disappear.  However, I'm going to have to revisit the fact I spent good money on a service they are not providing, and should be.  I should not even have to chase this down, but I do.

I have other computer projects, but unless I get some resolution, I fear I'm going to make a disaster out my computer, and they are supposed to be helping me.

Another thing is deciding how to sell a bunch of things I have here at home.  I need to list so many things on Craigslist, but the sheer magnitude of items makes me leery of making a bunch of ads.  I'm trying to decide how to take care of making a listing.  I don't know if I should take a bunch of pictures, then make one ad for each area .. and eBay.. I've considered, but upon researching fees and all the time I'd have to spend listing things, it doesn't seem worth the effort.  The things I have to sell are worth money and the sale of these things would be reinvested back into my home.  I've sorted through so many things and given away and donated tons.  I've had people suggest I have a yard sale, and that just makes me angry at the idea.  People that yard sale do not come to buy large furniture, antiques and collectibles from someone that knows what they are selling.  People with high priced items tend to have to lug all that stuff back inside, or in frustration, sell it for nothing.  I plan to do neither.  I have to do something though.

That's just it, I have to do it all.  My family has a hard time understanding how all of this stays up and going and just how much time it takes to really keep all the computers going .. as well as the rest of the household.  I don't have friends in the same neighborhood that have all the same interests and hobbies as I do, so finding conversationalists on these topics is proving difficult.  I'm not complaining, but blogging about it helps put things in perspective.  I take each thing and work on it and whittle away at the whole thing.

I'm getting there.  Slowly.

Find and Found: I'm Lost in Space but have a Telescope

Finding things on the Internet used to be much easier than it feels right now. Forums take so much time I don't have to sort through. I'm looking for people that own telescopes locally (in my town) and want to teach me something without any other agenda. I'm afraid the task is overwhelming me. Finding a friend to get mosquito bitten with around here seems a lost cause because its for love of a hobby, and booty is not in the equation.

I own a Celestron Nexstar 130 SLT and I have let other tasks allow it to slip on the back burner, and learning on my own is taking way too long to perfect when I know someone out there could simplify many aspects of setting it up and answer all the noob questions I have. Craigslist is not an answer (as of yet) *sigh*

And I want to make friends, not pay someone.  However, the two sometimes go hand in hand.

I will find the answer,  I optimistically think .. because I found solutions when it came to saltwater reef rescue during the time I had foot surgery.  I am so glad I began to search for a professional whose services save me time, money and stress.

I found http://www.secretreef.com/ and Mr. Michael Montogomery took all the pain and worry out of caring for my aquarium, at a great price and with a sparkling personality.  My hardwood floors are safe, all my corals are alive and the tank is thriving.  And what a neat friend.  {The picture of the shrimp was Michael's solution to a explosion of hitchhiker starfish.  And after he eats them all, I'm going to give him back.}

My Harlequin Shrimp 

So I guess I need to view success in astronomy fact finding will be measured in the amount of research time I devote to the topic.

Sounds so serious when I review ... when the pinball machine in my head pings:

I'll bet you haven't blogged about banjos yet.  (ping)  Nope.

Said anything about Moss Gardening? (ping) No Way.

How about going back to school? (ping) Nada

ping!

In the Clear

I just opened my final letter for payment on my college loans.  I finally did it really.  I earned it completely now.  What a sense of accomplishment!  I Did it! ME!  A long time ago.  Thanks East Carolina, for the memories.

East Carolina University Homepage



Not Just a Picture on the Wall - My Bachelor's Degree



Sailor Suit: Pirate Gone HA

Pirate Stripes.

I miss my husband.  I'm still sick.

Somehow, though, dress up still works.

No matter how old you may be.

Or may not be.

The big question huh?

 

My Doctor the Pirate: Swabbing

So I was supposed to headed to Bryson City this weekend, but complications with me as a 'system' decided otherwise for me.

I can't say that I'm too terribly upset.. I have the whole house to myself for a couple of days.  MAKE a note of it because I rarely have this event.

However, having issues that cramp my lifestyle on other levels made me stay home and take the high road to the doctor.

Providence would have it that I was able to see my actual doctor and not settle for someone else in the practice.  I would have gone to the weekend walk in clinic they offer before seeing a particular worm today.

Anyway, my doctor specializes in women's studies, so not only is he my family doctor, but my OB as well.  I was sick a couple of weeks ago and he prescribed some new allergy medicine along with heavy antibiotics.

Long story short, the side effects from the new nasal treatment he gave me were not cool.  No one likes to wake up with serial killer pillow.  I did.  Twice.  Freak out and panic at the disco.  That stuff literally dried me up so bad my nose bled in my sleep.

Then there's yeast.  OMG.  Nothing cramps a love life like feeling like you might just levitate spontaneously at any moment.  And the thing was, I had Diflucan (grease cramps one's style too) and that didn't seem to help anything.

I woke up this morning with a fever, a knot in my neck and swallowing was agony.  I freaked out praying I didn't have thrush.

You might be thinking drama queen, but anything that sets off my body's pH .. leads to some sort of bodily reaction.  I can't be too careful with anything.  So I eat a lot of yogurt and usually life is good.

Getting to the point, I went in and for the second time on record, actually registered a fever (which I never do).

Doctor decides to test me for strep, thrush and my OB concerns.  He comes back with the nurse my husband is scared of (lol, she stinks at drawing blood)... anyway...

He became a pirate when he did the 'Slide to the end of the table' routine and his nurse told me to open wide.  People, no one should have to have a swab in two orifices at once.  So here I am gagging for the nurse while the Captain and his swab are below deck.

Ten minutes later he says:  No yeast.  No bacteria.  No strep.  But just in case, he's a week of fluconazole.  Stop taking the nasal spray.  You probably have a viral infection and should feel better in a couple of days, so take it easy.

Arrrrrg Mr. Captain.

ME:  "I hate you!"

Doctor:  "I'm sorry" (red faced and eyes twinkling)

ME:  "NO YOU ARE NOT!!!"

I could hear his laughter all the way in reception.

Dollars and Sense: I'm glad I found the way

My husband gave me the paper from our mortgage company that declared we own our dream.  My house is paid for.  The money my husband had been putting towards our mortgage he now puts into a savings that is four months old.  He gave me the paper because he knew things like that mean something to me.

I cried and hugged him and then still in his arms, thanked him.  We own my first dream.  My husband made my first dream a reality when we simply moved into this home.  I wanted my own home, hummingbirds and a garden.  Tearfully, I can say someone did that for me.

My husband said we did it.  I know we did, but I told him that I still appreciate the man that got up each day and successfully ran his own business and how much that meant to me.

My husband taught me everything I know about finances.  I don't know how I got through life without someone really sitting down and showing me the ropes of money.  My parents didn't.  It took meeting the right person to show me some practical notions about life.

This year my college loans will be paid off.  And I am proud.  My car is paid for, again my husband and I both pat each other's back about our first Luxury car.  We didn't plan on getting Betty when we did, but I went 38 years without a single accident, and then walked away from my Impala without a single scratch on me.  I over-corrected on a curvy road, lost control and ended up rolling my car.  What is more amazing was the insurance adjuster, and my first new car I totaled still ended up getting the maximum amount to put towards Betty.  My almost five year old car was in perfect condition and my husband was proud of me for that.  I endeavor to do the same with my Buick, except maybe not have another moment with OnStar.  For those of you that wonder.. I am so grateful to the people at www.onstar.com for being there to save the day.

I rolled in this Impala and nobody but the car was hurt.

I'm getting to more things I've learned over the years.  I've been taught to never carry a balance on a credit card and to pay it off each month.  My husband told me it makes no sense to put money in a savings while paying interest on debt.  He's right of course.  He doesn't believe in check cards, but I had to say I have one, but monitor things much closer than he does.

We differ in checkbook balance.  I balance to the very penny.  He rounds to the next dollar.  We stopped messing each other's paperwork up a long time ago.  However, I've turned into the savings queen.

I use U-Promise if I online shop, and have it linked to an online savings account.  I also have the credit card for those extra dollars and cents.  I fill out surveys for money through www.upromise.com  I also utilize the work I already do emptying my inbox through another survey website that pays you just to open emails.  They are pennies, but hey, it seems they are mine.

But time makes a person lax.. and that' what I've been.  So I'm loaning myself from savings to pay everything off and just sat here and figured up when I'd have my accounts straight and my savings paid back.  By fall all will even keel, and I am writing about it kind of as a promise to myself to not forget all I've learned in pursuit of a deal.

I went from no credit to Excellent credit.  I can buy my own home if I wanted.  But in one stupid decision, could screw that up.  The bar is high these days and there is no room for error.

My family must come up with a new dream.  I tell my husband that when we decide to find that retirement home, I'm bringing my front door.  And I mean it. 

Busted by Mom

My husband and I tried for romance this evening on the deck.  I just walked outside freshly primped for romance on our hammock...

*robe- drop*

*voice*

John- that sounds like your mother.

It was.  She opened her window and yelled out 'Did you know the shop lights were on?'

John pulls PJ pants back over .. stuff and things..

And since I was Maverick and Drinking Grey Goose... I said.

'John' Why didn't you have your dick out?

This would have been perfect!?

Do you think we went inside?  Nope. 

We giggled like insane teenagers .. that got old .. and we went back to doing ... our thing .. (um.)

Afterwards we both decided it was a good thing for her to look over our privacy fence and see that not only are we the parents of the coolest kid on the planet.

We love each other, and Romance one another.. and oh yeah...

We fuck too.

And well, you had to look.

HAHAHAHHAHAHA

Sharing Deep Thoughts and Words

I have a dear friend, who shared a piece of reality in the horrors of 'US Drone Terrorism', and I was moved me to write him a letter.  I am sharing this letter in my blog because I passionately believe in the goodness of others and the intentions of what he shared with me were meant to open my eyes and heart.  I rejoice in knowing this man, because in doing so ... we share the small victory of overcoming world statistics and stereotypical narrow-mindedness.

I have no words that convey all the different emotions that bombarded me as I looked into a waking nightmare.  You see, my nightmares are never about monsters.  My nightmares are people, and what they can do.  I could not stop watching that video... but I shook.. and cried... and felt helpless.. and angry... and hopeless.

Then putting myself into the shoes of the person who sent me this glimpse .. I have remained wondering how he feels.  I wanted to comfort my friend, whom to me, is just that, my friend.  How could he want to even talk to me?  Even be my friend?  I come from NC... I'm an American.

But I never think of myself that way when I make friends.  I'm just Faye.  Just me.  And my friend is from Pakistan.  And he is just Himself.  What I'm trying to say is that where he lives has never been who he was to me.  A few weeks ago, I was sharing how wonderful he was with another online friend from Georgia.  My friend from GA gave me a huge lecture on foreign people.  I was pretty livid with my GA friend, who had no business telling me how to pick friends.  I defended my friend from Pakistan and cut Mr. GA off from further lecture on things he may be out of touch with.

This is what I believe many people are out of touch with.  People are out of touch with what is good and what is bad.  Evil is evil, no matter who commits the act.  Race, ethnicity, nationality nor religion are not on the resume of EVIL.  Evil is committed every single day, by people everywhere.  The problem is owning up to EVIL and admitting its existence.  Loyalty has no place in seeing truth, and omission of guilt makes a person part of the act.  What I wanted to tell my friend from Pakistan is the truth that is so ugly.  Although I am far removed from the act, I am part responsible because I vote, and my vote helped put people in power in my government.. and those people are committing acts of EVIL.  I feel ashamed and ugly.  All I can do is say that I see it and acknowledge part of it is my fault.

Feeling Compelled to type this opened me up to new resolve.  That resolve is to research and choose wisely.  However, I want to say I will still look at the world the way I do, and see people and differences for what they are .. beautiful enigmas.  Wonderful conversations.  The start of great learning milestones.  I will never lose my curiosity and love for other people and desire to know how they live and how they relate to me.  I find the subject fascinating.  I will keep on being fearless and being myself.  I will also keep my sense of dignity and respect for others.  I want to learn, so that I may raise my daughter to be more than the sum of her parts. 

I wish NC, USA were just a geographical location and that Pakistan was simply another.  That's what it should be.  We are all people.  We live.  We love.  We want happiness and success.  We dream big dreams.  We all worry and cry.  We all have parents and family.

 

This is what I wanted to say to my friend in Pakistan honestly and openly.  And remark joyously about our friendship. And say how people should make note of us because we are a good example of many things the world stereotypes and labels. We prove them wrong.  No one is going to tell me he is bad, based on thoughts and acts he had no part in... which to further the point... means there are a million other good people like him in Pakistan too.  And I hope he looks at NC that way because NE person heard, and agrees with what is right and sees the wrong.

 

I wish more people took the time to know what they judge.  They say one person can't change the world.. I have news for them.  That is not true.  This media changed my world.  My eyes are a little wider.  And that I will pass on to my child, who is the world to me.

 

May this letter comfort light a small candle of hope in Pakistan for my friend..

This is paraphrase.. but worth sharing in the light of opening doors..

But even I admit I'm afraid of getting fingers slammed... truth hurts.  I'd rather hurt than be numb. 
*sigh**wave*
World Peace
One person at a time...

Mind Bomb: Its not that Musical on the Hill

I have spent the day talking emotional subjects with a dear friend who is close to me.  And strangely that statement in itself is a trainwreck.  He lives in Georgia.  I've known him for a long time, I met him blogging.  Funny thing is, we became friends over words.  His exact message to me:  'You spelled paraphrenalia correctly.  I think I love you.'  And we ruled chatting for a long time.  Then we called each other.  Praise everything I met GiGi.  He saved my husband's life and quite possibly my marriage.  How cool a person is that?  One that I have never met, know all his family's history and its never boring.  Parenting, Books, Philosphy, Trivia, Aging... all on conversations that just galvanize me still.  All my friends have said Hi to my GiGi.  John, Nattie..sisters, cousins, friends... because that's how I am.  It takes a strange person to be friends with a bug like me.  Being Big Magic has  become a journey for me.. I draw lines.  I don't accept.  I do tell.  I say NO.  Firmly.  Up front, and well Gigi is the only person to brave it all.  I count on Gigi.  He matters.  He's been married for over 30 years.  That is so incredible.  *the hills are alive with the sound of music* I can't help if you cringe in disgust because I believe in *Doe, a Deer?*  Gigi please absorb the awe and let me ignore the whole disclaimer of what there is and what I imagine not existing somehow! *bright paper packages tied up with strings*  ~I suddenly stop clutching drapes~ 

THAT was some revelry.  Not just make believe.  [My mother bought me the Bradford Exchange plate of Julie Andrews]

I stomp around huffing.  Typing this in a huff happens to make quite the empathic clatter.

GIGI*  how can you not see your greatest adventure is sitting in his very home waiting to be rediscovered... his wife.

I ask him when was the last time he kissed his wife with tongues.  Or when was the last time he fondled anything?  Or Ogled her?

I made my friend blush and stammer and I was not trying to embarrass him.  I was serious.

I told him I would hound him until he did so, because I could not and would not believe he was dead, based on factual knowledge of who he was and of men in general..

May my husband kiss me with tongue in his late 60s, may he ogle and fondle.

Because I didn't think men had just as many mid life crisis as women did, but apparently, they do.

I refuse to think I'm going to shrivel up and die and give in to the fact I'm going to be an old shoe.  Being an old shoe is a state of mind, and I will not let my husband become something in my way.

I'm in love.

And intend to stay that way.

with Tongues.

Figuring Out What to Put Out there Now

I love it, some things are finally sorta, kinda making sense.  Or I am making things work within the machine without anything but trial and error.

So for now I am going to be happy with figuring things as being ass backwards and redundant.

It takes much effort to get a voice recording from my Samsung phone into dropbox, then convert out of dropbox to an mp3 file, then another upload into the soundcloud.

And the soundcloud seems a limiting thing because I only know how to plug it into one page.

I was way too happy I figured out how to link within my own damn blog....

its the little things I guess.

I digress.

And think of how I'm going to keep track of making it better, or better yet, moving it somewhere and making it mine.

Without blowing up something.

Finding Something Useful Sideways

My Samsung Phone annoys me with saving every Google Album that ever was ...

But it helped me figure out how to put a cute slideshow on my blog..

The next thing will be how to update it without messing it up.

Ha!

This took five minutes to figure out.

The how not to mess it up part should include a stopwatch...

Now if I could just get my voice thing to work like that damned slideshow, except each recording pull up an entry ..

I'm not sure if that is a 'page' thing or a 'link' deal.

But I don't care.

To the small victories.

Getting Things Done ≧ Or Not

The luxury of blogging hits at strange times, but I wish I made more time to comment on the status quo of my world... however... this video from... Madagascar 2 (which does not belong to me, so thank you DreamWorks) is almost like an excerpt from the peanut gallery in my head..



I've made it through the list of things that must be done in the world or chaos will rain upon me... I think.  I made it though my sister's wedding.  I am still standing, walking, talking and breathing.  However, all the great things I thought family connections seems a bit lackluster.  I feel like a child navigating in all those situations.  Then again, I get the notion my standards may be a bit too high.. I let those feelings pass... otherwise I will have to can the idea that I am an optimist.

So now my child is out of school.  We have gymnastics booked.  Two days a week of daycare, so I can pursue getting housework done.  Then we've also found a teacher that will combine banjo and voice lessons.. (now I must find a banjo).

Family time seems to be getting more productive and involves both husband and child.  I don't feel as lonely.

I'm still waiting on the whole figuring out how to handle family, right now, I am still comparing the idea with snake handling.

I have the problem of my missing ring down to the consensus that I have to file a police report.  Its depressing, but must be done.

Then the whole ball of wax concerning me admitting I'm a grown up... and that I may have stepped in a pile of steaming poo.  My options are limited and I'm all out of ideas when it comes to dealing with a potential douche-bag.  The pile of poo is the fact I may have to resort to calling them the douche-bag and wipe off my shoe and pretend I don't care.

But hey, if I can understand the crap sandwich theory.. the steaming pile should be no problem..

Right.  Just make sure those monkeys have those 1099 forms Faye.  It's been a lean year.

The One in Every Family

I had to call the higher pecking order family members to freak out about a cousin. She posted a half empty beer bottle in what appears to be a kid hand. I don't care whose hand it is, my family will flip.

Standard case of: stupidity in motion

I barely know the person, but boy, its hopefully not going to be more than me busting a gasket.

 

OK, so I had to read this myself and think:  people are scratching and wondering what's the big deal?

 

So I will expand upon this posting:

 

When I saw that beer bottle I had a few feelings, then horrible scenarios flash through my brain.  First:  The parent in me was pissed off and wanted to start bellowing.

Second:  The 'Holy Crap that person is family!' made me feel ashamed to know I share genetic code with them.

Third:  After recovering from shame, the fail-safe breaker was flipped:  'This idiot could hurt my Mom!' and the: "You don't Fuck with my Mom" button went off (everybody has this button)

Fourth:  Indecision of which family member to call to quietly squash the incident without collateral damage made anxiety levels climb to undiscovered heights

Fifth:  All the caring about people I barely know really pissed me off again.  I calmed myself by reasoning that this was not being a busy-body, and that honestly I only worried my Mom would suffer from this.  From there, imagination took over so motivate me into doing something. 

 

Summary  How Mom finds out/ worst case scenario (person to call decision made):

 

Someone saw the picture, and sent it to twitter.  The picture went viral.  Police were sent.  Public outrage was huge.  I find this all out by opening yahoo news.

 

Then find video of my mom cleaning up the mess and other family members being idiots slandering one another.

 

Leading to Dr. Phil deciding to lend his wisdom to the gold-diggers of my family, who jump at the chance to show IQ.

 

Terribly big imagination I have (and ego too).. but it boils down to thinking of my Mom and how much she carries on her shoulders.  I may not have a great understanding of her inner workings, but, she is so depressed and sad ... and strong .. and the thought of me not doing something seems to make me an accessory.  I felt like letting that picture stay there meant I had no family loyalty or even cared about the big picture of familial bonds.  My Mom is a staunch defender of our family and hates alcohol and what it does to families.  My mom does not have any social media pages and does not like them, so honestly, backlash would come out of nowhere.  Whether it be from distant family or the world.

 

How did this end?

 

I called my sister, who said I did the right thing, but they all took it wrong.  The cousin acted like my sister was making drama because she didn't go to the wedding.

 

I wanted to scream:  THE PICTURE WAS THE DRAMA.

 

My sister got the crap end of a stick and I volunteered to call but she said to leave it alone.

I really wish I could have called my family to defend my sister.

 

It seems terribly complicated and scary, but the imagination for motivation worked partially.  Disaster averted.  Mom safe.

 

Score another point for misunderstood daughters that love their complicated Moms.

Voice Test Run

Ok, not my funniest, but I think I'm figuring some things out....
This goes to my voice page within this blog

Researching Tools

My best medium is voice recorded.  I'm trying to find the easiest way to play my voice recordings within a blog post and why does it seem like rocket science?

Because it is a science.

SEO?

(Succubus Everyone Obeys)

Boredom and I'm A Long Way From Home

I grew tired off reading FB and decided to try to blog in the car. Why did I get so bored? I realized how maybe not reading other people's blurbs is a good thing.  I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the logic there are more Mercedes and BMWs in GA than in NC. I wanted to scream turn north and count in Raleigh and Durham because they are located in this state Kat time I checked.okay plus I find no shortage where I live either, but ok.

I then had to find out if John was important, and did he get a nephew call about laws. I'm proud of the idea, just not delivery. Made me momentarily think I didn't care. The moment passed.

Then my sister is chummy with a cousin she damned me for associating with a few years ago. Family ties only do that: tie.

Detecting a little bitterness? Well I am the family tart..so I hear.

Doctor's Note and My Sister's Wedding

OK people, I don't talk much about the people I supposedly share genetic code with because frankly, just the thought makes bile rise to the point I realize I need to spit.  Deep thought and I'm wishing I could find a proverbial toilet to hug because they make me so anxious I could ruin perfectly innocent people's shoes.

Here's the scoop.

My sister who is getting married in a week pretty much called me two months ago to invite me to her wedding.  Which morphed into being in her wedding, which morphed into having to deal with my mom.  So, I have to suck it up, call my Mom and about throw up speaking to her I'm so scared she's going to reach through the phone and somehow magically kill me.  For what?  Nothing really.  Except for the fact she pretty much thinks I suck as a person and she's entitled to tell me that, know my net worth, run my life, curse at me and the list goes on and I'd like to think I've gotten over all that.  Obviously not. I love my mother, people.  How to love a poisonous object in human form is a scary thing.

Showing Less can Actually Be More

I proved to my seven year old daughter who has an obsession with two piece bathing suits that a one piece can turn just as many heads, if not more when the person in the bathing suit is a lady.

I am kinda giddy from the high my daughter just gave me.  She remembered the talk when we bought bathing suits, and actually counted the people that stared at her mom when she came down to the swimming pool.  The actual count was men.  She said all the women that looked hated me on sight and didn't count. (What mom would not love this kid?)

The point of this blog is that my daughter understood that my one piece bathing suit made me more attractive and was flattering, and in a world of high class sluts in Hilton Head, I stood out.  I didn't look like an old lady, nor a prude.  I just looked good.  Without showing my stomach or tits to the world.  And my kid got it.

In your face statistics and Cosmo.

My kid trumped you all.

In her one piece bathing suit.

She's proud of.

Knock-off Versions that People 'Buy'

I have long stated I don't do much on the FB crowd, but I was sorting through my senior group page and had to take a deep breathe because I found out somebody that made a difference in my life died and I didn't know.  His death was in 2011.  He was my principal in High School.

I feel so angry reading comments people wrote about him.  They have no idea how much 'missing him and how enthusiastic he always was' simply disgusted me in cliché shallowness.

These people that are my age now wouldn't understand my anger or outrage because they don't know me.  What they do know they simply looked the other way, judged and pretty much wrote off as teenage liability. 

I was emancipated from my parents in 1990.  My principal took on my mother, and defended me when he could and in court wrote a letter on my behalf to the judge.

I graduated high school alone.  No family. No friends. Only proud teachers and of course my principal.  Even they had to keep their distance.  I was a straight A student whose first job was being a bagger at Winn-Dixie, that went to school, lived in a few not good places and worked 30 hours a week at Shoney's.  I still graduated and received a full scholarship, but that final year wasn't sterling.  Sometimes I don't believe it happened.  But it did. 

I left home in my uniform from Winn Dixie, my Mom got me fired.  I had to wash the same pair of underwear every night for a week and wear the same clothes to school. I still went to school to be safe and because I wanted to graduate.  I felt like everyone thought it was me.  I was the problem.

Not my principal.  I still have his letter.  I still have all my teacher's letters.  They didn't save me, I saved myself, but without them, no judge would have given me my freedom having no home, but I got it.

Mr. Terrel cared about me and whenever he could he always made those snot nosed kids stop hurting me with words.  I never told anyone at school about my home life.  So they just pushed and pushed.

These people probably think that was a phase for them and now they are grown up.  The past is gone.  That's true.  It's behind me.  I feel bad for not knowing he died until now, but I know he knew I appreciated him and what he did.

The point of this is merely a melancholy one... I'm a parent.  I raise my daughter to care.  To see with wide eyes.  To have empathy.  To love.  And I don't use the word Bully except to describe people that use violence.  It's pecking order.  It's popularity.  It's because they can.  I teach her skills to see people coming and anticipate who and what they bring with them to school.  She's only seven, but she listens.

Reading FB made cobweb memories come back.  Some good most bad... and then I think of now... and kids... theirs...I have no enthusiasm for inquiring about my classmates' children.  Case in point: this is what is wrong with our society.

Nobody that's anybody would say they had any part in judging me or how my life at 17 was and everyone else simply would nod in agreement.

How sad.  Not for me.  Children are a distillation of two people... so .. its mind boggling how detached a couple generations from now will be... and how 'blameless'.

The Title is what it means:

People are eager to Buy a cheaper version of an ideal.  They can't afford the real thing because it costs too much... they might have to care.