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.