My name is Glenna. I’m not an alcoholic.

It’s weird to say that.  I spent many years in AA meetings saying the opposite. 

I stopped drinking at age 16 and maintained my sobriety until my mid-40’s. 

I entered Heartview Treatment Center when I was 16.  I’d been a binge drinker.  I remember (sort of) my last big hurrah.  Some classmates and I skipped out of school and went to a friend’s house to drink.  I recall drinking some hard liquor out of those tall metal glasses some folks used to have.  They curved out at the lip and were colored?  They were super cold to the touch and looked rather pretty with the condensation running down the sides.  But I digress.  I ingested a lot of booze that day.  Couldn’t tell you how much.  It was a long damn time ago! 

Then we went driving around.  More proof that teenagers are brilliant and should be allowed to make decisions for themselves. 

I was a passenger.  The world was fuzzy.  We went to the arcade next to Century High School, the school I’d been attending since my Mom had gotten remarried.  (To a man I loathed but that’s another story.)  I was a sophomore. 

Anyway, at the arcade I recall that I was shooting pool and some smart ass guy decided to get friendly with my backside with a pool cue when I was bending over so I spun around and tried to cold cock him upside the head with my cue and fell into a pile of stacked chairs.  Then I staggered into the bathroom to throw up.  There's another semi-long story about this but I'm going to skip it.  This is going to be a long post as it is.

I wandered over to the school for a ride home on the bus but I’d missed the bus.  The place we lived was maybe a mile or so north of Century if I hiked across the fields.  It was winter and lots of snow on the ground.  I’d been wearing clogs that day and they wouldn’t stay on my feet so I hiked part of the way thru the snow in the fields in my stocking feet.  I discussed this post recently with my sister and Dad and she gave me a good replica of our mother's "look" over that one.  Things were fuzzy so I couldn’t say how much of the hike was made in stocking feet but no frostbite at least.

I made it home and things get really fuzzy from this point…I think I was trying to make some toast and my siblings decided they had to get my downstairs to hide my drunken ass from Mom and Dennis (pig/step-dad).  I think I threatened my sister with a knife.  She doesn't recall that but I have a recollection of us in the basement...she was by the stairs and I was near my room so at least I wasn't in her face.  I carried a knife back then.  It even had a name.  My siblings will know exactly what I'm talking about.  It was a semi-pussy knife since it wasn't a switchblade but it was long and had a point and people never seemed to notice that I carried it in my back pocket.  I wasn’t the sweetest tempered kid walking the planet. 

After that I really couldn’t say what happened.  I had a blackout.  My Mom told me later that she and Dennis took turns keeping a vigil to keep me out of the knife drawer.  

Did I mention I was a troubled kid with some issues?

All this went over like a ton of lead with my Mom.  Can’t say as I blamed her one bit BUT when she and Dennis and some other guy sat me down and told me they were checking me into Heartview Treatment Center I went into a cold rage.  I think it was some sort of an intervention though I had no say in anything.   In reality the extra guy was so that they'd have grown men on either side of me in the back seat, to stop me from bolting out of the car on the way to the jitter joint.  

I did 6 weeks in Heartview.  It was an awakening. 

In Heartview my horizons expanded.  I got counseling.  I began to examine my life and the things that made me tick and started to become self aware in a way I never had before.   I realized my life could be different.

I made friends that WEREN’T in high school.  Adults, people from other states and countries. (well Canada, but still…)  People that I respected, who were impressed with me and told me so.  My life up to that point hadn’t had much of that.  I was something of a misfit in school.  I was awkward, an introvert and I had a major chip on my shoulder so I wasn’t exactly an approachable person.  I was failing to live up to the expectations of my family.   Having all these new people in my life who thought highly of me really changed how I saw myself.  My confidence and self esteem rose dramatically.

Heartview was good for me.  REALLY good for me!  It was probably the most important thing that ever happened to me. 

Before Heartview I didn’t expect to live past the age of 18.  Don’t ask me why but I really didn’t.  

Before Heartview I was a kid who was headed down a bad road.  I can't imagine where I’d be today if not for that intervention.   It completely changed the direction of my life.  I’m not exaggerating in the slightest on this point either.  I give that place credit for the fact that I am now a reasonably sensible, responsible adult who contributes to society, pays her taxes and values her family above all else. 

For the next almost 30 years I didn’t touch a drop.  Well except for once.   New Year’s Eve, the year 2000.  I had 2 sips of champagne at the comedy club my husband Mike and I had gone to for the evening.  I wanted to be like everyone else for the changing of the century. 

After that I wondered why I didn’t care if I drank again.  Because I didn’t.  I'd thought I would want to drink.  Instead I felt "meh" about the whole thing.  I felt no pull towards the booze.  I thought it was strange but I liked my life as it was so decided it didn’t matter and went on with it.

Years later, after Mike and I had divorced, Ben, my youngest, was grown but still living at home, I went thru what I think of as a serious mid-life, semi-empty nest crisis.  I was in my mid-40’s. 

I didn’t know who I was anymore since I didn’t need to be Mom/provider/teacher to my kids as I had been previously.  My identity had been so tied up in setting an example and taking care of them for so long that I became lost when that role basically disappeared.  I had done my job well and they were self sufficient people, going out and living their own lives and making their own decisions.  Now I was just me and I wasn’t really sure what the purpose was in that.

I had another key moment during this time frame when I was hanging out with my friend Cheryl, whom I’ve known since kindergarten.  We were talking and she said how she always wondered if I was really an alcoholic and I admitted I’d wondered about that too sometimes because I’d never felt it difficult to put a cork in the bottle, so to speak.  I’d hear people talk about how hard it was to resist drinking but I never felt that way.  Anyway, she mentioned how she’d felt bad not inviting me to various get togethers because there would be booze there and she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable. 

I remember going home that night thinking about that.  Thinking about being an outsider.  I always have been in many ways but that was another one.  I didn’t drink.  After almost 30 years of sobriety, trust me, I knew I was different and that most drinkers never did seem to feel comfy around someone who didn’t join in.  They’d prefer I wasn’t around.  I was a drag to them.  They thought I was judging them.  Since I wasn’t all that crazy about dealing with drunk ass people I tended to agree.  At the same time, I admitted I was tired of being an outsider in so many ways. 

In fact I just read an article on this subject!  Click this link if you want to read it yourself.  http://www.cracked.com/blog/4-harmless-personality-traits-were-all-embarrassed-about_p2/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=fanpage&utm_campaign=new+article&wa_ibsrc=fanpage

These 4 harmless personality traits we’re all embarrassed about are summarized as follows:

1. Not Drinking
2. Not liking spicy food
3. Not wanting to talk about sex
4. Loneliness

Here is the section on Not Drinking (by C. Coville)

#1. Not Drinking

People in today's society enjoy social activities that our ancestors would never have dreamed of. If you tell people you spent last Saturday night at a gay bar, that's cool with everyone. Even if you tell people that it was a gay bar for people who enjoy The Walking Dead, most people will still be on board. But if you were at that gay bar and you weren't drinking? That's getting kind of weird, dude. Any long-term non-drinker will tell you that informing people of one's teetotaling habits in a bar is often received as well as a yarmulke at an ISIS party. After all, you're in a bar. Why else would anyone go to a bar if not to drink? To talk to other people? Ha!

I think non-drinkers get this reaction because they make the people around them feel guilty. Your average drinker is out somewhere to relax and intoxicate himself, and then all of a sudden there's a non-drinker in his face, gearing up (he assumes) to silently judge his deteriorating drunken antics with a non-drunk, terrifyingly clear brain. There's a good chance that this drinker had already started imbibing when his friend declined a drink, which means his inhibitions are lowered, and the little angel on his shoulder that usually slams his jaw closed when he's about to say something rude has gone off to get a gin and tonic. So instead of simply saying "Oh" and changing the subject to how much he hates The Walking Dead like a normal person, he'll instead try to push alcohol on the non-drinker like the bad guy in a high school PSA.

And it's not like the non-drinker can always just explain their reasons for not consuming alcohol. Not everyone wants to talk about personal issues with people they don't know that well, especially if they involve something serious like a history of addiction or a medical problem. Talking about that stuff is difficult at the best of times, and it's a billion times more so when you're surrounded by uninhibited drunk people. Non-drinkers have not only been cursed with a preference that attracts the opinions of insecure assholes, and they've been cursed with a preference that almost exclusively comes up in the environment most conducive to those people being assholes. It's enough to drive you to ... glare really hard at people over your glass of diet soda, I guess.

See?  I’m not making this up!  It’s even written about and I know exactly what this writer is talking about!

By this time I hadn’t attended an AA meeting in maybe 20 years.  Pretty much since I’d moved to MN.  I didn’t feel like I fit in anymore.  I tried going a few times because I felt like I should and I’d listen to the stories but they didn’t fit me.  I wasn’t connecting.  I wasn’t having trouble resisting the drink.  I simply wasn’t having the issues they were.  I was quite self aware and in control of my life.  Well…as much control as any person can have when raising 3 independent, energetic, occasionally bratty kids.  For the most part, things were going pretty smoothly.   There wasn't a lot of drama.

Over the years, the legs were being knocked out of the theories that had “proven” I was an alcoholic from a family of addicts.  My other family members still drank a bit but certainly weren’t acting like addicts.  They had gotten a grip on their own demons and left the abusive behavior behind them.

I remember when I finally decided to try having a drink. 

I remember that I’d bought a Mike’s Hard Lemonade 6 pack at the grocery store.  I didn’t know any better!  I started soft. 

Anyway, I sat there for the longest time debating if I really wanted to change a lifestyle of almost 30 years of not drinking.  It was part of my identity…this not drinking.  I sat a long time.  What tipped me over the edge?   I needed to know the truth.  I was ready to take the risk to find out the truth.  Was I really an alcoholic?  I didn’t feel like I fit that.  I hadn’t felt like I fit that description for a very long time. 

Then I did it.  Took that drink.  And then thought, well, that was anti-climactic.  And it was. 

It’s been a few years since that moment.  Life has gone on without any major upheavals.  Now it’s a nice addition to my life and while I enjoy a drink now and again, I don’t drink much because it’s fattening, expensive and mostly because I’m usually not in the mood to.  I'm very aware of how it can go wrong and also very aware that self medicating is an utterly pointless endeavor.

This brings me to the crux of the issue I wanted to write about. 

It has been difficult for me to admit that I drink.  Not because of shame but because, during my years in AA they talked about how there was no cure.  I agree with that.  I wasn’t cured.  I was never an alcoholic.

Problem is, by admitting all this, I’m a threat to recovering addicts.  I don’t want to be but I am. 

I was misdiagnosed.  I was a troubled kid who abused alcohol but I'm not an alcoholic. 

On the one hand, I’m very glad for the misdiagnosis because walking away from self medication and getting counseling was vital for me to change my life and live it in a better way.  It enabled me to be the best Mom I could be to my kids and to raise them with a clear head.  I learned to cope with life without using booze for a crutch.  I came to grips with the troubles of my past and learned to find the upside to all of it.  There was actually a HUGE upside!  I learned to enjoy life without alcohol.  I’ve spent most of my adult life NOT drinking and I think that’s been a very good thing for me. 

I have no regrets about the misdiagnosis.  It made my life better than it would have been. 

On the other hand, the people who’ve thought of me as an alcoholic for all these years have struggled somewhat with the change.  My Mother gives me the “look” when I’d have a beer with my brother in law at a family get together.  Not so much anymore at least but I tend not to have a beer in front of her anymore just to save her and myself the discomfort. 

I did recently admit this to a relative who has been in recovery for years and they promptly unfriended me on Facebook.  A close relative that I had a close childhood relationship with!  It was hurtful but I have to acknowledge that I am a threat to their sobriety and that’s more important than my hurt feelings.

If I’d mention having a drink on Facebook, some of my friends would comment that they were sorry to hear that.  Like, by having that drink, I was ruining my life.  Trust me, got the subtext.

I, myself, have felt leery about admitting it because I’ve been afraid some of my old friends or people I know who are in recovery that I don’t even know about, might think they should try drinking/using because of my story and possibly meet with disaster.   I’d hate to give someone who is an addict the idea that they should use again and it’ll be ok.  It might not be! 

I guess I'll put a challenge out on this thought.  If you think this is some sort of loophole then I'd say you have to do like I did and stay sober for AT LEAST 29-30 years, to learn how to live without chemicals to cope and THEN decide if it's worth it to take the risk.  29-30 years.  That's a long time to learn how to live with a clear head.  It will change you.  It's what I did.  I don't think I was an addict to start with but if you want to use my story as an excuse then REALLY use it.  Don't be a pussy...stay sober for 29-30 years.  

I have hidden my drinking, not from shame, but partially from worry about its potential negative impact on others and partially because I have not wanted people to worry about me or think badly of me after all the years of them thinking of me as a recovering alcoholic. 

I have fallen off the proverbial wagon but it’s been more like stepping off a curb.  The landing has been low impact.  Except for some of the folks that have known me all these years.  That has sometimes been rocky. 

It’s not easy to change.  There can be a cost to it.  It can hurt.  In the end, despite the alienation of at least one relative, I can’t say I regret it.  I’ve learned more about the truth of myself.  I saw myself a certain way for almost 30 years and then found out that part of what I thought was wrong. 

In the end it wasn’t as traumatic as I thought it might be.  What I had gained from the error was too vast to have any regret.  While I learned that I hadn’t belonged in some of the places I’d been…not really…I remain grateful for the error because they had made such a positive impact on my life!  

I doubt I would have gotten the psychological help I desperately needed without being placed in Heartview and being in recovery.  I sorted my issues out and figured out how to live my life the way I wanted.  I learned I could be loved and accepted despite my flaws and that I could reciprocate that to others.  I learned to accept myself and even like myself.  I doubt I would have learned to work thru my personal issues and gain self awareness and self acceptance if I had continued to self medicate.  I cannot regret it.  Any of it.  It brought me here and here is good.

In the end I have to let go of my worries.  I have to accept that I can’t control others opinions.  They have a right to them.

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change”

I feel it is time to talk about it openly and let people make their own decisions about how they want to react to me and my story.  I’m not going to hide this anymore.  I’m not ashamed.

“Courage to change the things I can”

I’m 50 years old.  I have lived a good productive life and expect to continue to do so.  I have no regrets and I’m satisfied.  

In the end I inhabit my skin.  Only me.  That’s the final judge I’ll answer to on how I live my life and I’m willing to take the “hits” necessary to live life the way I see fit.  Nothing in life is free and I can live with that. 

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Crabby Monday Rant

It's Monday.  I figure that's enough reason for some complaining so here goes with the items that have annoyed me today:


HILLARY CLINTON (please go away your majesty - I'm sick of you)
I'm really sick of seeing Hillary Clinton articles EVERY day.  It's like she's waiting for the coronation again and the press is ready to hand it to her.  Whether anyone else is, that's another story.


SUCK UPS
My suck up co-workers just made me look bad again.  Unless I decided to suck up also.  Which goes against my grain.  If they'd just shut their pie holes unless it really is something special I would be happier.  As it is they seem to use any excuse to gush. 


An ongoing problem that caused repeated crashes and lack of productivity is going to be fixed.  I'm glad it's finally getting fixed!  Then the suck ups start one upping each other.  First one exclaims how excited she is.  Second says she's VERY excited.  Do I say how deliriously excited I am?  Dial tone from me.  No wonder I'm not the favored one.  I've earned it apparently.  I'll own that. 


WEEKENDS ARE TOO SHORT, WORK WEEKS ARE TOO LONG
Nuff said on that subject.


GOT HIT WITH SOME ATHEIST HATE ON FACEBOOK THIS MORNING
Pissed me off.  I prefer the term agnostic, but I am one.  This morning one of those smug little pictures that gets passed around on facebook aimed my way, accusing me of wanting to tear down crosses at the 9/11 site. 


Newsflash:  I don't care if there is a cross at the 9/11 site!  I'm guessing very few of us horrible atheists do.  There always have to be some pain in the asses but most of us probably don't spend much time on this kind of thing.


I get really sick of being generalized and demonized for my beliefs or lack thereof.  I guess I missed the memo from the other atheists about how we hate Christians and all symbols of Christianity just because we don't believe.  (need a sarcasm font)  Guess if we don't think the same, we must be evil and hateful right?  Are Christians that afraid of other ways of thinking?  Must they demonize anyone who has a different point of view?


There's a lot of hate and misinformation flying around out there, about many things, so I normally try not to take it personally but sometimes I feel like I just have to say something.  This is one of those times.


So far that's my bitches for this fine Monday.  The sun is shining and no rain in the forecast for today so it is a beautiful day!  Hopefully it will all be bliss from here!

My little helper

I have been babysitting my granddaughter Penelope today.  She is my best helper!  And she's just plain fun to hang out with.

We started out the morning in my room.  I needed to charge my phone and wanted to stay close to it because I was expecting a call from my sister about Father's Day plans for tomorrow.  I'd finished paying the bills earlier and was on-line doing puzzles while Nelly sat on my bed watching Nickleodeon.  I turned around and caught her preparing to open the house payment envelope that had been sitting on my bedside table! Little varmint was being nosy (and helpful) again.  Luckily I looked at her when I did!

I figured it would be better if I paid more attention at that point so we had some snuggle time.  I noticed how small her legs seemed compared to mine so told her to snuggle up next to me so I could take a picture of her little legs compared to my giant legs.  I was setting up for the shot, waiting for the focus to set and suddenly, her little fingers were in the shot.  Then her hand.  It was pretty much blocking the shot at that point but she likes to look at her hands thru the camera.  It's a thing!

I did get this shot tho...not side by side but you get the gist...

Then we wrestled and I said "hold your feet up!"

I may be biased but I think this kid has totally adorable feet!

Right now she's snuggled in her "furs" on my bed, watching Puss in Boots and paging thru her airplane book so I have a quiet moment to blog.

Earlier I was folding laundry.  Penelope decided I needed help.  She took some folded items, unfolded them, carefully balled them up in a wad and stacked them in a pile on the bed.  Thank you Penelope.

Then my sister called so Penelope directed me to the living room so I could sit with her in the recliner (she's bossy like her Mommy) and then wanted to be part of the call for a while.  She even said "hi" to Auntie Stacey!  For those who may not know, Penelope is a special needs child with various delays.  She says only a few words at this point but she's starting to so those little times that she speaks are a big deal in this family!  When she says "hi" we cheer!

Then lunch time.  I made her mac & cheese and PB&J sandwiches.  She likes that.  She brought toys to share our lunch with us.  Turns out she has a Hulk Hogan doll.  I didn't know that until today.  He came to join us for lunch.

It's fun having lunch with little kids!  At least this one.  There are toys to play with.

Hulk Hogan says NOOOOOOOooooooooooo!

There are random butt dances when songs come on the TV in the next room.  

There is also an amazing amount of sticky stuff everywhere.  Like the jelly on top of Penelope's nose (I was in stealth mode - she didn't know I was taking pics)

see the little blob of jelly?

She shared the stickies by touching me on the arm and on the leg.  She sprinkled mac & cheese on the floor, on her chair, on her lap, on the table.  Luckily all of this is washable!

We're watching Puss in Boots.  I was typing this thinking how they sure talk in Spanish a lot in this movie before the lightbulb in my brain turned on and I realized I had the TV set for Spanish.  Sigh.

Now she's fake snoring in the bed.  Time to go get some more snuggles!

Help, help! We're being oppressed!

I just saw another post about how parents can embarrass their children on Facebook if their kids are foolish enough to friend them.

♫ playing tiny violin of sympathy ♫

There is another side to this issue and it’s time I say something about it.

Ok, here’s the deal.  Kids suppress their parents.  We can’t be our true selves without our kids trying to shut us down. 

Let that sink in. 

You know it’s true.

I see it all the time.  One of my friends will make a post with some innuendo…being funny, having some fun, being flirty and one of their kid pops on to say “Ew, Mom” or “Ew, Dad”.

Parents are sexual beings.

GASP!! 

There!  I said it!  It cannot be undone! 

Well...I could delete it but I won’t. 

How do you think you kids happen to exist anyway?  A ton of virgin births? 

In your world, Jesus isn’t so special is he?

And some of you have kids yourselves!  You know better!  tsk-tsk!

But heaven forbid that a parent hint at having any interest in some sexy time with their partner of choice! 

Here’s another shocker.

Your grandparents had sex. 

Your great-grandparents had sex!  I could go on!

They probably had sex a lot!  Maybe even when they were in their 70’s or 80's or dare I say it, older?  Maybe!  If they did, and I hope they did, there’s hope for us all to enjoy it for a long time!   

Sigh.

Ok.  I think I’ve scarred enough young minds now. 

 

Long necklaces

Long necklaces are kind of fun because you never know what they’ll do next!

I decided to wear one today to further my shirt illusion.  I’m feeling a little like a rebel right now.  I’m wearing a shirt that has two skulls on it at work!!  I have this loose weave sweater/cover up on over it so the side of the skulls end up looking like a rather form flattering pattern on my rib cage.  

Figured I’d further dress up the deal with a long necklace!  I feel rebellious because I look rather nice wearing a skull shirt at work!  BWAHAHAHAHAHA! 

You gotta take what you can get for amusement in life right?

Well today my necklace has been busy.  I’ve worn it to work before and never noticed its shenanigans.  Today it’s been trying to wrap around my boob and/or head for the armpits.  Both sides.  Makes me wonder what the hell I’m doing to cause that? 

I learned today that it doesn't just happen to me.  This is considered a BAD necklace choice for this bust line.  I like long necklaces tho so PFFT.

I probably talk about boobs too often.  I almost didn't post this until I talked to my daughter and she asked why shouldn't I talk about boobs?  She has a point so I'm going to talk about boobs again.  Trust me, I think this works...

Boobs are an obstacle.  Things like necklaces loop around them.  They fall out of loosely worn bras at inopportune moments.  Massage chairs at malls occasionally unhook their bras and then you have to slink off to the nearest restroom to correct the problem.  It's like they're always trying to escape or decorate themselves with your long necklaces...they go boinging around, hither and yon if not properly restrained.  They are a pain in the ass. 

There are good points to them though.  Men love them!  Some women do too!  They distract people from looking at my belly.  They are soft places for little ones to lay their heads.  You can tuck things in your bra around them and use them for storage.  Sometimes you can catch things you’ve dropped in them too.  They can be handy!

Definitely not mine!  But they illustrate the "handy" point and I figure almost everyone likes to see them anyway so why not?

Boobs are like life.  They can be a negative or a positive.  Just depends on how you look at them.  Is that a pun considering the picture right above this?  

I keep getting that reinforced at work lately.  Life, like boobs, can be negative or positive, depending on how you look at it.  

Last week I had several days in a row where people were rude to me.  I was appalled, annoyed and  pissed off about it!  I really let it get to me.  I moped around at home in the evenings.  I didn’t go for my exercise walks, using the crappy weather as an excuse.  I should have been walking to relieve stress and clear my head but I did not.  I was depressed and wallowing in it.  After about 3 days of this I finally got sick of myself and started looking at the interpersonal problems that appeared to be going on and thinking of ways to improve the situation. 

The next morning I came into work and decided that come hell or high water, it was going to be a GOOD day and no one and nothing was going to shit on my plan! 

Weirdly it worked!  I had another rude individual to deal with that morning but this time, instead of taking it personally and negatively, I added her name to my “solution” plan and decided to deal with her in a different way in the future.  I decided to make contact with these problem people more personal.  To avoid email as much as possible since that seems to make little monsters out of some personality types.  Instead I’m opting for phone calls and direct human conversation.  I think it’s harder to be negative/bitchy to someone when they are calling you with a helpful attitude!

I decided I was going to reinforce that I am not their enemy.  That I ask questions because I need answers, not to make their lives difficult.  I decided I was going to make them love me!  Not a hard thing to do because, despite my hard edges, I am pretty danged lovable!   I know this because I have a bunch of folks in my life who love the crap out of me and I love the crap out of them. 

I can do this!

So far it’s been going well!  I’ve been making my phone calls instead of emails and the communication has been friendly and useful.  Vast improvement over last week! 

So on one day my life sucked and I moped and was sad.  On the next day, had the same type of thing but kept smiling and working towards improving the day.  It freaking worked!! 

Life is like boobs.  It can be wonderful or a pain in the ass.  You can focus on the good side or the negative side.  Trust me when I say I know how hokey that sounds.  I have rolled my eyes MANY MANY MANY times when people have posted about how to be more positive on Facebook!!  MANY TIMES.  MANY.  Lots even.  I'm lovable but something of an ass also.

It’s the little things you need to focus on if you want to smile more.   Like…

• I’m wearing a double skull shirt at work and still look like a professional!  I feel like a rebel!
• My necklace has been busy today (just checked – right now it’s hanging calmly like it’s supposed to)
• The telephone is not my enemy.  It can be a useful tool!  (Says a phone phobic person – me)
• Thanks to people being rude to me for days at a stretch, I remembered that I’m well loved and therefore the rude people will not be able to resist the onslaught of my incredible charm when I inflict it on them via the telephone! 
• Today I used Twitter to bitch about something that irks me to no end.  If I said it on Facebook I’d have to get in pissing matches with people I care about and frankly, life is too short.  But I still like to bitch sometimes just for the sake of it.  No one listens to me on Twitter though I got another follower today...maybe they do and they like it?  Anyway, it made me happy! 
                                         ♫ I said the F word on Twitter ♫

Time for another gratuitous Bill Murray pic...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Not!  Here ya go!

I wouldn't mind getting a hat like this someday...

Things my Mother taught me

My Mom at age 19...before I arrived on the scene

On this Mother's Day I'm thinking about my Mom.  She's in the next state over and, if I know my brother, she'll be getting some Mother's Day love from at least one of us today.  I sent her a card and we had a good chat on the phone the other night again.  My Mom is one of my favorite people to talk to!  Here are some of the things my Mom taught me.

* Moms can and should play with their kids. Moms should climb on monkey bars and swing on swings and try to play ball (she tended to duck a lot but she was game!)  Moms, when they become Grannies/Greats (she chose that term...she likes being a Great), should play with silly putty and chase their great gran-kids around the yard shooting toy arrows at them or sword fighting!

 

* Moms are sometimes silly creatures.  My Mom loves oddities.  She collects little "critters" that do song/dance numbers or are silly, like an old naked man in a little bathtub statue she keeps in her living room.  She likes to be surrounded by things that make her smile and laugh.

* Moms can have wicked painful pinches if they catch you messing around in church during services.

* Moms can be so pretty and nice and sweet that some of the boys you bring home will develop crushes on her. Which is good because they need someone like her to see what an awesome woman should be like when they grow up!  She still is charming the men in my life to this day!

* Moms will use guilt, even to try to win at cards sometimes.  We're on to her.  She still tries.

* Moms can throw tantrums. Oops!  Maybe that's more me than my Mom!  Tho it is rather silly when my Mom gets so mad she tries to smack you...she's not very good at it.  My siblings will understand exactly what I'm talking about when I say "flailing hands of fury".

* Moms are not saints.  My Mom isn't.  She taught me how to live.  How to be real.  How to admit when things are tough, to even whine/cry about it but how finally you have to get up, dust off and take care of business.  How it was ok not to be perfect.  It's more about how you fix problems than staying out of them.  Life has problems.  You gotta deal.

* Moms are tough.  Even when it cost her, my Mom would try to do what was right.  She'd even admit sometimes that she didn't want to but she would still forge ahead to do what seemed right to her, even if it was hard.  Even if it hurt. She may seem like a softie most of the time, but there is steel in her spine.

* Moms are capable of unconditional love.  Even if she's really mad at you, she'll still love you.  Fiercely.  And you never have to doubt it, though you might have to put up with "the look" quite a bit.

I'm REALLY LUCKY I got to be my Mom's kid!!!

I will never be a fashionista. I can live with that!

I love clothes!  In fact, I'm planning on shopping for some today.  I'm not super happy about it though.  It's because one of my favorite shirts is finally dying and I need to find a replacement.  Or two.

I will never be a fashionista.

I love my clothes to death.  At least my favorites.  The others...meh.  For example, I recently decided it was time to replace my "pajamas".  I say "pajamas" because it's actually an old swimsuit pullover probably from the late 80's.  It's an oversized black shirt that hangs off the shoulder, Flashdance style.  Some of you will get what that means.  Anyway, it's extremely comfy for sleeping in and doesn't restrict my movements in anyway!

It's hit a new level of being threadbare...

I see the light!!!

I'm rather amazed it hasn't fallen apart yet!  I bought 2 actual pajamas to replace this.  One was a tshirt/pants set and the other a silky gown.  Silky gown works well but the cotton pj pants are freaking annoying!  They catch on my sheets and create issues with my tossing and turning!  I've worn them once.  They may never be worn again.

I was going to throw out my old jammies but never got around to it.  Guess who keeps wearing the old jammies every night still?  Well, it isn't Ken.

Today is hopefully the day I find a shirt to replace my beloved blue lace shirt.

I love the neckline!

This shirt is one of my favorites!  It's nothing special really but I like the color and the neckline.  It's comfortable and doesn't cling to my middle.  That is a bonus!  It used to be bright aqua blue but now it's faded.  It has sprouted a tiny hole in the fabric on the tummy.  I'm so sad!  It's wearing out!  Noooooo!!!

The other day I went to Walmart and Target to try to find something similar.  I found a bunch of pretty shirts but tried them on and discovered that they were almost all fabrics that clung.  Sorry guys but until I get my gut back under control I'm not remotely interested in flaunting it!  And another thing! Just because I don't want clingy clothes doesn't mean I want to wear tents.  Hear me?  I DON'T WANT TO WEAR TENTS.  There can be a happy medium.  Not at Target or Walmart but it exists.  Target and Walmart don't get that about bigger women.  You have to go elsewhere to get more tailored items.  Not that my beloved blue shirt is tailored.  But it works.  It's the right fabric and cut.  It has worked thru slim and not so slim times.  It's my kind of shirt!  The next shirt has some big shoes to fill!

Speaking of shoes...that's another area where I love things to death.  I have annual favorites.  Every spring I buy some canvas tennis shoes and cheapy flip flops and wear them to death.  

 I still have the laces in these.  Soon those will go because who has time to tie shoelaces?

I am thinking I need some flip flops with low heels on them this summer.  I'll have to keep an eye out for them when I'm out shopping today.

I have a pair of low heeled pumps I need to replace sooner rather than later.  I love my pumps!  I've loved them to death!  Whenever I shop for another pair I want the exact same shoes.  I haven't found them yet.  I probably never will.  I'm going to mourn these.  I should probably quit wearing them.  They are semi-retired now but linger on.

I adore these shoes!!

I have a couple of other favorites I'll mention.  First up is my bathrobe.  I got the thing for $5 at a Goodwill store years ago when I was shopping for a Halloween Costume.  It's a man's robe.  Pierre Cardin label.  Heavy terry cloth in dark blue.  It's like a coat.  A long snuggly coat!  I LOVE the thing!  It has lasted years now and shows no sign of an end in sight.  Nothing pretty or feminine about it but I love the thing.  I hope it lasts forever!

Last but sooooo not least, is my sweater.  I don't remember when I got the sweater.  I've had it for many years.  It is the pinnacle of comfort for me.  It's part of my after work uniform all winter, every winter or on a cool night even in the summer.  Every now and then I catch Lacey wearing it.  She gets the allure.  There's just something about a sweater that has loosened up to the point where it doesn't restrict and only warms you.  My mother understands also.  It was dying a couple years ago and I was grieving it.  She took it home with her and sewed up the holes and put it to rights so it can last longer.  She mailed it back to me like a treasured object.  The fact that my mother understood the value of this old raggedy sweater and put her time and love into it makes it ever more of a comfort and more important to me than it was before!  Most folks wouldn't understand.  They'd just see a snagged up raggedy sweater.  I see comfort and love and am always glad to put it on.

my snagged up, beloved raggedy sweater

Mom sewed this pocket up

She sewed this elbow up too - my granddaughter Penelope loves to pull on the snaggle strings

I love clothes.  I love clothes that make me feel comfortable and warm and loved.  I love happy colors and the occasional girly detail.  I love clothes that I feel good wearing but don't distract me and help me do whatever I want to do in comfort.

I will never be a fashionista.  

I can live with that!

Stairs, pasta knees and stupidmares

I just did the stairs again. 

I did them yesterday in a moment of inspiration about how good it would be for me and since they were right by the ladies room, why the heck not?

I clambered up them quite easily. 

I was panting a bit after that but not too bad.  Went back to work at my desk, feeling good about getting a quick bit of exercise. 

Later I had to get up to make a copy and discovered that my knees were a lot like cooked pasta.  I had to move somewhat slowly to avoid the embarrassment of staggering.  My knees stayed like cooked pasta for most of the afternoon.  I went for a mall walk after work to try to work them out and get them back to normal.  Mission was pretty well accomplished by the time I got home last night.

This morning I woke up to aching calves.  Every time I need to stand up and walk I suppress a groan of discomfort.  So I figured, since I was already sore, why not compound that by giving myself pasta knees again? 

So off I gimped to the stairs.  And up the stairs I went!  By the 4^th floor my speed was ok but I was starting to pant.  By the 5^th floor I was moving rather slowly. 

Then I turned around to go back down.  This is the harder part for me.  My knees have never been great for going down stairs.  I screwed them up with torn ligaments back in middle school and they never totally recovered.  I cautiously went back down the stairs, gripping the rail just in case. 

As I went I was praying no one else would come into the stairwell because the echo effect of my heavy breathing might scare them.  Luckily no one else joined me. 

Whew! 

Now I want to tell you about my night last night!

I watched Vikings on the History Channel.  I was horrified by an execution and deeply regretted watching that before bed time.  I’ll admit I spent part of that show with my eyes squeezed shut, peeking to see if it was over yet.  And yet I watched.  I saw too much. 

At least I didn’t have nightmares.  Instead I had stupidmares! 

I dreamt that Ben and I and Ralph Fiennes were walking down a gravel road…it was like historical.  Like I was back in the 20’s or something.  Don’t ask me why I think that.  It just felt that way. 

Ralph stayed behind at some place where he found some old machine that he thought was special.  It looked like an inanimate R2D2 to me but he was terribly excited about it.  Ben & I went on to this “hotel” that looked more like an unpainted prop shanty out of an old western, to wait for Ralph to catch up with us. 

Ben and I started doing shots of whiskey.  I spent most of my time trying to make sure our shot glasses were even.  For some reason it was difficult to do.  I also remember thinking it was probably a bad idea to do whiskey shots first thing in the morning. 

Occasionally my mind would pan back to Ralph Fiennes as he fixed up his stupid machine, cleaning, painting it and putting fresh decals on it and such and looking up to the heavens and laughing with joy.  He was seriously over-emoting.   

Oh, on a side note the “hotel” was supposedly haunted though none of us saw any reason to know that but there it is. 

At least I didn’t dream of hideous executions.  That’s something! 

I was honestly a little bit sad when I woke up this morning.  I kind of liked that dream.

 

More snow, I miss Rusty and drive carefully!

Ok, I'm tired and should be going to bed right now but my mind is busy, busy so going to write a little quick.  Not about much...just that it's going to snow a bunch again in the next day or so.  Starts tomorrow I believe.  I tell myself it's not a big deal because it's going to melt this weekend.

probably what my commute will look like, only not as neat and tidy

Oh the lies I tell myself sometimes!!!

It's fucking depressing.

Sigh.

At least I didn't put away my shovel yet.  Or my boots.  And my salt damaged leather gloves can have another go before they are permanently retired.  Hopefully my back will hold out.

I hope this is the last one for the season.

On another note I listened to Tom Barnard's podcast with Rusty Gatenby.  I've missed that ginger on Channel 5!  I don't watch them much anymore.  I think Channel 5 overreacted.  My opinion.  Plus now it's just another boring TV channel.  I watched 5 because of Patrick and Rusty.  Now they are both gone and I'm left with the typical blah, blah, blah talking heads.  No longer matters which channel I get morning news from.  None of them have any personality.  Also my opinion.

I'm not ok with drunk driving.  It's horribly dangerous and I'm glad he didn't hurt anyone or get himself hurt by doing it.

It's a tough one.  I feel for the guy.  His life got blown up because of this bad judgment call.  I'm glad no one else's life got blown up over it.  We have seen the results of this kind of thing and they don't always turn out relatively harmless.  It's fucking serious people!!!  DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE!!!

EVER!!!!!!

DON'T DO IT!!!

It can ruin your life.  It can ruin other lives.  Hopefully, as in Rusty's case, only temporarily and he'll never do anything so stupid again, but sometimes you're done.  Fin.  Kapoot.

Ever have a moment where you realize you're going to have to die?  I have them once in a while.  Shove them back down as quick as possible!  I mean, we all know we have to but it sucks to dwell on it and won't improve quality of life to do so.  Well, keep it in mind as the weather goes to shit again for the next couple of days.  Let's not rush to meet the reaper.

Drive careful ok?

Here's a gratuitous pic of Bill Murray just for the hell of it.

Boredom and ME ME and a little more ME...cause ME...cause bored. Yup.

Last month was an uninspiring month. 

I am a lazy writer and typically wait for a post to start processing in my brain before I write it down.  Don’t know if my brain was on autopilot all month or what but nothing inspired me to write a blog post. 

My inspiration today is sheer, utter, desperate boredom.

I could never be the writer of much beyond the occasional blog post because I’m not disciplined enough.  At 50 years of age, doubt I will gain any extra discipline during the downhill slide. 

Today I’m uninspired.  I’m writing because it’s slow at work and I’m desperate for something to do to pass some time so I can keep bringing home the bacon.  I am salaried only if I work OT.  If I work less than 40/week I’m hourly.  They call me salaried but nah…I don’t think it really counts.  I’m actually hourly, not to exceed.  That’s what it is.  Not salary…HNTE. 

I make a decent living so can’t complain too much.  I can pay my bills, put tons of money into my money pit of a house and still take an occasional trip to visit my boyfriend in UT.  I’m living large! 

Sorry for the sarcasm there.  It leaks out sometimes. 

I’ve lived worse.  I’ve used to have to choose between cigarettes and a jug of milk back in the day.  Guess which won? 

I hate being bored.

I took a test to find out what my personality is.  Because I don’t know.  Well, because I’m bored really.  I know. 

My Personality Type is “THE DESIGNER”

Whoa!  (upon reading further I realize I don’t really get why I’m called a designer…)

• Designers are emotionally reactive, which means that they experience their emotions strongly and can be very passionate, however they also have a higher tendency to experience emotions such as anxiety, anger and depression. Due to their independence and reserve, sometimes the Designer can be perceived as arrogant or unfriendly, however this is merely because they don't require the same level of social stimulation or interaction that others may seek. The Designer enjoys a good balance between the real world and fantasy, they are mostly aware of and in touch with their emotions. Being open-minded to new and unusual ideas helps them to interact with the world. With a healthy skepticism of the motives of others, and a belief in justice and being self made, sometimes the Designer can come across as guarded or intimidating. However the Designer has a refreshing impulsiveness about them, they tend to dislike too many rules and regulations and can be casual and whimsical.

I do think the description is a decent fit despite the stupid name. 

• You very rarely feel depressed and are usually in a good frame of mind, however you feel strong cravings and urges that you have difficulty resisting. You tend to prefer short-term pleasures and rewards over long-term consequences. You tend to feel overwhelmed by, and therefore actively avoid, large crowds. You often need privacy and time for yourself. Generally you are not considered to be an emotional person, however you are aware of and in touch with your emotions.

This is pretty accurate also.  I am usually calm and reasonably happy.  I agree with that. This also explains my weight problem. 

• People generally perceive you as distant and reserved, and you do not usually reach out to others. You tend to feel overwhelmed by, and therefore actively avoid large crowds. You often need privacy and time for yourself. You are an active group participant but usually prefer to let someone else be the group leader. You lead a leisurely and relaxed life. You are likely to take risks and seek thrills. You have a generally cheerful disposition.
• Often you find the real world is too plain and ordinary for your liking, and you use fantasy as a way of creating a richer, more interesting world for yourself. You are reasonably interested in the arts but are not totally absorbed by them. You are eager to try new activities, travel to foreign lands, and experience different things. You find familiarity and routine boring, and will take a new route home just because it is different. As a person who is open-minded to new and unusual ideas, you love to play with and think about ideas. You also like to debate intellectual issues and often enjoy riddles, puzzles and brain teasers. Often you exhibit a readiness to challenge authority, convention, and traditional values. Sometimes you feel a certain degree of hostility toward rules and perhaps even enjoy ambiguity.

I wonder how many people will wade thru this to this point?  If you know me well you already know most of this stuff.  Maybe.  Sometimes I’m surprised by what people think about me.  When they actually tell me.  I don’t go around asking.  Usually.  Unless something is really bothering me and I am curious to know how I come across.  I know I’m not easy for some people to take.  I’m not everyone’s cup o’ tea! 

• You mostly assume that people are honest and fair, however you are wary and hold back from trusting people completely. You believe that a certain amount of deception in social relationships is necessary. You are guarded in new relationships and less willing to openly reveal the whole truth about yourself. You will help others if they are in need. You do not enjoy confrontation, but you will stand up for yourself or push your point if you feel it is important. You feel superior to those around you and sometimes tend to be seen as arrogant by other people. You are not affected strongly by human suffering, priding yourself on making objective judgements based on reason. You are more concerned with truth and impartial justice than with mercy.

They misspelled judgments.  That’s annoying.  If you’re going to put yourself out there as some sort of personality expert, learn how to spell!

They didn’t catch that I’m the spelling police.  I am.  Even on myself.

Itchy?

Is anyone else out there itchy? 


Deep winter is making me VERY uncomfortable again.  You know, deep winter?  When the air is so dry is sucks every bit of moisture out of your hide no matter how much you moisturize? 


I've tried moisturizing soaps.  I've tried skipping showers.  I've tried various and sundry lotions.  I use benign laundry soap/fabric softeners.  I sit here scratching.  My back itches.  My tummy itches.  My scalp.  In the bend of my elbow.  The backs of my knees. 


I try, unsuccessfully, to not scratch in public, so people don't think I have a skin disease or something.  I just can't stand it!!


I sometimes close my eyes and try to meditate the itch away.  Haven't had much success with that yet. 


My favorite part of the day is when I can come home, strip down as much as possible and switch to super saggy soft unstructured clothes that barely touch me and then scratch my hide with my hair brush.  AHHHHHH!!!  I swear that this time of year, if I had to choose between a good scratching session and a great orgasm I'd opt for the scratching session!


Sometimes scratching that itch can be a downright super fantastic feeling!!! 


I can't wait to be sweaty.  I want moist, well moisturized skin again!


Sigh.


Go away winter...