Those of you who know me...know I live a sometimes...colorful life. In other words, unexpected
and weird shit is attracted to me like Anna Nicole was attracted to rich men on respirators. Living alone, I don't always have someone to witness the oddities that
occur, and thereby, some of the strangest stuff in the known universe will go undetected unless I report it. So every now an again, as the weird shit in the dryer of life clings to me, I'm gonna share the experiences
so that when I'm gone...people can at least say about me, "Damn...that Giz sure had some weird stuff happen
to her". *lol* I will label these "Adventures in Gizzieland" so as to warn you up front of the nature of of the content. That being said...
You remember being young? You remember when you could hold your own with partying crowd....drink like a fish, smoke like a head, take the occasional illicit
pill and be fine for work the next day? Yesterday I had a tooth extraction. The mere word "extraction"...does not provide pleasant visuals.
First thing that told me it was going to be an odd experience is that technology in it's infinite wisdom,has decided that the regular method of delivering
novicane wasn't quite sufficiently dreadful enough. So they've invented a needle for novicane that is like a tat needle. The damn thing VIBRATES~ So there you are...head back, mouth open, with what feels like a Jack Hammer Mini Me would use, that also just happens to have a loaded needle attached to it, is taking the 50 cent tour of the inside of your mouth. The dentist all the while is making "there there" noises and saying stuff like "Just 75 more pricks and you'll be numb". By that time I wasn't sure if he was referring to the numbing process itself or my luck with men, but regardless...he continued this process for probably a good 7 minutes. Now I can do most anything for 7 minutes. I've endured working for an asshole for 17 years...was married to an asshole for 10 years (sorry Rick, I'm sure you're a nice person now), have had my run-ins with a wide variety and assortment of assholes whose only purpose in life it seems was to make me desire to create an endangered species list for people. But the assholiest of these was the dentist yesterday.
In the end however, as usual, the asshole won and the tooth was removed. He apologized for my discomfort and said "Here's a script for some Tylenol 3....this
will help with the pain as you'll be sore for a day or two." Tylenol 3....Hrmpf I thought...might as well give me a hot water bottle or an ice pack and send me on my way. Tylenol 3 is not gonna alleviate anything
except the people at CVS's need to make folks wait in line. But as I knew the numbing from the 75 pricks would eventually wear off, I thought, better safe than
sorry and got it filled.
I laid down about 8:00 and took a little nap...when I got up at 9 I was still somewhat numb but it was starting to wear off. I thought to myself..well..I'll
just wait until I'm ready to go to bed again if I can and take it then so I can sleep. So bout midnight, I got the bottle, read the instructions. Take 1 to 2
pills every 4 -6 hours as needed for pain. By this time I was throbbing a lil and muttering under my breath something about 75 lil pricks that could just
BITE ME...I took ONE pill. I don't take a lot of meds
of a narcotic nature...*lol* so I thought I'd take one to start and if it didn't dent it, I'd take
another. I then laid back and waited for the gentle arms of Morpheus to take me and my 75 lil pricks to the Land of Nod.
I was semi-dozing when I awoke with the distinct sense
that something was not right. My head felt fuzzy but I was pretttty sure that someone had thrown a lit
torch down my throat. My stomach was literally on fire. I reached for my ever present water bottle,
something I do regularly in the dark and so thought nothing of, when I heard a crash. That's odd, I thought...what would make a crashing noise? I tried
to roll over and had evidently somehow become dis-oriented as to my geograhpical location on the
bed, and ended up in the floor. I went to stand up and SURPRISE...my knees didn't work. I must admit I
freaked a lil at this point in the festivities. I mean, I started imaginging how it would be to go thru my life with knees that didn't work. How would I ever
get a salesperson to see me in a store? How would I ever reach the top shelf in my cabinets? How would I get in and out of the shower? How would I reach the
gas/brake pedal in my car? I finally corralled these thoughts together and my analytical side attempted to take over. Okay...you HAD working knees when you went to bed. You walked all day. First make sure they are
still there. Accomplished. Now...see if you can get off all fours and stand on your knees. Accomplished.
Now ...see if you can make it from your knees to your feet. This took a lil longer as for some reason I kept trying to leeeeeeeeean to the right...but
lucklily...my dresser was there so I used it as a lever. Finally standing my immediate attention
returned to problem of locating water. I looked around and saw my water bottle laying on the floor
along with the lamp and the clock radio. Damn I thought. Ya couldn't keep your shit together long enough to look for the water while you were STILL ON THE FLOOR. So...I tried to bend over to get it and made it about 35 degrees and the room started spinning..WHOoooooooaaaa...okay...we'll just go to the kitchen and get ANOTHER water bottle outta the fridge.
I now know how those lil silver balls in a pinball machine feel. I bounced off every corner and wall that lay between my bedroom and the kitchen during this foray to get water. Finally there, I opened it and would have SWORN someone had replaced my normal
40 Watt fridge light bulb with one of those Halogens they use at the airport. Blinded, wasted, bruised and burning I finally groped my way to a water bottle and firmly shut the door. I immediately took a big swig
of the ice cold water in an attempt to douse the inferno in my stomach and clear the cobwebs from my head. When the cold water hit the space the tooth had
recently vacated...well...lets just say 75 lil pricks didn't begin to cover the discomfort level that ensued. Still weaving, I do what I always do when
confronted with seemingly overwhelming odds, I said
fuck it. *lol* I staggered back to bed. Laid down. Drank some more water careful to keep it to the other side of my mouth. Lying there, I looked up and noticed my ceiling fan was moving. That's odd I thought...I didn't have my ceiling fan on. I found
myself propped up against a pillow, head back and rotating slightly trying to figure out how that happened. I didn't feel the breeeeeeze off it....I didn't hear the gentle whapwhapwhap of it
spinning...and was truly puzzled by this anomoly.
Then the firepit in my stomach kicked into overdrive and temporarily distracted by this sensation I forgot all about the fan and proceeded to attack my water bottle again. This seemed to quench the blaze or at
least lessen it some..so I laid back. I was just beginning to doze again when the result of having drunk 3/4 of a bottle of water hit. This would require
locomotion to rememdy. SO...Up I went. I pinballed
my way to the bathroom and sat down, laid my spinning head on the sink counter beside me. What seemed like a few minutes later I realized my ass was hurting and
I was shivering. So I completed the ritual and got up again...which set the room spinning like the Round
Up at the fair. Sooo...being the practical gizzie I am...back to all fours. *lol* I crawled to and into the bed...and promptly passed out. The rest of the
night was a repeat of the above steps which recurred I have no clue how many times. I do know that I woke up this morning with several bruises, an empty water
bottle, the nightstand lamp, a book and one slightly
confused looking cat in bed with me.
I dont' know when I lost the ability to hang. I mean I've never been a party aminal...but I did my share in my younger wilder days. I maintained in the face of
products that would make Tylenol 3 look like baby aspirin. I guess I grew up somewhere along the way
and those survival skills went by the wayside. I don't know. I do know that if anyone ever offers you 75 lil pricks and a script for Tylenol 3...fill the
tub full of ice and load it down with bottled water.
Make a pallet in the bathroom floor with a comfy pillow and blanket and eat before you take the meds. You'll wake up a lot less bruised, confused and with a
pet that will actually come out of the corner. Till next time....
Well the results are in. I aced the written test and passed the practical. Didn't do as well as I would have liked on the practical but it was more about not being able to find my way around the freaking range than the ability to do the maneuvers. I did all of them...just not where I was sposed to a couple of times. *lol* It was a MAJOR hoot and I had a blast even tho it was hottttttt, was 100 degrees today during the practical session. I would encourage ANY women on here to at least try the course. It's fun and informative and once you get the wind in your face, even in this limited capacity, may be hard to enjoy the view from the back again. ;o)
Thanks to everyone for your good wishes. I was very nervous. Next...gotta find a bike. And then probably more practice on my own till I feel comfortable on the open road. But it's a start eh? ;o)))))
Taking my bike class this weekend. If there's a God of Learning to Ride, please send some good thoughts my way. I REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLY don't wanna flip the regular bike the way I did the dirt bike. Can you say Road Rash? *lol* Any tips or look out fors will be appreciated. ;o)
As they handed her the folded flag she felt herself grow cold
Her husband there beside her, lord they both feel so damn old
Said goodbye to their son today, as shots rang through the air
Sits holding the red, white and blue like she's supposed to care
That he died young so others might have, a chance to live life free
To send their kids to school someday, have a choice like you and me
To know what all the rest of us take as our rights each day
She's trying hard to come to grips and find the words to say
But it's cold comfort, that flag folded in her lap
A poor trade for a mother, one that leaves an aching gap
Between what she knows and what she feels, the anger and the grief
Cold comfort took her boy away
Stole him like a thief.
It's better to have loved and lost, or so the saying goes
Alone he sits in an empty bar, and everybody knows
He's buried his pain beneath the gin, this time she's gone for good
And he wishes that he knew the "why", that he just understood
How loving him could get to be a burden that she'd shed
How loving her could hurt so bad, that he'd just wish her dead
He grabs the bottle tighter and the tears they start to flow
He loves that woman so damn much, she ignores, but she knows
And it's cold comfort, that bottle that he holds
A poor trade for a lover, but that's how their story goes
And tomorrow is another day of missing her and drinking
Cold comfort in the bottle, that keeps his heart from thinking.
Cold comfort's all that you can find
Sometimes in this ole life
That's filled with wonder, light and love
But also pain and strife
Cold comfort is a two-edged sword
When you've lost all that you knew
May keep you sane and dull the pain
And help you make it through
L. Beard 2007
Started out the best of friends
Sharing secrets, laughs and time
Met and felt the spark grow hot
Knowing better crossed that line
Wore the passion right out front
Nowhere left to hide
Burned so hot it burned right out
The flaming passion died
Looked for our beginings
We found we'd hollwed out
The trust and easy feelings
That the friendship was about
For a while we tried to find it
Then we both gave up and quit
We parted hardly caring
Bout the fires we'd once lit
And often when I'm missing you
A tear will find it's way
Between a man and woman
On a bright October day
And warn them for each gift of love
There is a price to pay
Two friends no longer friendly
And with nothing much to say
I recently joined NSIA (Nashville Songwriters Institute Association) and have sent them several of my lyrics for evaluation. They sent back the first 5 songs I sent in with very positive comments, some revision recommendations and I'm now in the process of getting them re-evaluated. However, they say that the people who get songs pitched to them almost always have both Lyrics And Music, in other words, complete songs to look at. I love music, but I am not a musician. Does anyone here either compose or know anyone who does that I might be able to get in touch with regarding finding a melody to go with my words? I'd trust you guys a lot quicker than people in Nashville. My work is copywrited so I don't really worry about it being hijacked...just..I guess most lyricists also compose and I don't. Let me know if you know anyone and I appreciate the help! ;o)
I need feedback on a situation from unbaised sources. The scenario is as follows.
Should you have to give up your friends of the opposite if you ever at any time dated them, or actually even if you didn't, to keep the person you are currently involved with happy. There may have been intimacy at one time between you and your friend (s), or there may have just been dating. But by the time you and current get together, if anything romantic HAD occurred, it had been 2 years or more past and had been replaced by a platonic friendship. No kissing no grab assing no innuendo...just hanging out type friends. Meet at the movies, go dutch and your separate ways afterwards, or ...offer advice on problems etc. type friends. You know...like you'd be with someone of the same sex but they just happen to have different equipment.
I recently split with someone over this issue. I cared a great deal about him...but I felt it was wrong of him to ask me to get rid of any man I was friends with simply because he had a pecker and may or may not have seen me nekkid at some point. He said that men ALWAYS want to bring into it. My thought was just cause I have a friend with a pecker don't mean he's gonna feel compelled to use it on me. We're past that part of the man/woman thing. We're friends.
This split us up. Much as I loved him, I felt the friends I had, had earned my friendship and I theirs. I tried to compromise by saying I wouldn't be around them if he wasn't there, but he wouldn't GET around any of them. I couldn't talk to them on the phone if they needed advice or just wanted to see how I was doing. Couldn't send them a joke via email. NO contact allowed.
Losing him has hurt. But I felt I would have been hurt worse by losing myself to irrational and uncompromising demands. I never ran around on this man. We discussed the "M" word...something I haven't done since my initial and ONLY discussion about that almost 20 years ago. But this issue, which is basically a trust issue just kept rearing it's ugly head and by the end my Taurean stubborness kicked in and I could not give up friends for love.
Am I crazy? Too late for your advice to change anything now...but this really really bugs me. So be honest.
A frog goes into a bank for a loan. He approaches the teller's window and notices that her name is Ms. Patty Whack. He tells Ms. Whack that he'd like to get a loan for $35,000 and that his father, Mick Jagger, knows the president of the bank personally. The teller, somewhat amused by this claim, tells the frog that he will have to have some kind of collateral to put up before she'll even consider approaching the president of the bank with his request. The frog procedes to pull from his pocket a perfectly carved ivory elephant. The teller takes the elephant, inspects it and tells the frog he must be crazy that no one will approve a loan for $35,000 using an ivory elephant as collateral. The frog assures her once again, that the president is a close personal friend of his father, Mick Jagger, and pleads for her to take the elephant and his loan request into the president. The teller, smugly smiles and says she'll do just that.
She walks into the president's office and says, "I have a frog out here who says he's Mick Jagger's son, that you two are friends and he wants a loan for $35,000 using this as collateral." She then hands him the perfectly carved ivory elephant and says "What IS that anyway?"
The bank president looks at her and says....."It's a knick knack Patty Whack give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone".
The Seven Dwarfs go to the Vatican, and because they are THE
Dwarfs, they are ushered in to see the Pope.
Dopey leads the pack.
?Dopey, my son,? says the Pope, ?what can I do for you??
?Excuse me, Your Excellency, but are there any dwarf nuns in
The Pope wrinkles his brow at the odd question, thinks for a
moment, and answers ?No, Dopey, there are no dwarf nuns in Rome.?
In the background, a few of the dwarfs start giggling.
Dopey turns around and gives them a glare, silencing them.
Dopey turns back. ?Your Worship, are there any dwarf nuns in all
of Europe?? The Pope, puzzled now, again thinks for a moment and then
answers, ?No, Dopey, there are no dwarf nuns in Europe.?
This time, all of the other dwarfs burst into laughter. Once
Dopey turns around and silences them, with an angry glare.
Dopey turns back and says, ?Mr. Pope! Are there ANY dwarf nuns
anywhere in the world??
?I?m sorry, my son, there are no dwarf nuns anywhere in the
The other dwarfs collapse into a heap, rolling and laughing,
pounding the floor, tears rolling down their cheeks, as they
?Dopey screwed a penguin!?......
?Dopey screwed a penguin!?......
Tequila should have to have a warning on the label that reads:
Consumption of contents may lead to deep philosphical thinking at the shallow end of the pool, counting fireplace rock to get your mind off the RPM the room is spinning at, the loss of the ability to remember if the zipper is supposed to be up or down to remove pants, taste buds that only remember the taste of tequila regardless of what they are currently exposed to, and laughing so hard you nearly pee in your pants (courtesy of the above inability to remember how a zipper works). In short...it should read TEQUILA IS E V I L!
I'm goin to bed. Send good thoughts my way. *lol*
Sam you are the man we love
In those skin tight torn blue jeans
With a voice as deep as wells untapped
And you know what I mean
Those eyes, those lips that taut physique
The hands made to carress
Makes all the ladies stop and sigh
Cause Sam, you are the Best!
*sigh* I'm gonna have to quit thinking about that man...He's married. *damnit* *lol*
Have you ever loved someone you just couldn't make it work with? It's not that you want anyone else...or that they want anyone else. It's not that they have habits that make you want to put a needle in your eye to keep you from killin'em. It's not that they don't fufill you in the ways we all like and need to be fufilled. It's just stupid stuff that you can't seem to get around long enough to remember why you're together in the first place? And you try.. knowing what the problems are and figuring that since you're armed with the knowledge about where the land mines lay, you'll be able to traverse the battleground intact, just to wind up getting sniped from behind a tree somwhere. Guess Pat Benetar was right. Love is a battlefield. It's a sad thing. But what do ya do? Suggestions? Answers? Ideas for new battle plans? Commiserate with me people..I need some commisery. *lol*
Just wanted to say Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there. I lost mine a long time ago, but I still think of her often and miss her. Those of you who still have your moms but maybe not the best relationship with them, make the first move. You don't get to pick family...you just get to love'em anyway. *w*
Happy Mother's Day ;o)
If any two words in the English language should scare the Bejesus out of you?it's the words ".."Character Building". Never have two words encompassed such a wide variety almost always baaaaaaaaaaaad stuff. Some examples from my own life?
When I was young, and had misbehaved, my grandmother or father usually sent me to pick out my own switch to be punished with. I've never figured out exactly what the purpose of this exercise was. My father assured me it had more to do with the time involved in the selection process for said switch and the thoughts that should be occurring in my brain during this period than the actual hunt. Switch selection chores were designed to provide you time to think about your crime, why it was wrong, who you should apologize to for it, and how, if the behavior continued, it may twist your character in ways having far-reaching consequences. Coming to these realizations, he assured me, would leave me spiritually and morally stronger and build character. I think sometimes they just did it to torture us. Quick switch selection almost always resulted in extra licks physically, and slow, onerous switch selection, while less physically painful was mentally torturous. Move along to high school.
I was a pretty good, fairly uninspired student. I hardly ever studied anything but Spanish and still managed to get A's and B's throughout my academic career. Until I met Algebra. I didn't, and still don't I might add, understand the need for the general populace to have to endure Algebra unless you're planning on being an architect or some other kind of engineer which requires lots of this kind of math. It has served me ABSolutely NO purpose and made my junior year HELL! Not once while struggling with any of the many difficulties of just living have I sat searching for an answer to which Algebra was the response. Yet I stayed late most every night of my junior year, with a very understanding teacher trying his darndest to fit his equations and nonsensical squiggles into my brain in the right order. There were tears people. Hair pulling, pencil chewing, head banging marathons of After School Special trauma. I felt bad. The teacher felt bad. I asked if I couldn't just get out of the freaking class and was told that beginning my move into adulthood by quitting the first real thing I ever found I just couldn't do would set bad precedent for the rest of my life. In other words? Beating yourself up over failing??? Great character building experience.
Lying. The choices we face every day about choosing to tell the truth, or choosing to lie also fall into the category of character building experiences. We all lie, although we like to think we don't, it's inevitable. Most all people lie about small things. They are called "white lies" to lessen the inherent bad impression the word lie leaves behind. These are the "Yes,your hair looks GREAT!" or "he's the cutest baby I think I've ever seen" kind of lies. Technically? Yes..they are lies. But they are lies that by their utterance are designed to assuage someone's fears or make them feel better about themselves or a situation. After all, you can't tell someone their hair looks like a chia pet or their baby's face could keep crows out of the corn. Hair styles change and babies turn into little people at some point and if you value the person whose hair or baby it is, you hedge a little. Lies of kindness grandma called them.
There's a million other kinds of lies..ones to the IRS, ones to the library regarding late or unreturned books, ones to the power company cause the check's in the mail, ones to your Aunt Matilda about you missing lunch at her house cause you were sick or helping a friend move when in reality the only thing worse than Aunt Matilda's cooking is the way her house smells and having to sit on that plastic covered couch and talk about people you never knew and will never know cause they are dead now. These are give and take lies. Specifically told to protect yourself without really hurting the other party, and usually in time, you do what you should do anyway. These lies are more about timing than intent. As far as character building goes, I don't really feel like these lies are too damning to the overall well-being of your character. They put lil dings in it, but hopefully, we do enough good turns to pop them back out. The $5 we put in the bum on the corner's cup, or the $500 we donated to the Salvation Army or the retired lady next door you run to the grocery store for cause she's too old to drive and needs flour to bake a cake for her granddaughter's birthday. You lie a little bit to give yourself some wiggle room, and then take that grace and do something good with it later. Use some time or money or gas or whatever you hedged on previously and give it to someone else. Then of course there are the big lies.
Big lies are told specifically to protect yourself or enhance your image and can and often do hurt others. I'm not a very accomplished liar. I've found myself in situations where for whatever reason, I've felt the need to lie and I don't believe I've ever actually felt Good about one of them. Not that the attempt wasn't made, I just suck at it. And the GUILT. OY VEY! I almost always go back to the person I lied to and tell them I lied. And that's a hard thing to do. I remember when I was little I once swiped a piece of candy from the local Rexall. I was with my mom and when she saw me with the candy in the car and asked where I got it, she made me go back in and tell the pharmacist I took it and apologize. Was there ever a longer walk than the one from the car back into that store? The walk of shame. The same walk you make when you have to confront a lie you've told, and the person you told it to. And there are a million rationalizations for doing it at the time, i.e. in this particular instance the truth doesn't matter anyway, therefore the lie won't either, it'll save time or hassles or whatever or this is what they want to hear so I'll just tell it to them and maybe they'll shut up. But the bad thing about lying is, no matter what person you are lying to, your family, friends, significant other or boss you are always lying to yourself first. Lying about who or what you are, or what you've done or what you have or how you feel. One of two things usually happens when you are lying to yourself and others. You either become such an accomplished liar you lose all credibility, or you lose yourself in the lies and become someone you didn't set out to be.
I was recently in a relationship that turned out to be about control. Control of me is not something I give up readily because I was raised to plot my own course. But I cared for this person and wanted to have the time to see how things went. Demands were made, and for a while I met them, but soon resentment set in. So...I carried on the appearance of compliance, while trying to maintain some sense of who I am and lied about it. My rationalization was I know this is harmless, after they get to know me THEY will know it's harmless, and it will all work out in the end. But as I said, I'm not proficient at this. It wore on me after a while, the lies I was telling to avoid fighting and the lies I was telling myself about it being okay to tell the other lies. Lies are like rabbits. No end to'em once you start. After a year of this, the person I thought would get to know me was no closer to knowing who I was than when we started, and there was no end in sight to lying to avoid conflict. I got up every morning and looked in the mirror and I didn't like what I saw. And I came to realize, of course they don't know me. I've compromised who I am on the off chance this person will care enough about me to get to know who I am at the basic level. Talk about going around your ass to get to your elbow. So I quit.
As hard as it was I confronted the person with my lies, my reasons for lying and told them I didn't intend to lie about anything about me anymore with anyone ever again. If they couldn't handle it perhaps it was best if we parted. We went back and forth for a while, with me being completely honest when asked a question, regardless of what I knew the reaction would be even though I cared for this person a great deal. Finally the battles got old and I realized I went through all this trying to save the time that we spent together for the good things, laughter and travel and long talks, instead of fighting over things adults shouldn't have to be arguing about and ended up not enjoying the time anyway because I felt guilty for lying and resentful of feeling like I had to.
What I got out of this experience? Anyone you can't be yourself around, you probably shouldn't BE around. If you try and compromise who you are to suit someone else, any affection you feel will eventually turn to resentment and finally anger and defiance. And while the lies of kindness and give and take lies may actually have some kernel of purpose if not goodness to them, the big lies almost always hurt the teller worst. Because once you start to think of yourself as a liar, it's hard to go back. It damages your own opinion of your character when you live with lies.
I thought when I was younger, some day I'd have it allll figured out. Things were bound to get easier. I still learn something new almost daily and people continue to surprise the hell out of me a lot of the time. So I guess I have a lot more character building crap to go through. But that's okay. I'm learning to look at character building crap like life's road construction. You need to go through it to get to where you're supposed to be. And after you learn the routes, the next time you're faced with a choice about which road to take, you'll know whether this is somewhere you should be going at all, and if so, the route with the best scenery and least hassles. And I guess sometimes, you have to put your character in jeopardy, to realize what its' worth.
Today is gizzie is pissed off day. *lol* Ya know what I hate? I hate people who talk on cellphones while they are driving. I mean...WHAT is so Freaking important that you can't wait till you get wherever the hell it is you're on your meandering way to, to talk to someone on the phone. I swear to god if ONE more person gets in front of me doin 25 in a 55 or floats over into my lane while they have a cell phone glued to their head, I'm gonna be on the 7 o'clock news. Granted...I didn't even own a cell phone until May of 2005...but even now that I have one, if I'm going to be on the phone more than long enough to say "call ya back" while driving, I get Gizypony OFF the road. Not like we didn't have enough fruit loops driving as it is...puttin on make-up, changing shirts, dancing and turning 180 around in the seat to get WhatEver out of the back. Not to mention the bluehairs. (no offense, I love old people...but I'm about ready to initiate a law that says if you have shrunk to the point you have to sit on a pillow to see over the wheel you probably shouldn't be piloting a moving vehicle). I haven't been the pilot of a bike yet...but I'm seriously debating having those bumper things like you used to see on waterbeds installed around my bike. *lmao* Hell I already flipped the dirt bike and wasn't no one around but me! I can just imagine what's gonna happen when I get on the road. So I say SMACK'EM UPSIDE THE HEAD! *lol* Is Anyone else feeling my pain?
Thanks for the vent...I'm going to chant now...
*chantin* smack'emupsidethehead smack'emupsidethe head
A friend and I were talking the other day about men and women and how GOD in his infinite wisdom came up with the current plan for them to relate to each other. He wound up his thoughts by saying "The war between the sexes is the oldest conflict on earth, and will never be resolved. Makes the Mideast look like a pie fight." *lol*
Set me to wondering just why that is. If you look at all the conspicuous evidence, it would seem that indeed man and woman were made for each other. Her strengths and weaknesses offset or enhance his strengths and weaknesses and vice versa. Their bodies, no doubt, made to fit like interlocking jigsaw pieces. So why is it we have so much trouble finding and maintaining relationships?
Grandma told me in the old days things were simpler. Travel was harder so you normally married within your community and settled there as well. And people held onto things. Life was hard. You didn't waste much. Food, money, time, resources. Clothes were handed down. She had furniture I'm convinced was hewn by stone tools. *lol* Sturdy...generational pieces that serviced many homes in their lifetime. Some still in use today. You threw nothing away, because who knew when you could replace it.
I heard a comment Paul Newman made one time when asked how he and JoAnn Woodward had managed to stay together so long in Hollywood, a town where most relationships have the expiration date of milk. He said the problem today is it's a throwaway society. Wives and husbands discard their marriages, their kids, kids discard their parents and grandparents. Friends are fair barter and everyone is out for instant gratification. And all society suffers as a result because we want everything..and value nothing.
I'm not sure what the reasons to stay together are anymore. I think a lot of people, myself included, have a whole list of reasons to part. And when there's violence or apathy or the kind of ...death in your soul that occurs when you're in a relationship that is no longer working, I suppose, as you only get one life, it's best to move on and search for something healthier and more uplifting. But how many times can you do that before you have to look at yourself and ask what the issues really are? It's easy to cite a list of reasons for not staying in a relationship. We're groomed by the news and the general atmosphere of life to focus on the negative. I wonder if anyone ever looks at a relationship in trouble and has the initial thought of "What are the reasons to stay?" Or are we so spoiled and jaded that if a relationship isn't easy, it's too much trouble to maintain.
*shrug* I dunno. I do know I've never "replaced" anyone I've ever loved. I learned early that you need to say the things that need to be said to the people who need to hear them, cause when they're gone, so is the chance to say them. And grandma gave me some of the best advice I ever had about relationships right before I got married. She said marriage is like a garden. You can plant the prettiest, hardiest plants in the world, but if you don't weed and water and show them love, your garden will be made of rocks. In marriage, if you aren't busy growing together, you'll be busy growing apart. And you won't even realize it.
I've been married once. Had several relationships in the last 10 years. Some with men I loved. Some with men. *lol* Sometimes it's been a blast. And sometimes..well...I like to think of them as learning experiences. And every now and again I have to take a break and remind myself that anything worth having is worth working at. I think of my father and mother and what I saw between them. A woman, who knowing she was dying set about re-modeling her house so her kids and her husband would have a place she'd left her mark on to live in. And a father, who when he died some 25 odd years later, still had on his wedding band. They threw nothing away. Even apart, separated by death and hardship, their garden still bloomed.
It is a mobile society. And we are hedonistic as a species. And it gets hard at times to even think about planting a garden. But when I think about just going to the grocery store and getting my produce, I think about mom and dad and their garden. And the bounty it provided them in life and beyond. And before I know it, I'm looking at...agriculture..in a whole nother way.
I wish for all of us a happy life and a garden in bloom. ;o)
Have you ever had one of THOSE days? You know the kind I mean?the kind that have you wanting to throttle someone before you've been out of bed for 20 minutes. I had one of those today.
It was 5:50 a.m. and I was lying there trying to ignore the cat, who wanted me to get up and feed him. He was pulling Kleenex out of the box on my bedside table and feeling rather clever in his wickedness because he didn't realize I planned to whack him into the next solar system instead of getting up. I reached down with my hand to swat at him, my fingertips brushing by the edge of the table on their downward journey and VOILA!?..I broke two nails. I got up using words that would force the most liberally educated sailor to blush and went to feed the little cretin. Afterwards, I made sure to shut the door to my bedroom so that I might still be able to squeeze another 15 or 20 minutes of sleep in before I Had to get ready for work.
I had just settled in and although I was not in Morpheus' arms yet, he was waving at me from the corner, when I heard a loud Crash from the living room. I jumped out of the bed and VOILA!!?.ran right into the door, backed up and opened it running into the living room and immediately stepped into water. Khan ( so aptly named after the barbarian Ghengis Khan due to his propensity to play in the toilet if the lid is left up) had knocked over some roses I had placed in a large vase on my speaker. Even though I had, earlier in the week, described in great detail how creative I would get with Nair and his body should he not be able to overcome his fascination with my pre-wilt flowers. I now had water all down the front of said speaker, all over my hardwood floor, under the throw rug the coffee table sits on and underneath the entertainment center that Has to weigh at least as much as one of those hybrid cars.
I've always heard that animals, like children, need to be disciplined or rewarded at the moment the pleasing or offending behavior occurs, so after I threw a towel down on the floor, I started toward him for the required Pop on the hindquarters and Emphatic NO!! at which point he started to flee, like any sane being seeing a 5'11, bed-headed, cursing, pissed-off person coming toward them would. In my agitated state I either forgot totally or ignored in lieu of the promise of that pop, that my wet feet and the hardwood floor had entered into a special relationship that required no social lubricant. VOILA!!! (I.E. I busted my ass and he got away.)
On my way down I just happened to see the clock. It was now 6:07 a.m. Lying there on the floor I reviewed my behavior of the previous week?.had I flipped off some little ole blue haired driver???made an unkind remark about someone who's result was out of proportion to their effort???kept incorrect change from a drive thru???glared at someone in the grocery store for having more than 10 items in the express lane??? I don't know. I just know that if everything I had to process in the first 15 minutes of my day, could not be blamed on some universal harbinger of doom like a Friday the 13th?.what chance do any of us have?
Good thing I'm a Taurus. Too stubborn to care I'm too stupid to give up. *lol*
** I actually wrote this when it happened about mid Feb. Thought I'd share since most Everyone has one of "those" days some days.
I was lying in bed this morning about 5:45?.just trying to nudge my mental faculties into action and I noticed the birds. They were singing. A smile was on my face before I realized it'd crept up.
Been a rough winter. Travel for work on an international scale back in November and the holidays and all the madness that entails and relationship hassles of a gargantuan scale at home. Seemed there for a long time there was nowhere I could go where I could just be me. Crazy sometimes, serious sometimes, goofy most all the time.
I start pushing spring every year at this time. I get behind every sunny day and budding plant and whisper soft encouraging words. Washing windows so the sunlight is unencumbered as it filters through the windows of my house. Cleaning the grill and my lounge chairs in preparation for the day I can spend outside planting or reading or just breathing in the miracle of the seasons.
Just like if you wait long enough spring will come, in some instances through time and perseverance, what's supposed to happen does. Then you can lie in bed in the morning and listen for the singing of the birds and actually get to enjoy it.
Spring has always been my friend. New buds on the flowers, new babies of all types on the ground, another chance to start over on the road to happiness. It ain't easy finding happiness. But I still believe it's out there. And spring?makes it worth the search.
Hey guys..I'm Gizzie. I'm new here and not sure what's okay to blog on and what's not...so if I get outta line someone tell me. I've ridden with others most of my life..but am trying to learn to do this myself now. Had my first attempt today on the dirt bike from hell. *lol* First thing outta the gate I flipped it. *lol* Luckily, I bounce well for my age and was in the grass. ;o) And I'm Taurus and could teach mules stubborn so that is usually a + in new situations. Anyways...I've read some of the blogs and you seem like a good group of people. Wish me luck on my endeavor...I'm goin back tomorrow to try some more. Hopefully I'll get the normal view of the bike only this time and not the one I inflicted on myself today. It'll be an adventure I'm sure. Stay tuned. ;o)
Ride safe! Have FUN!