Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
This past weekend...
was my High School reunion. Well, not really high school. Actually, it was my Junior High School reunion. I used to live in Queens, New York. I grew up there. The place is in my blood and part of everything I am. I had all my "firsts" in Queens. One summer, I went to sleepaway camp, like I always did, with all my friends from Queens. It was, as usual, a blast. Great summer, moreso because I got to be a junior counselor that year.
On the last day of camp, I hugged all my friends goodbye and told them I would see them at school in a couple of weeks. My parents always took us on some stupid vacation at the end of camp. I was all prepped for it. So, with my brother and I packed up in the car...we began on our journey to wherever it was we were going. I saw us pass the exit for Queens as we were driving along the Long Island Expressway.
"Where are we going," I asked.
"You'll see," Esther chirped.
We drove on for what felt like HOURS. We finally pulled up in front of this enormous brown house. Tons of trees and foliage.
I hated it immediately.
"Welcome home," my mother said.
EXCUSE ME????
"What do you mean 'welcome home', I asked. "This isn't HOME!" Now, I'm panicking.
"We just bought this house," my stepfather said. "isn't it great?"
Great? I don't think so.
I ran away from home THAT weekend, right back into Queens, sobbing into the arms of my friends. I stayed at several different houses throughout the week of any friend who would have me. I missed the first week of school in Long Island. I didn't care. There was no way I was going back there. No. Freaking. Way.
Well, with police intervention, I was returned to my parents house. I started school in Long Island, but never fit in there. Sure, I made a couple of friends, but my heart was always deeply embedded in Queens. I went back there every weekend that I could. I had friends from Queens come out to this mansion I was living in. They started calling me a "richie", which was someone who had money. We didn't have money...but the house I lived in sure as hell looked like we did.
Eventually, those ties tapered off...
Years later, my kindergarten friend, Abby, tracked me down on Classmates.com. We picked up right where we had left off some 20 years earlier. Then, along came Facebook, getting me deeper in contact with all my friends from Queens. We have been laughing and talking online for months. All of this leading up to my reunion this past weekend.
I haven't seen these people in 28 years...since I was torn away from them, kicking and screaming all the while.
It was bizarre to see most of them. Everyone aged, sure. The men got bald, the women got chunky and had lines on their beautiful faces...but for the most part, no personalities had changed. We meshed right back into our old fun and games like no time passed at all. The reunion was a blast. So much laughing, talking and drinking going on (not me though...I stayed sober). We had an "after party" at a local restaurant that we stayed at until 5am.
Now that it's over, I wish it never ended. I got back on a plane to Florida in tears, the same way I left them 28 years ago. I hope I don't have to wait another 28 years before I see these people again. It would break my heart. These are my true friends. I couldn't believe the fond memories they had of me during certain times of their lives. It was great to reminisce about the old days. All we did was laugh and laugh to the point where we couldn't breathe any longer.
It was simply and without question, the most amazing time of my life.
On the last day of camp, I hugged all my friends goodbye and told them I would see them at school in a couple of weeks. My parents always took us on some stupid vacation at the end of camp. I was all prepped for it. So, with my brother and I packed up in the car...we began on our journey to wherever it was we were going. I saw us pass the exit for Queens as we were driving along the Long Island Expressway.
"Where are we going," I asked.
"You'll see," Esther chirped.
We drove on for what felt like HOURS. We finally pulled up in front of this enormous brown house. Tons of trees and foliage.
I hated it immediately.
"Welcome home," my mother said.
EXCUSE ME????
"What do you mean 'welcome home', I asked. "This isn't HOME!" Now, I'm panicking.
"We just bought this house," my stepfather said. "isn't it great?"
Great? I don't think so.
I ran away from home THAT weekend, right back into Queens, sobbing into the arms of my friends. I stayed at several different houses throughout the week of any friend who would have me. I missed the first week of school in Long Island. I didn't care. There was no way I was going back there. No. Freaking. Way.
Well, with police intervention, I was returned to my parents house. I started school in Long Island, but never fit in there. Sure, I made a couple of friends, but my heart was always deeply embedded in Queens. I went back there every weekend that I could. I had friends from Queens come out to this mansion I was living in. They started calling me a "richie", which was someone who had money. We didn't have money...but the house I lived in sure as hell looked like we did.
Eventually, those ties tapered off...
Years later, my kindergarten friend, Abby, tracked me down on Classmates.com. We picked up right where we had left off some 20 years earlier. Then, along came Facebook, getting me deeper in contact with all my friends from Queens. We have been laughing and talking online for months. All of this leading up to my reunion this past weekend.
I haven't seen these people in 28 years...since I was torn away from them, kicking and screaming all the while.
It was bizarre to see most of them. Everyone aged, sure. The men got bald, the women got chunky and had lines on their beautiful faces...but for the most part, no personalities had changed. We meshed right back into our old fun and games like no time passed at all. The reunion was a blast. So much laughing, talking and drinking going on (not me though...I stayed sober). We had an "after party" at a local restaurant that we stayed at until 5am.
Now that it's over, I wish it never ended. I got back on a plane to Florida in tears, the same way I left them 28 years ago. I hope I don't have to wait another 28 years before I see these people again. It would break my heart. These are my true friends. I couldn't believe the fond memories they had of me during certain times of their lives. It was great to reminisce about the old days. All we did was laugh and laugh to the point where we couldn't breathe any longer.
It was simply and without question, the most amazing time of my life.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
So, it's been awhile since I confessed my problem...
and I have run into new difficulties. I don't know how many days sober I am anymore, since I stopped counting. I figure I am going to fuck that up at my high school reunion this coming weekend. Nothing huge, just a few drinks. I don't have a problem with alcohol, so I am not really concerned about it. Usually the shit makes me vomit. I don't like it much. And, truth be known...despite being a Princess and all, I am really more of a beer kind of girl. However, this party is going to have a four hour open bar. We are flying up from Florida to New York and paid $110 a ticket, so I will be damned if I don't suck down a few Red Bulls with vodka.
Anyway, I digress.
The problem I am running into now is with my nursing license. They (the powers that be who hold the licensure hearings) want me to do an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) in order to get my license back. I have no problem with this. I knew I was going to have to jump through a lot of hoops to obtain my license again. These programs are 3 times a week for 3 hours a shot. That both sucks and blows. Again, I will do it.
Here's the problem. These programs require you go through ANOTHER evaluation ($80) and then pay $176 per day for your 3 hour program. Now, mind you, you aren't allowed to be working from the time your license is suspended until the time comes that the suspension is lifted.
Am I supposed to pull $500 a week out of my fine ass? Perhaps just shit it out?
So, I call the program to ask them if they have any alternative programs for "indigent" applicants. They have one that runs on a sliding scale fee. Beautiful, except they go by last years tax returns. Well, last year, I was working and my husband was making GREAT money before this damn recession slammed us so hard. Therein lies the problem. We are not in the same financial situation we were in last year...or the program wouldn't be a problem. *shrugs*
Well, I am thinking about working in a non-nursing related field. I was a paralegal for 12 years prior to doing nursing. And, I don't mind the research work. But, lawyers are bigger assholes than doctors. That part I mind. (No offense to any of my beloved blogger buddies who are lawyers...you know who you are!) I don't like lawyers very much...at least not the corporate variety. I like medical malpractice. That's fun. I love to help land doctors in hot water. For me, it's the best of both worlds. Doctor wins, lawyer is pissed. Lawyer wins, doctor is pissed. Either way, I am amused.
So, until I figure something else out, I will remain unemployed and non-licensed.
Nice work if you can get it.
Anyway, I digress.
The problem I am running into now is with my nursing license. They (the powers that be who hold the licensure hearings) want me to do an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) in order to get my license back. I have no problem with this. I knew I was going to have to jump through a lot of hoops to obtain my license again. These programs are 3 times a week for 3 hours a shot. That both sucks and blows. Again, I will do it.
Here's the problem. These programs require you go through ANOTHER evaluation ($80) and then pay $176 per day for your 3 hour program. Now, mind you, you aren't allowed to be working from the time your license is suspended until the time comes that the suspension is lifted.
Am I supposed to pull $500 a week out of my fine ass? Perhaps just shit it out?
So, I call the program to ask them if they have any alternative programs for "indigent" applicants. They have one that runs on a sliding scale fee. Beautiful, except they go by last years tax returns. Well, last year, I was working and my husband was making GREAT money before this damn recession slammed us so hard. Therein lies the problem. We are not in the same financial situation we were in last year...or the program wouldn't be a problem. *shrugs*
Well, I am thinking about working in a non-nursing related field. I was a paralegal for 12 years prior to doing nursing. And, I don't mind the research work. But, lawyers are bigger assholes than doctors. That part I mind. (No offense to any of my beloved blogger buddies who are lawyers...you know who you are!) I don't like lawyers very much...at least not the corporate variety. I like medical malpractice. That's fun. I love to help land doctors in hot water. For me, it's the best of both worlds. Doctor wins, lawyer is pissed. Lawyer wins, doctor is pissed. Either way, I am amused.
So, until I figure something else out, I will remain unemployed and non-licensed.
Nice work if you can get it.
Friday, July 17, 2009
i think i may have tourettes!
I have a very foul mouth. Don't know where I got it or when I got it, but somehow, I cannot control the things I say. This is most prevalant on facebook. I tend to say things in peoples threads that are simply vulgar and tasteless. Then, I get other people on that same list saying "Oh CP, you are so disgusting!" I can't apologize for it because I have been like that since birth.
My father (my biological one) was named Stephen. When Stephen and Esther were married, all they did was fight...ALL the time. They would hurl the worst kinds of profanity at each other. So one day, when I was two years old, my mother was selling my crib. A couple came over to buy the crib. Their names were Steven and Ruth. My mother said "CP? This is Ruth and Steven. They are here to buy your old crib!" First words out of my mouth?
"Fuck you, Steven."
No hesitation. Just blurted it out, much to the chagrin of my parents. What the hell do they expect from me? You're going to scream fuck you at each other all day long and don't expect your child to pick it up? Bitch, Please!
Now, I say filthy things on Facebook. I have started talking to people I don't even know just to say nasty things to them. There is a friend of a friend on Facebook that I find myself saying really filthy things to because I know he gets frustrated and embarassed. I can't help it. The more people tell me to stop, the more I insist on doing it.
I like to tell people to suck my tits all the time. Even if I don't really want them to, I still need to say it to them.
My high school reunion is next weekend, and I know I am going to find myself saying that to people I went to school with. It's my answer for everything.
Hey CP? How are you?
Suck my tits.
Hey CP? What are you up to?
Nothing much. Suck my tits.
Hey CP? Anything going on?
Yeah, you. Sucking my tits.
See? It can't be helped. And I have tried to stop it, but it simply doesn't work. Could it be that I have a mild form of Tourtette's? I don't know. For those of you who don't know what Tourette's is, allow me to school you:
And don't send me any hatemail saying "You know CP, that's not funny. My _________ has Tourette's and you shouldn't make fun of it?
Oh yeah? Suck my tits.
My father (my biological one) was named Stephen. When Stephen and Esther were married, all they did was fight...ALL the time. They would hurl the worst kinds of profanity at each other. So one day, when I was two years old, my mother was selling my crib. A couple came over to buy the crib. Their names were Steven and Ruth. My mother said "CP? This is Ruth and Steven. They are here to buy your old crib!" First words out of my mouth?
"Fuck you, Steven."
No hesitation. Just blurted it out, much to the chagrin of my parents. What the hell do they expect from me? You're going to scream fuck you at each other all day long and don't expect your child to pick it up? Bitch, Please!
Now, I say filthy things on Facebook. I have started talking to people I don't even know just to say nasty things to them. There is a friend of a friend on Facebook that I find myself saying really filthy things to because I know he gets frustrated and embarassed. I can't help it. The more people tell me to stop, the more I insist on doing it.
I like to tell people to suck my tits all the time. Even if I don't really want them to, I still need to say it to them.
My high school reunion is next weekend, and I know I am going to find myself saying that to people I went to school with. It's my answer for everything.
Hey CP? How are you?
Suck my tits.
Hey CP? What are you up to?
Nothing much. Suck my tits.
Hey CP? Anything going on?
Yeah, you. Sucking my tits.
See? It can't be helped. And I have tried to stop it, but it simply doesn't work. Could it be that I have a mild form of Tourtette's? I don't know. For those of you who don't know what Tourette's is, allow me to school you:
Tourette syndrome (also called Tourette's syndrome, Tourette's disorder, Gilles de la Tourette syndrome, GTS or, more commonly, simply Tourette's or TS) is an inherited neuropsychiatric disorder with onset in childhood, characterized by the presence of multiple physical (motor) tics and at least one vocal (phonic) tic; these tics characteristically wax and wane. Tourette's is defined as part of a spectrum of tic disorders, which includes transient and chronic tics..
Tourette's was once considered a rare and bizarre syndrome, most often associated with the exclamation of obscene words or socially inappropriate and derogatory remarks (coprolalia). However, this symptom is present in only a small minority of people with Tourette's.[1] Tourette's is no longer considered a rare condition, but it may not always be correctly identified because most cases are classified as mild. Between 1 and 10 children per 1,000 have Tourette's;[2] as many as 10 per 1,000 people may have tic disorders,[3][4] with the more common tics of eye blinking, coughing, throat clearing, sniffing, and facial movements. People with Tourette's have normal life expectancy and intelligence. The severity of the tics decreases for most children as they pass through adolescence, and extreme Tourette's in adulthood is a rarity. Notable individuals with Tourette's are found in all walks of life
And don't send me any hatemail saying "You know CP, that's not funny. My _________ has Tourette's and you shouldn't make fun of it?
Oh yeah? Suck my tits.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
20 Things I Want You To Hear...
I stole this meme from Miss Britt. Basically what you do, per Britt, is:
"...the blogger makes a list of random things they wish they could say to someone, but they don’t name names. The readers then either join in with their own lists of anonymous statements, or spend the rest of their day trying to figure out who the blogger was hypothetically speaking to. And wondering if it was them."
Britt took the high road and made all the comments positive. Even Avitable managed to do the same. *shudders* I took a screenshot of that because I don't think we will see the likes of that ever again in this lifetime.
So, instead of following along for the lovefest, I am just going to say 20 random things regardless if they sound sappy...or passive aggressive. You may find yourself among the people that I post about.
1. I wish I could be you for a day, just so I would understand why you are the way you are and perhaps, open your mind up just a bit more.
2. I am so glad you have found the happiness you so richly deserve. I don't know anyone who deserves it more than you.
3. I wish we lived closer. I would love to be around you 24/7 because you make me laugh from the soul.
4. I pray for you everyday. You need it.
5. If I were to marry a woman, you would be the one I would choose.
6. You think you are better than me. You're entitled to think that. I prefer to think we are just different. That's all.
7. I never thought I would get over you until the day I woke up and realized that I have. It's very liberating to be out from under your spell.
8. You're a mean person through and through. I don't know how anyone who is so beautiful on the outside can be so bitter and rotten on the inside.
9. You should have been my first. Things would be so much different for me if you had been.
10. You're one of the only people that I allow to treat me like shit. I know you don't mean it. You have more problems than most people...so I cut you some slack.
11. The kindest thing I have ever heard from anyone came from you.
12. I wish I could be more like you. I have so much respect for you and the way you put others before yourself all the time.
13. I should have been there for you more than I was. Perhaps you would still be here with me if I had been.
14. You are a total attention whore. You really don't need to be. If you would just be yourself, people would see you the way I do.
15. I would tell you about the impact you have had on my life if I thought you would care to know.
16. Your struggles are my struggles. I learn a little bit about myself everyday just by watching you.
17. I am proud of you. I should tell you this more often. You deserve to know.
18. I used to beat myself up for the things I did to you. I'm over it now. You should get over it too.
19. For a smart person, you sure do a lot of stupid things.
20. I don't mean to hurt you with the things I say and do. I just think you are a little thin skinned and need to grow up a little bit. You should know me better.
Find yourself among these 20 items? Could be I am talking to you or about you. Feel free to grab one of these and consider it yours. Maybe it is about you after all.
"...the blogger makes a list of random things they wish they could say to someone, but they don’t name names. The readers then either join in with their own lists of anonymous statements, or spend the rest of their day trying to figure out who the blogger was hypothetically speaking to. And wondering if it was them."
Britt took the high road and made all the comments positive. Even Avitable managed to do the same. *shudders* I took a screenshot of that because I don't think we will see the likes of that ever again in this lifetime.
So, instead of following along for the lovefest, I am just going to say 20 random things regardless if they sound sappy...or passive aggressive. You may find yourself among the people that I post about.
1. I wish I could be you for a day, just so I would understand why you are the way you are and perhaps, open your mind up just a bit more.
2. I am so glad you have found the happiness you so richly deserve. I don't know anyone who deserves it more than you.
3. I wish we lived closer. I would love to be around you 24/7 because you make me laugh from the soul.
4. I pray for you everyday. You need it.
5. If I were to marry a woman, you would be the one I would choose.
6. You think you are better than me. You're entitled to think that. I prefer to think we are just different. That's all.
7. I never thought I would get over you until the day I woke up and realized that I have. It's very liberating to be out from under your spell.
8. You're a mean person through and through. I don't know how anyone who is so beautiful on the outside can be so bitter and rotten on the inside.
9. You should have been my first. Things would be so much different for me if you had been.
10. You're one of the only people that I allow to treat me like shit. I know you don't mean it. You have more problems than most people...so I cut you some slack.
11. The kindest thing I have ever heard from anyone came from you.
12. I wish I could be more like you. I have so much respect for you and the way you put others before yourself all the time.
13. I should have been there for you more than I was. Perhaps you would still be here with me if I had been.
14. You are a total attention whore. You really don't need to be. If you would just be yourself, people would see you the way I do.
15. I would tell you about the impact you have had on my life if I thought you would care to know.
16. Your struggles are my struggles. I learn a little bit about myself everyday just by watching you.
17. I am proud of you. I should tell you this more often. You deserve to know.
18. I used to beat myself up for the things I did to you. I'm over it now. You should get over it too.
19. For a smart person, you sure do a lot of stupid things.
20. I don't mean to hurt you with the things I say and do. I just think you are a little thin skinned and need to grow up a little bit. You should know me better.
Find yourself among these 20 items? Could be I am talking to you or about you. Feel free to grab one of these and consider it yours. Maybe it is about you after all.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
about a boy.
His name was Joey. We didn't "date" in the conventional sense. No one really did. We just all kind of "hung out" together. Big group of us, always together. Joey was your typical teenage guy. Lanky, tall, very handsome and very sweet. I was taken with him immediately. The first time he ever kissed me, I saw all those crazy fireworks that writers always talk about. It was an awkward kiss. My braces got caught on his lip. I remember that. I was embarassed, after all, he was an "older" boy and I wanted this kiss with him to be memorable.
Years later, I come to find that it was.
We reconnected on Facebook recently. Apparently, he remembers me with the same fondness that I remember him with.
We carefully talked about those times, being respectful of the fact that we are both now happily married people. But, he did let me know that I got into his head. It's nice to be remembered and to have made even the slightest impression on someone you cared so much about.
When we finally were a bit more intimate, to put it delicately, it was everything that I could have ever asked for. He was sweet, slow and deliberate...careful with me. I never forgot that.
I moved away from Queens a few years later, but never forgot Joey. He was my first love although I never told him that. It was a secret that I kept until now. A reminder of a more innocent time in my life.
Next week, we are having our high school reunion. I will be reconnecting with all the people that were long since put away in my memories. But, I am looking forward to seeing Joey most of all. Even after all these years, he still manages to give me the little girl giggles. Can't help it. It's his puerto rican charm and magnetism. Plus, he is a funny bastard.
In my heart, we will always have those times, those sweet stolen moments of our youth...and it will bond us forever.
Years later, I come to find that it was.
We reconnected on Facebook recently. Apparently, he remembers me with the same fondness that I remember him with.
We carefully talked about those times, being respectful of the fact that we are both now happily married people. But, he did let me know that I got into his head. It's nice to be remembered and to have made even the slightest impression on someone you cared so much about.
When we finally were a bit more intimate, to put it delicately, it was everything that I could have ever asked for. He was sweet, slow and deliberate...careful with me. I never forgot that.
I moved away from Queens a few years later, but never forgot Joey. He was my first love although I never told him that. It was a secret that I kept until now. A reminder of a more innocent time in my life.
Next week, we are having our high school reunion. I will be reconnecting with all the people that were long since put away in my memories. But, I am looking forward to seeing Joey most of all. Even after all these years, he still manages to give me the little girl giggles. Can't help it. It's his puerto rican charm and magnetism. Plus, he is a funny bastard.
In my heart, we will always have those times, those sweet stolen moments of our youth...and it will bond us forever.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Losing friends...
I seem to be saying/doing things to lose friends lately. I recently made a blog post about my daughter becoming pregnant again and how upset I was about the situation. Apparently, I rubbed a long time reader the wrong way with my post and she decided not to read me anymore. That's sad, because I liked this person. I wrote her an email to apologize, but have never heard back from her. I suppose I must have hit a nerve somewhere in HER private life.
Recently, I was poking fun with a bunch of my guy friends on Facebook. These are guys I grew up with and have known since birth, practically. We were all talking about the celebrities who died within days of each other back in June. Kidding around, as old friends do, we started talking about which celebrity we thought would "kick the bucket" next. We were making little wagers. It was all in good albeit morbid fun.
A friend of mine who I met online 15 years ago was also on Facebook at the time. Apparently, she had just gotten some horrible news that her husband was given six months to live. Her husband had been sick for a VERY long time. Literally years. I have always followed their saga and prayed very diligently for them...her for strength and him for health. I love this girl. She means a lot to me. Anyway, she saw our little game on Facebook and became VERY angry. I don't blame her. She "de-friended" me. Hasn't answered my emails of apology.
Got me thinking. The blogger I am referring to...well, she knows my personality from reading this blog for a year or more. I am brutally honest to the point of ad nauseum. I go from the heart to the lips with very few stops in between. I say what I am feeling the moment I am feeling it. Of course, those feelings are always subject to change. For example, my daughter being pregnant with her second baby in as many years is still distressing to me. It is an enormous burden financially on this family. However, she is still my daughter and she is still having my grandchild. I love her unconditionally as I will that baby. I am entitled to have a place to come and vent my frustrations so that I don't say them to my daughter. This is my safe haven...and if you are going to be so judgmental...I suppose I don't really need you here reading my shit after all. Sorry.
Next.
About the other woman...now this one I am really distressed over. I met her online in a chatroom back in 1995 or so. We've never spoke by phone or met in person. We always had a real contemptuous relationship. I am very outgoing and say things that people don't necessarily want to hear. She is more reserved and God-fearing and has much more tact than I do. However, we managed to become friends and over the years have grown to respect one another a great deal. So, when she decided to remove me from her friends because of my "game" with my bawdy male friends...it cut me pretty deep. Of course, there is no way I could have known that she had just received such horrible news. Would I have acted any differently with my guy friends if I knew that? Probably not.
Then again, I don't know. Somewhere along the way...I seem to have grown a conscience.
She won't speak to me...so I shrugged it off knowing that I didn't do anything to intentionally hurt her. She has a lot on her plate right now. She was probably very angry at the news and I was a ripe target for her to vent on. I get that. I'm okay with that.
But then, there is another part of me that has to ask...you KNOW me, Becky. You've known me for 15 years. You know I have prayed with you and for you when it comes to your husband. You know I have always sent emails over the years trying to get updates on his health and how you are faring under all the pressure. If it was so easy to dismiss me due to one faux pas, I suppose we weren't as close as I originally thought. If you thought I was intending to hurt you, you're insane.
I am choosing to forgive myself on this one. I was beating myself up over it...but, I can't do that anymore. I can't live my life wallowing in guilt. It's a wasted emotion and one that I don't do very well.
So, this blog will continue as always...a CP safe zone where I can spew whatever bullshit is laying in my chest and burrowing into my heart. I am not going to suppress the things that I say on my blog because I may inadvertantly strike a nerve with someone. If that were the case, this blog would lay in silence. I am an equal opportunity offender...
and not for the faint hearted. Never have been. Never will be.
Recently, I was poking fun with a bunch of my guy friends on Facebook. These are guys I grew up with and have known since birth, practically. We were all talking about the celebrities who died within days of each other back in June. Kidding around, as old friends do, we started talking about which celebrity we thought would "kick the bucket" next. We were making little wagers. It was all in good albeit morbid fun.
A friend of mine who I met online 15 years ago was also on Facebook at the time. Apparently, she had just gotten some horrible news that her husband was given six months to live. Her husband had been sick for a VERY long time. Literally years. I have always followed their saga and prayed very diligently for them...her for strength and him for health. I love this girl. She means a lot to me. Anyway, she saw our little game on Facebook and became VERY angry. I don't blame her. She "de-friended" me. Hasn't answered my emails of apology.
Got me thinking. The blogger I am referring to...well, she knows my personality from reading this blog for a year or more. I am brutally honest to the point of ad nauseum. I go from the heart to the lips with very few stops in between. I say what I am feeling the moment I am feeling it. Of course, those feelings are always subject to change. For example, my daughter being pregnant with her second baby in as many years is still distressing to me. It is an enormous burden financially on this family. However, she is still my daughter and she is still having my grandchild. I love her unconditionally as I will that baby. I am entitled to have a place to come and vent my frustrations so that I don't say them to my daughter. This is my safe haven...and if you are going to be so judgmental...I suppose I don't really need you here reading my shit after all. Sorry.
Next.
About the other woman...now this one I am really distressed over. I met her online in a chatroom back in 1995 or so. We've never spoke by phone or met in person. We always had a real contemptuous relationship. I am very outgoing and say things that people don't necessarily want to hear. She is more reserved and God-fearing and has much more tact than I do. However, we managed to become friends and over the years have grown to respect one another a great deal. So, when she decided to remove me from her friends because of my "game" with my bawdy male friends...it cut me pretty deep. Of course, there is no way I could have known that she had just received such horrible news. Would I have acted any differently with my guy friends if I knew that? Probably not.
Then again, I don't know. Somewhere along the way...I seem to have grown a conscience.
She won't speak to me...so I shrugged it off knowing that I didn't do anything to intentionally hurt her. She has a lot on her plate right now. She was probably very angry at the news and I was a ripe target for her to vent on. I get that. I'm okay with that.
But then, there is another part of me that has to ask...you KNOW me, Becky. You've known me for 15 years. You know I have prayed with you and for you when it comes to your husband. You know I have always sent emails over the years trying to get updates on his health and how you are faring under all the pressure. If it was so easy to dismiss me due to one faux pas, I suppose we weren't as close as I originally thought. If you thought I was intending to hurt you, you're insane.
I am choosing to forgive myself on this one. I was beating myself up over it...but, I can't do that anymore. I can't live my life wallowing in guilt. It's a wasted emotion and one that I don't do very well.
So, this blog will continue as always...a CP safe zone where I can spew whatever bullshit is laying in my chest and burrowing into my heart. I am not going to suppress the things that I say on my blog because I may inadvertantly strike a nerve with someone. If that were the case, this blog would lay in silence. I am an equal opportunity offender...
and not for the faint hearted. Never have been. Never will be.
Friday, July 10, 2009
What planet are these chicks from anyway?
I have insomnia. I stay up all night long and a good portion of the day as well. Sometimes, I do this for days at a time. I've gotten used to keeping vampire hours. My friends and family wonder how I survive on 5 hours sleep for 2 days, but it's just what I am accustomed to.
Given that, I watch a lot of late night television.
There are always ads on for weight loss programs. Infomercials, if you will. All these women on TV who were 150 pounds heavier, but now are in bikinis showing off their weight loss.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know it can be done. Thing is...these chicks always seem to have these rock hard bodies. Solid abs you could bounce a quarter on. An ass that is practically between their shoulder blades. Tits up to their throats...and it begs the question:
What fucking planet are these girls living on?
I have done a lot of plastic surgery in my years as a nurse. Breast augmentation, lipo, tummy tucks, arm tucks, ass lifts, breast lifts...you name it, I've pulled it, pushed it, tucked it or moved it around. I see women all the time who have lost 100-200 pounds of unwanted fat. And they all have ONE thing in common.
Their skin HANGS. HANGS. Literally drapes over their bodies.
Never once have I seen a woman lose that much weight and not have hanging skin on her body, surely not flat enough to end up in a bikini on National Television. Sure, you saw Kirstie Alley do it, but she also had lipo and a tummy tuck, something not readily available to us women who are financially challenged. But just some woman off the street? No. And it is in this belief that women always feel they are failing themselves. They figure they lose some weight and that their body should be bikini ready. I'm not talking about those of you who are a size 6 and are trying to get down to a 4. I am talking about us girls who are a size 16 and trying to get down to a 10. Hell, even a 12!
People marvel at my sister in law. She's pushed out three kids and still is a tiny size 2 at 40 years old. Well, hello? She was a ZERO to start with! To throw 10 pounds on someone that tiny is barely enough to call her voluptuous now, ya know? If anything, it finally gave her a set of tits. Oh my, does God have a sense of humor or what?
I was never a tiny girl. Ever. Wasn't obese as a teenager, but I definately always had a tummy on me. My girlfriends were size 2 and 4 while I was a curvier size 8. I always embraced my curves. Never had a problem with them...
until now.
I am so sick and tired of these commercials that show products for cellulite removal and then show a stick figure who probably never had a lump, bump or bulge her entire life, showing off the product! Come on, even my aforementioned sister in law has a little pucker or two on her ass.
So Ladies, embrace your puckers, lumps, bumps and bulges. Be brave enough to bare all and say, this is me! You don't like it? Don't look!
And they probably won't.
Some chick in a thong who's a size 2 will walk by...and your troubles will be over.
Given that, I watch a lot of late night television.
There are always ads on for weight loss programs. Infomercials, if you will. All these women on TV who were 150 pounds heavier, but now are in bikinis showing off their weight loss.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know it can be done. Thing is...these chicks always seem to have these rock hard bodies. Solid abs you could bounce a quarter on. An ass that is practically between their shoulder blades. Tits up to their throats...and it begs the question:
What fucking planet are these girls living on?
I have done a lot of plastic surgery in my years as a nurse. Breast augmentation, lipo, tummy tucks, arm tucks, ass lifts, breast lifts...you name it, I've pulled it, pushed it, tucked it or moved it around. I see women all the time who have lost 100-200 pounds of unwanted fat. And they all have ONE thing in common.
Their skin HANGS. HANGS. Literally drapes over their bodies.
Never once have I seen a woman lose that much weight and not have hanging skin on her body, surely not flat enough to end up in a bikini on National Television. Sure, you saw Kirstie Alley do it, but she also had lipo and a tummy tuck, something not readily available to us women who are financially challenged. But just some woman off the street? No. And it is in this belief that women always feel they are failing themselves. They figure they lose some weight and that their body should be bikini ready. I'm not talking about those of you who are a size 6 and are trying to get down to a 4. I am talking about us girls who are a size 16 and trying to get down to a 10. Hell, even a 12!
People marvel at my sister in law. She's pushed out three kids and still is a tiny size 2 at 40 years old. Well, hello? She was a ZERO to start with! To throw 10 pounds on someone that tiny is barely enough to call her voluptuous now, ya know? If anything, it finally gave her a set of tits. Oh my, does God have a sense of humor or what?
I was never a tiny girl. Ever. Wasn't obese as a teenager, but I definately always had a tummy on me. My girlfriends were size 2 and 4 while I was a curvier size 8. I always embraced my curves. Never had a problem with them...
until now.
I am so sick and tired of these commercials that show products for cellulite removal and then show a stick figure who probably never had a lump, bump or bulge her entire life, showing off the product! Come on, even my aforementioned sister in law has a little pucker or two on her ass.
So Ladies, embrace your puckers, lumps, bumps and bulges. Be brave enough to bare all and say, this is me! You don't like it? Don't look!
And they probably won't.
Some chick in a thong who's a size 2 will walk by...and your troubles will be over.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Google "52"...
and you get certain facts. There are 52 weeks in a year. 52 cards in a deck. A lot of really stupid people seem to think there are 52 states in our country. Why, I don't know. As of June 5th, there were 52 states and territories with cases of Swine Flu. Your results may vary. There is a Title 52 which deals with the Board of Elections or some sort of nonsense that not even Congress knows. There is Local 52 which is the Union of Motion Picture Studio Mechanics (they have a Union, but nurses don't?) There is Cotton v. Congress article 52. I bookmarked this in case I need to be bored to death someday.
So why am I rambling about 52?
I am 52 days clean and sober. Yeah. Clean AND sober. Simultaneously.
I know Narcotics Anonymous "recommends" that you don't count your days. Your supposed to "live for the day" and only that day counts.
Fuck that shit.
I made it through 52 days of my grandaughter smiling. 52 days of snuggling with the husband I recognize now. 52 days of cracking up with my son. 52 days of watching my daughter be an awesome mother. 52 days of sitting upright. 52 days of not nodding off mid-sentence. 52 glorious mother fucking days that I now OWN. They're MINE and no one and nothing shall take them from me.
I am celebrating 52 today. And if I google 52 in about 52 years from right now, I hope to see this post sitting there.
I have 52 awesome reasons to live...and counting.
So why am I rambling about 52?
I am 52 days clean and sober. Yeah. Clean AND sober. Simultaneously.
I know Narcotics Anonymous "recommends" that you don't count your days. Your supposed to "live for the day" and only that day counts.
Fuck that shit.
I made it through 52 days of my grandaughter smiling. 52 days of snuggling with the husband I recognize now. 52 days of cracking up with my son. 52 days of watching my daughter be an awesome mother. 52 days of sitting upright. 52 days of not nodding off mid-sentence. 52 glorious mother fucking days that I now OWN. They're MINE and no one and nothing shall take them from me.
I am celebrating 52 today. And if I google 52 in about 52 years from right now, I hope to see this post sitting there.
I have 52 awesome reasons to live...and counting.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Friday, July 03, 2009
Yesterday was my daughters birthday...
she's 22 now. My little cow. (I've called her that since she was a baby. She used to make this mooing sound that was very funny). I can't get over it. 22 and a mother (to be) of two children. She is a phenomenal mom. A lot better than I was at that age. She plays with her daughter every single day. Me? I was more interested in partying at that age. I remember my 21st birthday. Couldn't go out and celebrate with a legal drink because I was nursing her. She was the only one doing any legal drinking THAT night.
I recall her, most fondly, being four years old. She was an absolute angel. Hair down to the middle of her back, she was my own little doll. I used to dress her like me. We wore matching outfits quite a bit. Jackets with leggings, shoulder pads (shut up, it was the 80's) with leggings and granny boots. People used to think she was my little sister as opposed to my daughter.
When she hit her teens, I was worried shitless. Would I be able to get her through high school unscathed? I did. No sex before she was 18. She never did drugs. Never smoked a cigarette. The worst thing she did was get shit-faced at a party with her friends. She called me for a ride home...and vomited all over the place. I had to take her to the hospital to have her on IV fluids. She never drank again after that...and I was relieved.
Now, at 22...she is the epitome of a "good kid". The only thing she has done wrong is get pregnant again...a little too soon. But, she has a great husband and beautiful daughter to show for it. I only hope that her daughter is a fraction as wonderful as she is.
Happy birthday, Samantha. May all your dreams continue to come true.
Love always, Mama the whale.
I recall her, most fondly, being four years old. She was an absolute angel. Hair down to the middle of her back, she was my own little doll. I used to dress her like me. We wore matching outfits quite a bit. Jackets with leggings, shoulder pads (shut up, it was the 80's) with leggings and granny boots. People used to think she was my little sister as opposed to my daughter.
When she hit her teens, I was worried shitless. Would I be able to get her through high school unscathed? I did. No sex before she was 18. She never did drugs. Never smoked a cigarette. The worst thing she did was get shit-faced at a party with her friends. She called me for a ride home...and vomited all over the place. I had to take her to the hospital to have her on IV fluids. She never drank again after that...and I was relieved.
Now, at 22...she is the epitome of a "good kid". The only thing she has done wrong is get pregnant again...a little too soon. But, she has a great husband and beautiful daughter to show for it. I only hope that her daughter is a fraction as wonderful as she is.
Happy birthday, Samantha. May all your dreams continue to come true.
Love always, Mama the whale.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
I am going to be a grandmother...AGAIN!
I think I should invest in a condom stock for my son in law. My grandaughter, Sadie, is only 8 months old. The two of them live in one room in my house, with that baby. Now she announces that she is pregnant...again. My daughter is now officially a breeding cow. I am just getting used to having one baby in the house...who, despite my loving her more than life, is a cranky and needy little thing. I cannot imagine having another one move into my house.
On the upside, I am 47 days clean and sober. Thank God for my sobriety for if it were not for that, I would probably be using IV heroin by now to dull the senses.
Little Ms. Pro life is certain that she will not be terminating this pregnancy cause it's "mean". Mean? No, you know what's mean? Having a SEVENTH mouth to feed in this house. *eye roll*
I hope there is enough cash to go around. I know there's enough love...but ya can't pay the mortgage on love alone. I think I shall throw them out into the street and tell them to fend for themselves.
Nah. I don't have that in me. But, I will be getting them a box of condoms for their birthdays. Maybe shove a nice Nuvaring into her crotch. Better yet, a vasectomy for my son in law for his birthday. That would be nice. Tie a knot in the shit so that this won't happen again.
Two grandkids and I am only 42 years old. How did I get here?
On the upside, I am 47 days clean and sober. Thank God for my sobriety for if it were not for that, I would probably be using IV heroin by now to dull the senses.
Little Ms. Pro life is certain that she will not be terminating this pregnancy cause it's "mean". Mean? No, you know what's mean? Having a SEVENTH mouth to feed in this house. *eye roll*
I hope there is enough cash to go around. I know there's enough love...but ya can't pay the mortgage on love alone. I think I shall throw them out into the street and tell them to fend for themselves.
Nah. I don't have that in me. But, I will be getting them a box of condoms for their birthdays. Maybe shove a nice Nuvaring into her crotch. Better yet, a vasectomy for my son in law for his birthday. That would be nice. Tie a knot in the shit so that this won't happen again.
Two grandkids and I am only 42 years old. How did I get here?
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