Introducing the Redneck Sisterhood, Part One

I learned a very long time ago, I ain't everyone's cup of tea.  I am kinda loud, highly opinionated and extremely sarcastic.  Apply a generous dose of conservative, a red head's temper and a higher IQ than the average redneck...I have a tendency to get on people's last nerve easily.  I am not a college graduate but I speak (and write) on a fairly intelligent level, and I expect it of the people I have to be around.

I have found the people who actually take the time to get to know me think I am sorta cool.  For someone who has struggled all of their life to get people to like her, it is a great feeling.  This is one of the reasons I love my little crew of close friends I refer to as the Redneck Sisterhood.  They are all my best friends.  Each of them fills a very distinct niche in my life.  Let me introduce you to a few of them...because I know I will write about them in the future.

Some of the members are family: Mom; Lil' Sis; the Babygirl and T.

My mother is one of the most awesome women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  She has always been a tough task master - having 5 kids within 7 years made that necessary.  We always knew we were loved but we always knew what was expected of us.  There was ALWAYS discipline in our house growing up, and truth be told, there still is regardless of our ages (50 to 43).  My mom spent several years devoted to my dad during his illness.  When he died about 2 years ago, we discovered who truly was the strength in our family.  I assumed it was Daddy.  I realized it wasn't by watching my beautiful mother come to terms with the loss of her spouse of 50 years.  I found a brand new respect for her during that time and my undying devotion to my mom has grown exponentially since then.  She is a wonder, an amazement of nature and the strongest person I have ever known!

Lil' Sis is literally my little sister.  She is the pretty one, the strong one, the smart one.  She took college courses, ran a household, raised a child and a husband, all on a limited income.  Her son has grown to be a gentleman of the highest ilk, though he is very much a home-grown country boy.  Her husband has been become an excellent house husband, because he had to retire early due to disability.  My sister goes out, helps a friend start a thriving business, and brings home the funds to run their home.   Through marital discord and illness, I have watched her grow and develop into a fantastic example of who I would like to be when I finally grow up.

The Babygirl is my niece.  She is blond and beautiful, smart and funny.  At 19 years old, the whole world is laid out at her feet.  She can take it by storm if she tries.  She graduated at the top of her high school class, earned scholarship after scholarship to go to college, was accepted by some of the best schools the East Coast (the country) has to offer.  It is all there for the taking...and I highly anticipate her next move.

The T is my ex-sister-in-law & Babygirl's mom.  Yes, I said ex-sister-in-law.  She is one of my best friends. There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to drop kick her into the second Tuesday of next week but she already knows that.  She has been one of my strongest non-blood supporters since high school.  She has gotten me through some very difficult times just be being willing to listen to me bitch, complain and get shit off of my chest.  She is a pretty woman and goes no where without looking 100% her best if she can help it.  We are kind of a Mutt n Jeff pair if we go anywhere together.  Everything about her is usually 'just so' while I am more like a 'come as you are' sort.  She is one of the people that tells me I am beautiful, even when I am feeling uglier than ever.  It may be odd to have an ex-sister-in-law for a best friend, but I wouldn't trade her for the world.

There are other members of the Redneck Sisterhood.  This is some of them.  Tomorrow I will tell you about few of the other women who have worked hard to try and make me a better person.  I love them all and will enjoy sharing stories of them with you.

Grumblin' about the Rumble

I am one very seriously pissed off Ryback fan!!    
         

Once again the WWE has chosen to screw over the Beast.  First Hell in a Cell, where he was punched in the nuts by a "rogue" referee named Brad Maddox.  Then Survivor Series when he was subjected to a power bomb administered by The Shield (the latest pack of jackals w/a sneak attack program).  This time it is in favor of the company's number 1 face, Mr. HustleLoyaltyRespect himself, John Cena.

I looked forward to the Royal Rumble for weeks.  It begged to set Ryback further above the current stock of new blood in the professional wrestling world.  He has busted ass to achieve the recognition that the WWE seems set to keep just out of his reach, like the prize above the ring at a TLC match.

I would like to think that it was a fluke that Cena won.  Highly unlikely, considering the favor he continues to have with 'the universe's' management.  The look of shock on Cena's face as Ryback hit the floor outside of the squared circle was comparable to mine.  But really...he ain't that good of an actor (ever see the movie The Marine?). 

Nope, I think the intention is clear...Cena is still the 'pretty boy' to destroy in the WWE Universe.  With the circumstances surrounding this evening's events, I sincerely hope I get the opportunity to see Ryback destroy the annoying Mr. Babyface and send him into a permanent retirement...soon!

***On a happier note...CM Punk finally lost the championship belt.  Unfortunately, it was to the supreme part-timer, The Rock.  Wrestlemania will be Cena & Rock part deux...yuck!


Author/Editor note....7/4/13...I now like Punk, and Cena still sucks!

Wrestling, Ryback and the Bucket List

       THE ROYAL RUMBLE IS TOMORROW!!  Can you tell I am excited??

     I watched professional wrestling as a kid.  I'm a redneck for shit's sake.  I can remember watching Haystacks Calhoun, Chief Jay Strongbow and others, with Granny (no kiddin', we called her Granny).  It was a take it or leave it proposition though.  I didn't get all caught up.

      Back then there wasn't nearly the designed drama of today's WWE.  I kept watching well into my teen years.  In fact, I can remember watching Hulk Hogan, Macho Man Randy Savage, etc., and loving it.  The Hulkster won his first Championship belt in the WWE (then the WWF) in 1984, which was a banner year for me for a variety reasons.

     Advance forward a year or two...I had stopped watching wrestling.  I started to call it lame, fake...you know, all the things most detractors say about professional wrestling.  I had better things to do, trying to get a life.  Work, some school, a few dates, births, deaths...same thing everyone else gets to do.

     Bring it even further forward, around 2012.  Friends had come.  Friends had gone.  One particularly had returned.  My evil redheaded twin and I had reconnected a year or two before through Facebook.  She is also a wrasslin' fan.  It had become a ritual to talk or text every evening.  On a Monday evening in the spring of last year, she was once again harassing me about watching Monday Night RAW.  Okay, I live alone, with two cats.  Television is typical evening's entertainment.  I had always found something else to watch on Monday night.

     This evening I caved, partly just to shut her up, partly out of curiosity.  'Fine, I will watch RAW.'  What a fateful evening, for this Monday evening included an appearance by the WWE's latest phenomenon. Enter Ryback...all 6'3", 291 lbs of pure muscled intensity with the sweetest ass I have seen on any guy in a long time.  Damn!  Double damn!!

     I rarely crush on anyone...seriously...been there, done that.  I have to admit to my 'little' obsession with Ryback.  He is the reason I now watch wrestling, often.  He is also the reason many of my Facebook friends roll their eyes and shudder when they see my name in their notifications list.

     Part of my obsessive nature is to find out as much as I can about whatever it is that interests me.  I've done my research.  Here is what I have discovered: Ryan 'Ryback' Reeves is a force to be reckoned with, in and out of the ring.  He has a strong will, a powerful drive to succeed and the work ethic to make it happen.    Plus he seems to be a genuinely all around nice guy.  Add to that the whole physical package he presents and, I suppose, I picked a great one to follow.

    My previously mentioned evil redheaded twin (or ERT, for short) has been a nearly rabid fan of Randy Orton (the Viper & Legend Killer) and Sheamus (the Celtic Warrior) for some time.  WWE pay per views give me a chance to hang out with her and her family.  Tomorrow evening, the Beast from Sin City, the Viper and the Celtic Warrior are all participating in the Royal Rumble...a 30 man elimination match where participants have to get others out of the ring by putting them over the top rope.  If the feet hit the floor, they are done.  It is the first time that any of our favorites will actually be against each other in a match.  Both of us are very vocal supporters of our favorites.  It is gonna get loud!!  ERT and I may likely clear the room with all of our cheering and screaming.

     I have added 'Meeting Ryback' to my bucket list, which ERT finds amusing, my family finds sad and others think is stupid.  I know I would stand there mute, with nothing but my teeth in my gums, but I still would like to meet him someday.  Till that opportunity arrives, I will continue to piss off the downstairs neighbors by yelling at my TV when Ryback wrestles some dumb ass who thinks he can beat him in a straight match, screaming at the (CM) Punk who beats him by opportunistic interruptions (The fuckin' jerk!!) and generally making a fool of myself by posting pics to my Timeline and Pinterest board.  If determination can get Ryback to the Main Event, maybe a little determination will help me check off an item on my bucket list.

   

 





   

For Bug

     A few weeks ago, I lost a huge chunk of my heart when I had to have one of my precious fur-kids put to sleep.  It has always puzzled me where they got the term 'put to sleep' from, because to me, it has always been similar to committing murder.  Unfortunately, I finally came to the realization of how the phrase came to be.

   

     ShadowBug had been my sweet soul and confidante for nearly 16 years before she became ill.  Cancer had arrived quickly, violently, forcing my hand.  To have allowed her to suffer would have been abuse.

     Her fear of a strange place, with weird smells, scary sounds and unknown people caused her adrenalin to flow freely.  Cats are not supposed to pant but difficulty breathing and sheer terror had her struggling to stay calm, so she was panting hard.  When the terrible moment came to administer the fatal injection, there was so much adrenalin in Bug's system that the shot only served to calm her and make her sleep.  The technician asked if I wanted a second injection given.  I agreed, tears rolling.  I knew there was no turning back no matter how long it took.  After the second injection, Bug's heart continued beating.  Her lungs kept moving, in and out.  One technician went for the vet, the other went the waiting room to retrieve my wonderful mom, who had come to be my support but refused to stay in the exam room as the dark deed was done.  I tried not to fall to a billion small pieces, but it was impossible.  My mother came into the room and I clung to her like I was her little girl again instead of the middle aged woman I am.

     When the second technician returned with the veterinarian, he examined Bug and determined she was in a drug induced coma.  A third injection would have to be administered.  Once that was done, it was merely moments and my feline heart was gone.

     My Bug, all 7 and a half pounds of her, took 15 minutes to make her grand entrance at the Rainbow Bridge.  The vet said the excess adrenalin in her system, and the poor circulation through her neck because of the tumor growing there, had created the interminable descent into death for my girl.

     That phrase, 'put to sleep', meant to place a polite connotation on a horrible experience for a pet owner...I fully understand it now...and I hate it even more.
 

A Pets Prayer
If it should be, that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then, you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can't be won.
Don't let your grief stay your hand,

For this day more than the rest,
Your love and friendship stand the test.
We've had so many years,
What is to come can hold no fear.
You'd not want me to suffer, so
When the time comes, please let me go.

Take me where my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me to the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you'll see it is a kindness you do for me
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I've been saved.

Don't grieve it should be you who this thing decides to do.
We've been so close, we two, these years,
Don't let your heart hold tears.
SMILE, FOR WE WALKED TOGETHER FOR AWHILE.

Author Unknown

Introductions

     

Before you roll your eyes and wonder WTF?, allow me to introduce myself.  I was born and raised in middle America, in the mid Atlantic, the middle child of five.  I am a descendant of the Mayflower pilgrims and high society Philly, with a member of my family tree having reached the highest political office in the nation.  I am also a descendant of hard working immigrant farmers who barely got by, who had enough children to run the family farm for decades and who made boot leg whiskey to have enough money to live.  I am the result of centuries worth of the American dream.  

     I am single.  I am owned by two cats.  I am a believer in salvation by grace.  I swear.  I am loud.  I am independent but strongly conservative.  I am bipolar.  I am NOT always polite.  I have never given birth but I have dozens of 'children' and 'grandchildren'.  I listen to whatever kind of music tickles my fancy for the moment.  I smoke.  I am overweight.  I dye my hair because I hate the color gray.  I have friends who think I am wonderful but crazy.  I have enemies who think I am psychotic.  I follow the WWE.  I watch football.  I read books like The Scarlet Pimpernel, Jane Eyre, The Complete Collection of Shakespeare, and A Brave New World.  I have also read every one of the Harry Potter books, the Shades of Grey trilogy and the Twilight series.  My all time favorite character from a book is Hannibal Lecter. 
  
     Are you starting to get the picture?   

     I do not behave like anyone else you have ever known.  I am sensitive and cry.  I will hit you on the back of the head if I think you need it.  I will give you a hug and whisper in your ear to stop being such a fuckin' jackass.  I do not take kindly to stupidity.  You give me (or anyone I care about) a hard time and I will treble it before I send it back your way.

     I am blogging for my own entertainment and to maintain my sanity.  I will be thoughtful occasionally.  I will tell little tales from my life.  I will state my opinions.  I may even write about my 'little' obsession with my favorite wrestler.  I will be wordy now and then, short and to the point other times.  I will use foul language if I want to, but not just because I can.  I will be myself.  

     Follow if you wish.  Don't follow me if you intend only to give me a blast of under-educated bull shit constantly.  I don't necessarily care what your opinions are, but I welcome intelligent discourse on a variety of subjects.  I enjoy a battle of wits as long as my opponent is equally armed.  

     End of introduction