The Scheme of Things

People like me have to be reminded of their place...

We are never first, rarely second, seldom third....typically not even in the top five of anything going on in our own life.  We are taught hard lessons to remind us of our place in the order of the universe.  We are required to know our role, and not buck up against it.  When we forget, it hurts.

I got such a reminder today...one I won't forget.  I'll add it to the other lessons I have learned over the course of my life.  Some people have no reason to dream very big...because those dreams rarely come true.  I'll leave what's broken where it fell, and keep moving, like I always do.  I will replace the guards that I had allowed to drop, fix the chinks in the armor so they can't ever be found again.  There will be new stitches, then new scars, but they will hold together the small piece that is left of my heart.

Meanwhile...

I will continue to work toward my adjusted goals: weight loss; my degree; trying to get some sleep; surviving being alone in this world.

I'll keep cheering on Ryback.  He lost tonight's match but he pretty much rocked the bout till the end.  His opponent got lucky, because that's how the script was written.

I am now under 200 pounds.  I made it to 197 today.  A small, kind of hollow victory, but a victory all the same.

I guess it's something, in my scheme of things.

     

Something Greater...

You can be bold and beautiful.....

....or a part of the crowd.

Either way, we are always a part of something that is greater...even when we are most alone.  We are siblings, spouses/lovers, friends, enemies, co-workers...human.  We can fight side by side or go it alone, but we still remain a part of the larger world around us.  

Technology has made this world a much smaller place.  We can be instantly in touch with friends and loved ones half a world away.  We are never alone, if we do not want to be.  There is always someone to reach out to, if we want that contact.  Even if we don't, there is always someone out there who will be concerned that you are okay.  

We can CHOOSE to be a part, or not.  We can CHOOSE to be happy, or not.  We can CHOOSE to reach out, and lend a helping hand to those who need it...or not.  

We can stand out or we can blend in.  

   

Family

Family...the place where a person belongs, for most people.  Some people have to make their own family, whether it is having a spouse/significant other and children, or a close group of friends...it is the place where they come to belong.

I belong...

There is my blood family.  My grandparents and Daddy have died, but I am lucky enough to still have the rest of my family here.  My Mom, three brothers, a sister, a sister in law, a brother in law, three handsome nephews and two beautiful nieces.  I have three uncles, three aunts and a truckload of cousins.  I love every one of them with all of my heart.  We don't always get along, believe me!  Sometimes it takes a lot of courage for me to go to a family get together, because I am the odd one of the family.  For the most part, I'm kinda proud of that.  It has caused some real problems in the past, though.  They have finally learned that I am always going to be myself, a person apart from them.  My identity no longer hinges on what they think of me.  That was a big change, a very big change, I made for myself.  Now, I try to have fun with being different from them.  Makes for some entertaining meals...LOL!!!  Well, entertaining for me at least.

You have all read my introductions of my Redneck Sisterhood.  They are my best friends here at home.  Several live a little distance away, but when we can get together with everyone else in the crew, we have a blast.  They pick me up and dust me off when I need it.  They have been known to kick my ass a time or two.  They are beautiful, funny and very important to my existence.  Even the blood family that is a part of that group has realized that in my element, I am a world apart from everyone else out there.  I will sit back and quietly watch as they all joke and laugh, knowing that I was the key to bringing them all together.  It is an interesting sense of power.

There is another family that I am proud to say I belong to...the Rybacker family.  Don't laugh!  It's not just me that has a little obsession for the Beast from Sin City.  There's over a half a million on Twitter alone that follow him, talk about him, share pictures of him and wait impatiently for each tweet or interview post.  Not that I have become friends with 600k fans...by no means at all.  There is that little group that I've written about before...and they have each brought so much to my mundane existence.  I enjoy my conversations with them.  They have made me laugh, tolerated my bad moods, my 'Eeyore' like behavior, and listened to my advice.  They keep me entertained and make me feel needed, like only friends can.  It doesn't matter to me that our contact is strictly via technology.  There are days when the friendships I have developed with them are more real than the friendships I have with those nearby.  They talk to me and I can talk to them.  I can't say that about the RS (w/exception to one) all the time and I definitely can't talk to my family about most things, even to this day.  I must shout out to my Sisters and my Brutha (as he puts it).  They all mean the world to me, and hopefully at some point I will get to give them the honest to goodness hugs they truly deserve.

Yes, I belong and I am better for it.  I will always fight feeling lonely at times but I know I have FAMILY I can turn to when it gets really bad.  And I love them all because of that.

Writing It Out

Apparently, by the way I've been feeling today, writing about the picture of my dad with my brother and nephew didn't actually work.  I'm gonna try it again...so bare with me.

It's not necessarily the picture that caused the problem.  It is a mountain of things.  The picture was just a catalyst, I suppose.  Today has been a blue day.   I have blue days.  We all have blue days.  It is the nature of being human.  Some can put it aside more easily than others.  I am not one of those people.

One thing can be a trigger.  Doesn't take much...maybe a photograph?  The 'trigger' always brings a bunch of 'friends' with it, and I'm off to the races...or at least my brain is off to the races.  Then every good thing, every positive thing seems to hide for a little while.  All that races through my head are all the dumb things, all the sad things, all the awful things that have happened in my life.  Every good thing becomes suspect.  Every positive thing becomes questionable.  I tend to withdraw from people, especially the ones that may give me grief over my negative attitude.  

I am consistently inconsistent.  I think it is partly due to my bipolar disorder (SURPRISE!!) and partly because of who I have been in the past.  My family has not always been great.  I have had friends let me down.  I've had my heart broken by people that didn't deserve my loving them as much as I did.  We have all been there.  I just tend to forget that I can choose to be happy and the negative stuff creeps up, like some horrible infection.  If I don't treat it, it becomes septic.

I started this blog as a way of writing out the good things as reminders, and writing out the sad or bad things to get them out of my system.  People read it, remarkably enough!  That still blows my mind, LOL!!

I've worked hard to get where I am: a newbie gym rat; a college student; a usually (but not always) happy person.  I'm also a cute but temperamental redhead with an ornery streak that is as wide as the Mississippi River, and it is just as long.  I've lost over 100 pounds in the last year, and I made it a point to do that the right way.  I changed long ago learned habits because I made up my mind to be successful.  The only bad habit I have (besides mentally beating myself up) is that I am a smoker.  That is the next bad habit on the chopping block.

Okay, I do have a great family.  They drive me crazy sometimes with the functional dysfunction thing, but I wouldn't have them any other way.  I have the most wonderful friends in the world, both near and far.  I am very successful with most anything when I set my mind to do it.  Why do I let myself be my own punching bag?  Damned if I know.

I suppose I have another really bad habit to break.  You know, the one where I let the silliest things get me down.  It's nuts to do this to myself.  It needs to stop.

Maybe I should put that habit on the chopping block next, instead of the smoking, LOL!  Oh yeah...I promised I'd quit.  Shit!  Alright, I will just work on both them, I guess.  Seems I could probably do it.  May have to push the wild n crazy side forward a little more to avoid the somber n grumpy side that has been visiting today.

You know, sometimes it is a matter of taking a detour out and around things...of just writing it out.

Out of the blue

Sometimes, something will come along from out of the blue and hit you so hard in the figurative gut that it takes your breath away.  The picture on the left did just that to me this evening.  It is an old photo, worn and bent from time.  In the photo are three people who mean the world to me.

The first person my eyes landed on in this picture is my wonderful nephew, Jordon.  I look at him now, over twenty years later, and I am amazed he was ever that small.  He is a big, big fella these days...over six feet tall and about 275 pounds.  There's a lot to love both literally and figuratively speaking.  As big a man as he has become in stature, he has an equally big heart.  He will rescue most any animal in need, including possums (yuck!).  He gives bear hugs like no one else I know.  He has a quick humor and loves to laugh.  Plus, Jordon is so handsome, not that I'm prejudiced or anything.

My nephew is sitting on the shoulders of his dad, my brother Matt.  Mind you, again I may be prejudiced, but my brother Matt is first class big brother and a really good dad.  When Mom went back to work, Matt became our surrogate parent.  With both parents working and our oldest brother in college, Matt took care of the three younger kids in the family.  He was a Mr. Mom like no other.  We did our chores.  We did our homework.  We did what we were told because being in trouble with him was almost as bad as being in trouble with our parents.  He is a handsome man with a kind and generous spirit, but a whole lot of bad temper if you push him too far.  Trust me...myself and my younger siblings, we pushed.

He brought a great deal of fun into my childhood too.  I can remember one night, stringing tiny Christmas lights all around the living room.  I dressed up my ten year old little sister like a Barbie doll: teased hair; makeup; a fancy dress fashioned from a bed sheet and a pair of heels a thousand times too big.  Matt dressed up in his best dress pants with a beautiful dress shirt and vest.  He hung a gold chain around his neck.  He spit shined his black leather loafers.  When they were all decked out, we turned on the twinkle lights and magically the living room of our old farmhouse became a disco (hey, it was like 1980 or so).  I spun the platters, if you will...the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack and a whole lot of 45's, lol.  We had an absolute blast.

Matt is also the first person to 'let' me smoke, but we won't go there.  Let's just say it involved a bit of sisterly blackmail (I'm telling MOM!!).  He doesn't smoke except when he drinks, and that's not often anymore.  I still smoke...

The figure in the picture that made my heart stop is the one in the blue t-shirt.  It's my daddy.  I know you can't see his face.

Some of you already know Daddy doesn't live in this world anymore.  He has been gone for a little over two years.  I miss him so much that sometimes my heart feels like it could explode right in my chest.  There is so much about my life that has changed recently that I want to share with him, and I can't...not directly at least.  I know he sees what's going on, and I know he is proud of me.  But to be able to hear his voice again, to have him tell me he is proud of me one more time, I think I would give nearly anything.

Daddy was a larger than life figure to me.  He was Daddy, after all.  He wasn't a tall man, about five nine, five ten, but to me he was a giant.  He wasn't perfect either.  He could be as temperamental as mule and just as loud.  He had this look he gave when we did something we shouldn't have that could stop your blood right in the vein.  BUT...

My daddy was a man with a heart of gold, encased in platinum.  Just having him as my daddy made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  He had tremendously big arms, built by back breaking work in the hot sun when he wasn't at his drawing board as a mechanical engineer.  He worked hard at two or three different jobs at a time to keep us fed and clothed.

I remember one night, some friends of my parents were visiting.  The man and my dad got to comparing biceps.  Of course, the man insisted his upper arms were bigger than Daddy's.  Mom got out a tape measure.  After the measuring was done, it was discovered that not only were my dad's arms bigger but they were significantly bigger.  When Hulk Hogan use to brag about his 22 inch pythons, I would giggle to myself and think "My daddy's arms are bigger than Hulk Hogans!"  Daddy's arms measured 25 inches around.  He had the broad shoulders and chest to go along with them.  He could have a kid hanging off of each arm and think nothing of walking around the house like no one was there.  When Daddy hugged you, you knew you were hugged.

He wasn't perfect as a person, but he was a perfect Daddy.

Old photographs can be a fantastic walk down Memory Lane, and sometimes that walk is a little painful.  Modern technology allows for pics to be shot and shared so quickly that they seem to have lost something.  I love receiving pictures from my friends but it is a treat to take out the boxes or albums full of my family history, to remember the people that I love and have lost along the way to where I am now.  I find the occasional kick in the 'gut' to be an excruciatingly wonderful thing.  That kick makes me remember who I was, and who I have become over the years.

I think Daddy would be proud.  I already know my big brother and my nephew are.






 

Wannabe

Obviously, I am a wannabe.  I blog.  I am a wannabe writer.  I have worked hard to lose over 100 pounds at this point, so I am a wannabe skinny girl.  I started going to the gym.  Right!  I wanna be healthier than I have ever been.  I wanna be a college grad.  I went back to school.  I also wanna be employed...I'm working on that one.

I have also, at various points in my life, been a wannabe singer, wannabe popular girl, a wannabe pretty woman, a wannabe wife and a wannabe mom.

Some of these things I can control.  I am a singer.  I don't sing as often as I like...not counting the car, around the house, in the shower, etc.  I sang a lot: school; church; weddings; my grandmother's funeral.  But I will never be the front woman of a band or the lead soprano at the Met.  Maybe at one time, it may have been possible, but it's more of a pipe dream or fantasy now.  Besides, several decades of a very bad habit have altered my once four octave range to a three octave range.  The Met is definitely out, even as a member of the chorus.  Even if it's just a karaoke bar somewhere, I can always sing.  Check off a wannabe.

As far as wannabe popular girl...that isn't so important.  Not because I don't harbor a secret desire to have all the world groveling for my attention.  I still kind of do.  But the reality of it is that I will never be an "IT" girl.  I am quite okay with that, because "IT" girls live under a microscope.  I like being able to just be me.  I am very popular with a small group of people, and that suits me nicely.  Another wannabe removed.

A wannabe pretty woman...well, I ain't Julia Roberts, that's for damn sure.  Okay, I have the red hair but I'm short and I am never going to be a size 6.  In my own way, though, I think I'm pretty damn hot.  I'm sure there's someone out there that must think that.  He just hasn't met me yet.  I have drive, determination, tenacity, and endurance for the long haul.  I'm funny.  I'm smart.  I have a creative mind that gets me into trouble sometimes.  I am my own brand of beautiful, a one of a kind that makes everyone else seem like they came from a cookie cutter.

So that being said, maybe I will get to fulfill my next wannabe.

I wanna be a wife.  Not right now, my Lord, NO!  I have so much I want to accomplish for myself, and I'm late getting started on it.  I am a horribly late bloomer, or just a horrible procrastinator...whatever!  Someday, in the near or even not so near future, I would like to be some man's best friend, wife and lover.  It's the original little girl's dream.  I may be chronically single at this point but things can always change.  Of that fact, I am absolutely positive.  I've met some fascinatingly creepy, wonderfully nasty, and amazingly awful men in my life...even dated a few.  We all know how things either click or they don't.  Nothing has ever clicked.  It will, eventually.  When?  I don't know but for now, there is time.  With the good Lord's grace and a little luck, I won't wait forever.  AND...if it doesn't happen, well, I guess that will be how it will be.  Then I will continue to be a wannabe wife till the end of my time on this planet.

As far as being a mom...well, unless I adopt or become rich and can afford a surrogate, that ain't ever gonna happen.  Do I like it?  No, not really.  It's not something I can change.  That's one thing I will NEVER get to experience for myself.  Thanks nature!  But since it was a choice between no children and no life, and I had other things I wanted to accomplish, well, it was kind of a no brainer.  So one surgery, over a decade ago, and no genetic children for me.  Did it bother me?  Yes.  Does it still bother me?  Not all the time, but sometimes.  I've come to grips with it mostly...but there are some days when I can get very angry about the irony of it all.

I came from a big family with five kids.  Two brothers each have two children, one of each.  My sister has a handsome son who has grown to be one hell of a wonderful man, though, would she have carried each pregnancy to term, she would have had at least five children herself.  My younger brother will never be a parent.  It's not in the cards for him.  Physical disabilities make that very, very unlikely.

Then there's me.  Am I gonna lie and say I always wanted children?  No, I can't.  My personal opinion is God was demonstrating His immense wisdom by not allowing that to happen when I was younger.  Now that I am older, it's a bittersweet regret.  I have made leaps and bounds changes that have made me a happier, more patient, more positive soul.  I would make a great mom now.  But, to regret what can't be changed would be foolish at the very least.  I take pride in not being foolish.  Maybe I shouldn't, but I do.

So, I will remain a wannabe mom, probably till I die.  The one thing that will likely always be just out of reach.  Unless, I finally meet Mr. Right and then who knows.  Like I said there's always surrogacy or adoption.  Then look out world, I'll have everything I have always wanted.  I'll no longer be a wannabe.    

Going to the Gym

Okay, I admit it...I love to look at a well formed male butt!!  There's just something about that tight, firm, round...WHEW!  I admit it!  I can be a bit of hussy!  Not that I only look at the backside.  I love big, broad shoulders, huge upper arms, a set of pecs that give my chest competition, gloriously formed abs and those thighs!!   OMG!!!

Of course, the nearly perfect package of the male specimen is my favorite wrestler, Ryback: the shoulders; the arms; the chest; the abs; the legs and that ass!!  Oh my my!  Hmmmm!  Excuse me while a take a moment to enjoy that mental image....

I'm back.

I recently joined Gold's Gym in my hometown.  Most of us know it is a haven for weight lifters of all abilities and builds.  My hometown has some fairly well developed beefcake.  A few are probably close to my age but the majority of them are quite a bit younger.  Sometimes, my focus gets drawn away for a moment from what I am working on by some fabulously structured seat.  And I love it!!  Who cares if they catch me staring??  It can cause a serious estrogen flair up!  Most of them don't seem to mind...LMAO!!  Guys are like that.

A friend mine said recently that women need to be reminded they are beautiful.  Men, as long a woman is willing to fuck him, that's all the reminder he needs!  Smart guy...and he ain't too shabby either!

I love the endorphin buzz, the adrenaline rush.   I haven't felt those in a long while.  The gym has quickly become something I want to do...even on a shitty day.  I'm working muscles I forgot I had.  I love the 'burn' sensation it causes and the blissful ache that remains afterwards for a hour or so.  It keeps me wired for hours, which isn't necessarily a good thing for an insomniac like myself, but whatever...

I did the gym thing in the 80's.  Swore I would never do it again.  It was a 'look and see what I can do' kind of place.  Left me with seriously bad self esteem and a bitter feeling.

Making the changes in my life that I have made me rethink the whole 'never again' thing.  My wonderful network of friends encouraged me to do it for myself.  They made me feel like I was worth it.  I decided I was worth it.  Viewing myself as they view me has made a huge difference in my level of confidence.  Am I completely passed feeling doubt about myself...no!  But it's no longer the first thought in my brain.  I have a lot to offer.  I am a beautiful woman.

I'm going to keep doing this for me.  If my middle aged self gets to watch some really nice fannies for an hour or two...OORAH!!  Good thing women don't get erections...I'd be in bad shape!!

Forward Momentum

There are times in my life that I have had no forward motion.  Maybe it was me being lazy or maybe it was things happening in my life at the time.  I don't know, but it was probably a combination of the two.

I seem to have found my forward momentum again.  I have made changes and had changes thrust upon me.  This time, I am able to roll with them.  The changes haven't thrown me off my game.

I can't help but be positive about the things going on in my life, even though the world seems to be going to Hell in a handbasket.  I want to make my life a better place for me to live.  I have great friends, great family, a sensible head on my shoulders and an integrity streak the size of a country mile.  I don't know where I will be at this time next year...hell, nothing is promised.  I know I will have reached a few of my goals by then, with some of the others still in progress.

The changes I have made are permanent.  It is a promise I have made to myself.  I have to do what I need to do to be the best, beautiful me that I can be.  I plan on keeping it that way.

The Apology, Zero Z & the Mean Streak

I can be unpleasant when I am tired.  Whether I am weepy, argumentative, self deprecating to the point of personal hostility, aggressive (or some evil mix of them all), Zero Z gives light to a wicked mean streak.  My newly acquired confidence seems to have increased that swath of hard core bitch that has always run through me.

I am not comfortable with it.  I don't like it.  An adjustment is needed immediately.

I took it out on someone I have come to care for like a sister.  She was just trying to help.  It is not her fault that everything is striking a very raw, deep running nerve today.  If I had gotten some sleep, I would be able to control that inner hag, but the Sandman did not visit.  I think the little bastard likes to set me up and watch the havoc I can reek.  Hate and discontent walk closely with me, and positivity runs scared like a little girl on days like today.

My day started beautifully...yesterday morning.  I saw the sunrise this morning and watched the movie Pitch Perfect three times in a row (I like the acapella music!).  I pulled my shit together about 10am to go get smokes and coffee.  From there I decided to go for a drive.  It wasn't a long drive but it was fun, windows down, tunes cranked, even left a Corvette sitting in my dust.  I stopped for more coffee and realized I had left my phone at home, so I headed back.

I look at my phone and there are Twitter messages, email notifications, someone telling me it was my turn in our word game...and it pissed me off.  Why it struck that chasming nerve?  Fuck if I know!  That's the truth.  All I know is it did...and my dear Twitter sister caught the worst of it.

This is my open forum apology...but sorry will never be enough.  I feel like the creep I truly am underneath it all.  Guess my halo slipped off my horns again, and I'm not trying to be funny.  My dear sister, Rho, will understand that image.

So I come to you, Rho, with my hat in my hands.  There is no excuse for how I spoke to you.  I cannot make up for the heel I have been but I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me anyway....please?

 

Things to Do in Pennsy...when you can't sleep

*Walk heavily to annoy the downstairs neighbors with the noisy kids.

*Scratch cat's chin.  Tell her just a little bit longer and Mommy will go to bed, then sit down at the computer.

*Put a favorite song on repeat cuz you always wanted to get the words exactly right but feel like cheating if you look up the lyrics.  Memorize Hard Luck Woman

*Check all six of your email accounts for spam.  Delete spam or anything that you just don't want to be bothered with.

*Go through your Twitter feed to find something: sexy; sensitive; astrological; touching; noteworthy; funny; smartass; significant; newsy...  WTH!!  Go with the sexy, sign related and smartass!!  If you have to be awake and alone, you might as well get a laugh or two out of it.

*Another Twitter occupation - try to find everything out there about your favorite wrestler. I'm not a stalker.  I am a devoted, loyal fan!!  Or that's what the defense attorney says.  (JUST KIDDING)

*Catch up on all of your Facebook games you haven't played since the last time you couldn't sleep (which was last night).

*Again for Facebook - annoy all your friends by sharing every single cat meme, especially anything that is a cute kitten or Tard the Angry Cat.

*Another Facebook pastime - annoy all your friends (and you have already lost a few because of the cute cat pictures) by sharing pictures of your favorite wrestler(s).  Hey, some of the ladies like Vipers and Gingers!! A few others even like big, beautiful, bald beasties.  (Seriously, I WAS KIDDING!!)

*Aggravate the cat by refusing to walk away from the computer.

*Get cat all happy when you get up to go pee.

*Piss cat off royally when you walk to kitchen to make tea but do not produce the much sought after treats, which she feels she deserves because you refuse to shut off the computer.

*Watch cat finally get disgusted, curl up and go to sleep...while you learn the lyrics to God Gave Rock n Roll To You.

*Walk to the living room, purposely disturbing the cat, just to see her give you the "Glare of Death".

*Discover there is nothing but infomercials and old House reruns on TV.  Walk back to computer under the watchful gaze of a feline now plotting your untimely demise.

*Check all six email accounts for spam...there is none. You did that already, dummy.  You would have remembered that if you weren't so fucking tired!!!

*Head to the kitchen for a banana.  You eat healthy now and there is not one bit of junk in the house for comfort.  Grab a handful of almonds while you're at it.

*Sit back down at the computer after properly disposing of the banana peel, with visions of Elmer Fudd in your brain.  Giggle wildly, causing cat to turn her back to you.

****Start all over with a new song****

****Repeat till daylight****

#shuffle list to keep it interesting

Letting the 'Bad Girl' Out

Do not let the title fool you.  It is not that kind of blog!  

I often find it very difficult to let my 'bad girl' side out to play.  Whether it is a lack of trust, a lack of self confidence, or both, I rarely feel comfortable enough to "cut loose" with my bad self.  We all have an ornery side.  Primarily, I am utterly shy, extremely serious and very heart on the sleeve.  My naughty side is usually fairly well hidden.  Regardless of who someone may be to me, they don't often get to see or hear me being risque except for the occasional joke.  The few dates I have ever had NEVER heard 'sexy' talk come out of my mouth.  It just didn't happen.  Didn't occur to me to try.

So it surprises me that I have found that side coming out more often to make an appearance.  Not that I'm living large as the latest piece on the market, no way!  I have too much respect for myself.  I definitely have too much respect for my family, especially my parents.  My dad may not live on this planet any longer, but he very much still lives in my heart.  Mom is still here and she means the world to me.  Add to that an elder brother who is a distinct pillar in our community and you get the picture.  I live in a world that requires integrity and honor.  My 'bad girl' side is in direct conflict with those expectations.

I have journeyed through losing about half of myself, with pounds to go before it becomes about maintenance.  With each pound I have sent away, my confidence has increased.  It hasn't come easily.  I am a work in progress constantly.  I have to tell myself that I am more than just my outer appearance.  I have amazing friends who remind me of that often.  A few 'sisterhood' members and a few 'Rybackers' have pointed out that what makes me beautiful is who I am both inside and out.

I argue with them because there are still more days than not that I am blind to it.  Those days are hour by sweet hour becoming fewer in number.  The less frequently I feel the need to disagree, the more often people are getting to see my colorful side.  She can be entertaining when she wants to be, and she doesn't need much prompting.  Allowing my 'entertaining' side to go on stage has been enlightening for me, because it shocks some. The responses have ranged from amazement to surprise to even indignation.

Well, the indignant ones, they will have to get over it.  I have decided I like feeling confident in who I am, an unusual feeling for me.  That confidence has allowed me to finally enroll in school for an associates degree.  It also gave me the strength to take another step in my weight loss adventure.  I joined a gym.  Not just any gym either, because if I am going to do this thing, I'm going to do it right.  I joined the local Golds Gym.  I am going to work with a trainer and get my currently sagging self firmed and toned, maybe even stronger.  I'll see what happens.

Who knows?  Maybe, when I reach the point I feel I should be, I can help someone else let out their inner 'bad girl'.  

Positive and negative

I have some dear friends who have been encouraging me in the direction of positive thinking.  That goes against most every fiber of my body.  I admit it.  I am not a positive person by nature.  You are thinking "DUH!".  Call it influences over the years, experiences throughout my life, whatever...I am not typically positive when it comes to myself.

I can be a very positive influence when it comes to others: family; friends; co workers; the lady in the line ahead me at the store...whoever.  Just not for myself.

Y'all remember my 'little obsession' with the wrestler.  Well, he is also a very firm believer in the laws of attraction and positive thinking.  Law of attraction simply is if you put the positive thoughts and actions out, it will draw positive things to you.  Simple enough, right?  NOT!  As an example, he is a good one.  He lives it, day in and day out.  It seems to work for him, considering his ever growing fan base.  He is working for the company he has always wanted to and has the career he has dreamed of since he was a preteen.  I think that's wonderful, cool, awesome.  It has worked for him.

I just have a hard time trying to figure out how, with my current state of affairs, to be positive.

That's where my wonderful friends come into the picture.  God Bless them!  They are soooo amazing!!  When I get to feeling really down about 'things', they not only pick me up and dust me off but also kick me in the ass when needed.  Some sweetly...others, not so much.  Being friends with me can be a challenge.  I am bipolar, but medicated.  I still have 'swings' though not like they were before medication and therapy.  Include the general negative aspect of my personality...you get the picture.

Anyway...they are WONDERFUL!  I owe them so much...and they are the reason I try everyday to find something positive, even if it is to think about their friendship and what means to me.  I have to give them their 'props'...I don't function well without them.  At their urging, I work daily to become a more positive thinking person.  I struggle with it.  If you have read any of my other entries, you already know that.  I hear them in my head sometimes, cheerleading and/or chastising me.

Fact remains, I am a challenge, a gauntlet they seem to have readily accepted.   I'm lucky...very lucky.   My grinchy little heart grows with each interaction...whether it is face to face or virtually these days.  Not sure about the other fibers, but the heart fibers are becoming more positive than negative.  I am trying to be more,  They help...maybe more than even I understand.  Whatever it is, I don't know that I would survive without them, ALL of them.

I love you guys!  You make me a much better person...I hope you know that.

Is there light at the end of the tunnel...or is that the headlight of a freight train?

I know folks get tired my bitching.  Truth is, I bitch (therefore I am).  It's that simple.  I can be a cranky old cuss.  I'm tired of job hunting...so tired of job hunting.  There is always a better candidate: less pay; fewer benefits; more experienced; less experienced...whatever. It's such bull!

I can remember my dad searching for work when he was my age.  He had to take an on the road sales job.  He seemed to like it.  But he had sales experience.  The only sales jobs I seem to hear from is insurance sales.  I'm sorry...that idea DOES NOT appeal to me.  I have this mental picture of an old neighbor who was an insurance salesman.  I know how people felt when he showed up because I felt that way too.  He was pushy, irritating, aggravating...all the things that people already complain I am.  I don't need to give them an excuse to avoid me even more!! 

So...I'm tired of job hunting already, and it's only been a month.  Man, am I screwed or what?

I want to find something that uses the skills I have, and lets me learn more.  Frankly, that's why I enrolled in college.  Yep, I enrolled in college.  It's online.  It's a reputable school.  Going to get my associates degree in business administration.  I feel sure it will help.  I hope it helps that I am studying for it, and that I don't have to wait till I complete the degree for it to have any real effect.

Meanwhile, my nose is to the grindstone trying to put in at least one application on weekdays, more if I can.  Everything is so limited.  Even the things I know I can do now say you have to have a flippin' degree.  They are going to train you.  Unless it's an engineering job, a medical position...you know what I mean...why is the degree an absolute?  Companies want you to do things their way anyhow if it's entry level.  

Some of the jobs I look at, I have the experience they are looking for, just not the damn degree.  It's so frustrating.  Some days I could just sit and bawl for hours.  I don't know how people that have been looking for months do it.  I'm ready to stop and it's just been a month.

I know going to school is a positive thing.  The grant and student loans pay it in full, as long as I stay under 31.5 credit hours for this academic year.  I know I will have to pay back the loans, but that is a future worry.  I'm anxious to get started with this new adventure, and that's what it is for me.

Okay, I guess I've just talked myself out of my funk about job hunting.  Something has to be out there...has to be.  I'll find it, might take awhile, but I'll find it.  

Why bother?

Today is very much a 'why bother?' day.  Why bother getting dressed?  Why bother job hunting?  Why bother talking (or 'talking') to people?  Why bother breathing?  Ever have one of those days?

Part of it, I know, is lack of sleep (The Sandman is an evil little mutha fucker!).  With me and men (real, imaginary, whatever!!!) is a difficult, if not impossible, relationship.  Not that I don't like men.  They have ALWAYS been a major preoccupation for me.  Most men do not like me (or 'like' me).  I'm not pretty enough, tall enough, thin enough, quiet enough, dumb enough, easy enough...the list goes on.  I never could find a way of playing the silly, slutty, girlie role a large number of guys on the hunt for typically.  But then, cheap, chubby chicks are sad.  I've always had a greater expectation for myself, much to my own chagrin.  No backstage tours for me (personal joke)!  

Anyhow....I know some of it is insomnia talking.  I have never slept well...ask Mom.  I was apparently a very restless baby in the womb.  After I was born, they had to sit up nights with me because I couldn't sleep.  Allergies or just not sleepy, take your pick.  As a kid, I was the one that didn't want to go to bed and wanted to stay in bed till noon.  As a teen, and as an adult, naps are a cherished luxury.  A night owl, a vampire, a bat, they have all been used to describe my nocturnal habits.  

A large chunk of the 'why bother?' attitude is from all of the recent events in my life, and plain old loneliness.  Life is constantly changing, I know that fact.   People, jobs, pets...things come and go.  I guess losing Jessee and then my job a week later has me obsessing over all the things I no longer have, or the things I have never had.  It's been a month since Jessee went to the Rainbow Bridge, a month tomorrow since I lost my job...and two years on Sunday since Daddy left us.  I miss all of them, but I miss Daddy most of all.  He took a very big part of my heart with him when he went Home.  

The things I don't have, a completely different type of obsessing.  From children to a lifelong love, nope, don't have it.  I watch families and get jealous.  I watch young couples (all PDA lovey dovey) and I want to cry.  Not that I haven't been in love...just the guys were never in love with me.  No handholding, no kissing, no hugging tight and close...none of it.  At age 46, if the world blew up today, I would be one of the few 'mature' virgins hurtling through space.  Part of me is kind of proud that I have kept it that way, but if I am brutally honest with myself, I hate it.  Science says having sex makes a permanent chemical change for a woman.  I'd like to find out for myself, you know.  But again, slutty fat girls are just pathetic, so guess I'm not going to experiment to find out. 

Nature and surgery took care of my ability to have children.  I could adopt but children should have two parents.  My politically incorrect view is it should be a mother and father, not two dads or two moms.  Even if mother and father are not in the same household, there should be one of each to raise the child.  

So I have cats, or now, a cat.  I haven't had just one cat, EVER.  My heart is so not into getting another cat right now, though this would probably be a good time, since I'm fucking home all the time.

I am still searching for a job.  I even enrolled in college, online but college, to get my associates degree in business administration.  I figured it couldn't hurt.  As long as I stay at 31.5 credit hours, the Pell Grant and a federal student loan will take care of the cost.  It may help my chances to get a better job.  Now if I remember to put it on my resume on all the job search sites I'm using...  The grant and loan won't affect my unemployment, thank goodness.  Seems my 401k payout won't either, not that there is much of that left.  I paid bills ahead a month.  Hopefully, I will be employed before they all start showing up again in August.

Talking to people, or in my world, 'talking' (tweeting, texting, emailing, messaging) to people usually makes me feel left behind or left out.  I have a tough time connecting with people because I feel so negative somedays.  Also, I am extremely shy in a group, and sometimes, try or not, I feel like some people are plain stupid.  Not everyone, by NO means! When I'm feeling blue and negativity is coursing through my brain, I have so little patience.  Amazing that I was a call center rep for as long as I was, right?  I have to admit, graciously, gratefully, I have met some pretty fantastic people in my life...and sometimes they only serve to remind my little black heart of all the things I wish I had.  I tell other people to count ALL of their blessings, but have such a hard time doing that for myself.  Thank God most of my friends have come to understand that side of me.  They take it with a grain of salt, a huge offering of kindness and a heaping helping of ass kicking, as needed.

Why bother breathing?  Well, since I don't want to be dead, though that has it's appealing side, I guess I will keep breathing...in, out, in, out...till things improve.

Happy Fourth!

Land of the free, home of the brave...wouldn't be like that if it weren't for our Founding Fathers (The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution, The Bill of Rights) and all the members of the military!  Thank you from the bottom of this blue blooded redneck heart for creating & keeping this land of opportunity!  Forgive those who have been spoiled by the handouts of our liberal counterparts, and the morons in DC!!

May America find the wherewithal to get back to her roots!  May God bless America again!

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!

I tweet, therefore I am?

Okay, so all the kids are doing it...right?

No, not drugs, not sex (hell, I've never done either of those) and not drinking (I HAVE done that).  I'm talking about tweeting, you know, Twitter.  Oh, don't roll your eyes at me.  It's consoling, interesting, can be very funny, and unbelievably refreshing to someone who spends a lot of time by herself.  I have met some really cool people there, with some amazing stories: the conflict toughened lab tech who is a rabid Ryback fan (compared to her, I am no fan at all); the mom with an awful story that bloomed a beautiful human being (also a Ryback fan); the music man that is a bit of horn-dog but a really good guy at heart (surprise, a Ryback fan).  There's a running theme here, ya know.

I can feed my love for all things Ryback, my conservative inclinations, get an immense amount of support and indulge in my ornery side...all in the same place.  Twitter has shrunk the world down into an Android phone I hold in the palm of my hand, or the desktop sitting in my office.  Evenings are spent traveling everywhere without leaving home, trailing behind fantastic people who know me only by my personality and my typing skills.  Twitter is an amazing yet frightening thing.

I have to admit, I was a doubter like most people.  Put yourself out there for all the world to 'see'?  Nah, not for me, but Facebook, it's like a gateway drug.  Soon you need more, so you blog.  Then that isn't enough, and you sign up for Twitter...Ooooo!  Next thing you know, I'll be on Linkedin and it's all downhill from there.

I have come to really like that little core group of Rybackers.  We have become a virtual family.  We cheer.  We bitch.  We post pics.  We have running gags.  We counsel.  We cajole.  We tease.  We support.  I have come to count on my interactions with them to keep me in touch with the world around me, regardless of where they are.  I find them interesting, remarkable, wonderful, funny, supportive...virtual friends much like my Redneck Sisterhood.  It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say I love them all for what they bring to my life.  They make me feel like someone out there loves me for being me...as much of a knucklehead as I am.  

They are so many in our growing family of fans, from Egypt to Trinidad, Canada and the USA.  I love tweeting with them (140 spaces or less, please).  Mondays & Fridays are a big night to gather around the 'table' and cheer on our favorite wrestler (yep, you guessed it, Ryback).  We make contact most evenings, discuss the day, anything new and exciting, new and scary, new and naughty.  Occasionally, someone needs a shoulder to weep on, an ear to complain to or a need to share something or someone new that has come into their life.  We take it in and dispense advice, support...friendship...across the digital miles.  

I am grateful and excited to know these people.  They are a testament of all the places and things we humans can survive, that we can do, when the need arises (yeah, arises...snicker at that one, Music Man!).  

I think I'm gonna be tweeting for years to come. 

I Return

I haven't been here in MONTHS!  So much has happened like: losing my job; having another furbaby put to sleep; Mom having one scheduled and two emergency surgeries; tried to quit smoking; hitting the 100 pounds lost mark; enrolled in an associates degree program.  It's been eventful, to say the least.

Oh, I found out I'm going to be a great aunt too.  I would love to be excited about that but since I am not a favorite person of my nephew and wife, I will probably never see the child.  That's okay.  I'll send my love & prayers anyway.

Somewhere, along the line, I discovered I have a great deal more strength than I thought, and so many more friends than I thought.  I have gotten so much support from the people in my life over these past few weeks, it blows my mind.  My network of friends is overwhelming.  I do not have words enough to thank any of that network for hanging in there with me.  My friends make me laugh, cry with me, make me feel better about myself and my world.

Losing Jessee was hard.  I admit it.  My cats are my children.  Time is very cruel and so is age.  When it became difficult for him to even greet me in the morning, I knew what I had to do.  We are their caretakers.  When he couldn't stand that morning, try as he might, I couldn't allow myself to put off the horrible inevitable any longer.  Now what remains of my beautiful boy is in a tiny teakwood box...and my heart will never be the same again.

The job loss...a blessing in disguise I think.  I wasn't happy and apparently they weren't happy either.  See ya later, Judy!! Talk about a mind numbing experience.  I have never been fired before.  A week after losing Jessee, I lost my job.  Ka-Blam!!! Talk about a world shattered.  So I'm job hunting (again), using my resources and searching online daily.  I have had a few interviews but nothing has panned out, yet.  I will keep going till I find something.

I enrolled for an associates degree in business administration.  If the funding comes through, then I start classes online on July 22nd.  Say some prayers, cross your fingers!

So much has happened...too much has happened.  Just laying it out causes my brain to bend a bit.  Hey, I'm flexible...LOL!!!

More next time in this continuing saga that is my life....