By now, most of you know, I am a mouth piece! Those who grew up with me, likely knew that long ago, and the few who have decided to be in my teeny tiny circle of friends here, clued in early, and for some reason, tolerate me, still.
Have you ever heard (I know you have) "opposites attract?" They have to, there is no way in this universe that one home, could hold 2 personalities like mine. There simply has to be Ying and Yang. I have been thinking (an awful lot of that going on lately) and, you know what? Ever since I was a kid, I have had one beside me, that was the peace to my war.
KP, and many of you know who this is, you were the quiet one. We spent our teen years glued to the hip. We were, in my Dad's words "Mutt and Jeff". I suppose I didn't realize back then, that I was the big mouth. Maybe it was because I had not got to the point of openly verbalizing, like I do now, but I expect when folks think back to the good old days, they remember you as the nice quiet one, and me as the one who didn't shut up.
I wonder if some of this occurred because I grew up in a home where "Children should be seen and not heard"? Cripes, perhaps I bottled so many years of not being heard , that I am just catching up? Hey, I know I am not the only one in my family who likes to talk, so perhaps it is genetic?
So, I had my BFF to balance me when I was learning to become an adult. Maybe KP was a mouth piece as well, I was just louder? We will never know, and she remains, one of the quiet ones.Oh, there were one or two friends, who, when I think back, were on the same track as me, but I think I knew they were competition, so I stuck with the quiet one.
Now I have my honey. What attracted me to him? Well, I can't tell you the honest truth, it would embarrass our children,lol, but, part of the attraction was, he was quiet. Really, maybe he was beyond quiet, he was so reserved, he seemed to set himself apart. It was apparent he was special. He was clearly much smarter than me, and did not have the need to use his voice to be noticed.
In the beginning, I had no hope that we would even become friends. But, we were in the same course, along with a group of his friends, and somehow, I became one of the Foreman(woman) and, sort of his boss. I joke that I told him, if he wanted to keep the job (we did jobs within the course) he had to be nice to his boss. That isn't true, of course, but, somehow, over time, we became a couple.
Now, here's a tidbit. My honey is 9 years, 6 months and 18 days younger than me!! When we became a couple, our relationship was not something others accepted. Besides the age difference, my honey is Gitxsan(Native) and I am not. We didn't have too many people in the ballpark, giving us odds to stay together. We had a small group of co-workers who socialized with us, but they were not in favour of us being together, either.
I could go through all the crap that came at us right from the beginning, and even writing it now, I would wonder how the hell we managed, but we did! We are going into year 28, and I love him as much as I did the first time I saw him. I doubt he thinks this every time I go off on a rampage. I won't say I have never flung the "hate" word at him, and I can't count the times I have threatened to pack my bags, because life has become too hard, and I don't want to deal with it, and he can't find an instant fix to shut me up.
But, I have come close, twice to losing the love of my life, in the past few years, and I realize I would be lost without him. I understand how very lucky I was to find him, and get to spend my life with him. I hear friends tell me, how lucky I am to have someone who is so calm and patient, and, here it comes...quiet.
I try and tell these friends, he may appear quiet to them , but, sometimes silence is louder than my screeching. This man can speak volumes without opening his mouth, he can shut me up with only a few words,(when they finally sink into my thick skull) . He is definitely the Ying to my Yang, and we are the perfect example of opposites.
I will tell you the secret to us staying together all these years, something he admitted to me when I apologized once for going off the deep end. He didn't hear me go off the deep end! His gift, is the ability to tune me out. When I start on a rampage, it seems he goes deaf! All the energy I expend screaming and hollering, is wasted, because he does not hear.
So, we are perfect. If he was loud, the battles would have worn us out, if I was quiet, the silence would be deafening. We are opposites, and , we overcame all the obstacles that said we should never last. I am so very grateful I found the other 1/2 of my world!
I love you to bits and pieces, Chuckla. Just had the urge to tell the whole World (well, my little Blog world) this. And I thank you for being the quiet one!
Monday, 15 April 2013
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Farmer, Plumber, Carpenter or Housekeeper?
So, I expect you may have guessed, I have been having far more time than usual, to ponder. Work is very slow (spring break-up) and I have been home earlier than normal. Guess you are just going to have to bear with the ranting, since I have done my dishes already, and have this quality time left.
Today, I got to thinking (yes, again)! I wonder if my parents wanted me to go into farming? Why would I wonder that? Well, my Mother was constantly asking me if I was born in a Barn. Strange, if anyone would know where I was born, I would think my Mom did, perhaps I really was adopted??Then they would go on about how I couldn't hit the broadside of a barn (again, farming?). As to the carpentry side of things, apparently I was built like a brick shithouse (o.K. maybe that's more into the plumbing side of things) I had legs like stove pipes (chimney sweep?) and I couldn't throw a pisspot out of an upstairs window. Humm...now that I put this down, it must have been plumbing.
How did I end up in housekeeping? Cripes, I was a piglet! My Mom would hold off, until she ran out of bowls and plates, and silverwear, and then head up to my room, muck it out, and we would start back at square one. I think she thought I was upset when she did this, Hah! I would say I was sorry, and she would tell me the next time, everything would go right into the garbage, and we would settle until the spoons ran out. I came out of all this, smelling like Pinesol. I had a nice clean room, all organized, and a neatly made bed, life was wonderful!
Now I will tell you a story, that may explain how I became so messed in the head. Oh, it has to do with my messy habits, and all of us will shake our heads, as to how I ended up in the job I have, today.
I think I was around 18 or so, and got myself a boyfriend. He was a nice guy, and I actually,sort of keep tabs to ensure he is still kicking to this day. Don't go getting all prissy, my honey knows all about him, and they have actually met and chatted. Anyhow, the big moment came, I was going to bring him home to meet my parents, and my younger brother. I didn't do this often, and I doubt girls today, do it anymore often than I did. It was never a good thing. I think it was the day before he was to come by, my Mom got on me about my pigsty again. I let it slide, although I could tell she was really ticked. My Dad threatened to take a picture of my room, and post it in the hotel lobby (where I worked), if I didn't get my ass in gear.
Lalalala..hey, been threatened before, nothing ever happened. Well, this time, it was different! Brought the boyfriend home, introductions all around, and then....my Dad pulls out a Polaroid picture. It's my room, in all it's disgusting glory. He hands it to the guy, who of course did the polite thing and laughed, and went along with my Dad's glee.
You know, by that time, my parents had bought me 2 sets of luggage. I do think they were desperate for me to go off into the big world (I was slow to clue in). After the guy left, I had a chat with my parents. I remember telling them they would never, ever get rid of me, if they kept showing guys what a slob I was! If they wanted me to ever get a man to take me off their hands, they should keep this information secret!Poor Aardvark,(his nickname) he had no clue what to do, and in truth, he never once brought that damn picture up, again. Like I say, nice guy!!
I expect things started to change a little when I joined the military. This was perhaps the one and only time my Father was actually proud of me. My parents traveled all the way from northern B.C. to Cornwallis NS to watch me graduate from Basic Training. Oh, I was thrilled to show them my uniform, and for them to watch me out on the drill square, marching about in perfect cadence with all the others. But, the one thing I was desperate to show them, was my room. There was no silverware under the bed, no dust bunnies hopping about, everything sparkled, neat as a pin. Even my springs in the bed had been cleaned and polished. The rules did not allow parents in the barracks, but, my NCO gave me permission to show off my cleanliness, One more picture taken, and this one, they were allowed to show to everyone they knew!
I could tell you when I got out of the military, I became a clean freak, but that would be a lie I fell back into my mess pretty quickly. Add a husband, and a child, and everything was the same, except, I no longer put dishes under the bed, just laundry. The only difference, was, I had that faint memory of everything tidy, and the pride to open the door and let the world see how clean I could be.
Now I want that back. Now I understand why my Mother would go on a binge and muck my space out. Life is much more simple when things are clean and in their place. When I told you I was a minimalist, there is a reason for that. The less things that need a place, the easier it is to clean.
My job allows me to get the satisfaction of making a place neat as a pin, something farming,or plumbing would not give me. Funny, it's been a very long time since that Polaroid was taken, but..... I almost forgot, talking to me was like talking to the wall (carpentry?). Maybe what my Mom tried to get through my thick skull, past the wall has finally reached my ears?
Today, I got to thinking (yes, again)! I wonder if my parents wanted me to go into farming? Why would I wonder that? Well, my Mother was constantly asking me if I was born in a Barn. Strange, if anyone would know where I was born, I would think my Mom did, perhaps I really was adopted??Then they would go on about how I couldn't hit the broadside of a barn (again, farming?). As to the carpentry side of things, apparently I was built like a brick shithouse (o.K. maybe that's more into the plumbing side of things) I had legs like stove pipes (chimney sweep?) and I couldn't throw a pisspot out of an upstairs window. Humm...now that I put this down, it must have been plumbing.
How did I end up in housekeeping? Cripes, I was a piglet! My Mom would hold off, until she ran out of bowls and plates, and silverwear, and then head up to my room, muck it out, and we would start back at square one. I think she thought I was upset when she did this, Hah! I would say I was sorry, and she would tell me the next time, everything would go right into the garbage, and we would settle until the spoons ran out. I came out of all this, smelling like Pinesol. I had a nice clean room, all organized, and a neatly made bed, life was wonderful!
Now I will tell you a story, that may explain how I became so messed in the head. Oh, it has to do with my messy habits, and all of us will shake our heads, as to how I ended up in the job I have, today.
I think I was around 18 or so, and got myself a boyfriend. He was a nice guy, and I actually,sort of keep tabs to ensure he is still kicking to this day. Don't go getting all prissy, my honey knows all about him, and they have actually met and chatted. Anyhow, the big moment came, I was going to bring him home to meet my parents, and my younger brother. I didn't do this often, and I doubt girls today, do it anymore often than I did. It was never a good thing. I think it was the day before he was to come by, my Mom got on me about my pigsty again. I let it slide, although I could tell she was really ticked. My Dad threatened to take a picture of my room, and post it in the hotel lobby (where I worked), if I didn't get my ass in gear.
Lalalala..hey, been threatened before, nothing ever happened. Well, this time, it was different! Brought the boyfriend home, introductions all around, and then....my Dad pulls out a Polaroid picture. It's my room, in all it's disgusting glory. He hands it to the guy, who of course did the polite thing and laughed, and went along with my Dad's glee.
You know, by that time, my parents had bought me 2 sets of luggage. I do think they were desperate for me to go off into the big world (I was slow to clue in). After the guy left, I had a chat with my parents. I remember telling them they would never, ever get rid of me, if they kept showing guys what a slob I was! If they wanted me to ever get a man to take me off their hands, they should keep this information secret!Poor Aardvark,(his nickname) he had no clue what to do, and in truth, he never once brought that damn picture up, again. Like I say, nice guy!!
I expect things started to change a little when I joined the military. This was perhaps the one and only time my Father was actually proud of me. My parents traveled all the way from northern B.C. to Cornwallis NS to watch me graduate from Basic Training. Oh, I was thrilled to show them my uniform, and for them to watch me out on the drill square, marching about in perfect cadence with all the others. But, the one thing I was desperate to show them, was my room. There was no silverware under the bed, no dust bunnies hopping about, everything sparkled, neat as a pin. Even my springs in the bed had been cleaned and polished. The rules did not allow parents in the barracks, but, my NCO gave me permission to show off my cleanliness, One more picture taken, and this one, they were allowed to show to everyone they knew!
I could tell you when I got out of the military, I became a clean freak, but that would be a lie I fell back into my mess pretty quickly. Add a husband, and a child, and everything was the same, except, I no longer put dishes under the bed, just laundry. The only difference, was, I had that faint memory of everything tidy, and the pride to open the door and let the world see how clean I could be.
Now I want that back. Now I understand why my Mother would go on a binge and muck my space out. Life is much more simple when things are clean and in their place. When I told you I was a minimalist, there is a reason for that. The less things that need a place, the easier it is to clean.
My job allows me to get the satisfaction of making a place neat as a pin, something farming,or plumbing would not give me. Funny, it's been a very long time since that Polaroid was taken, but..... I almost forgot, talking to me was like talking to the wall (carpentry?). Maybe what my Mom tried to get through my thick skull, past the wall has finally reached my ears?
Saturday, 13 April 2013
Unblanced and Out of Control
Well, thanks goodness for friends, who see me from the outside. Today, I learned something new about myself. O.K. maybe it isn't new, maybe I knew it all the time, but, I didn't think it was so obvious. I have a control issue!!
Now, I know, I can't control all the things in life. Certainly not the 2 standbys, death and taxes. I can't control fate, Karma, (well, actually, in truth, shouldn't I be able to control that?) or other people. But, I take responsibility for specific things, that I do feel I have control of. I could be way skinnier, but I gave up control of my food intake, long ago. I could be far smarter, but I chose not to dedicate myself to homework, when I should have. I could have far less wrinkles, if I had controlled myself, and used lotion decades earlier, rather than have the extra coffee. I could have far more money, if I didn't spend as much. Those are things I didn't do, but I have only myself to blame, so, Hey, I deal with them!
I am fine and dandy, until something rears it's nasty head, and I lose control. Then I get mad, and I start to fight. I refuse to have something that I did not plan for, pop up, and screw my life up.
I know, life has a way of screwing with a person. Cripes, I have been screwed out of plans, more than the average idiot. Most of the time, I can figure out what I did wrong, and then I have myself to blame for. But...there have been times, and usually the worst of times, when, I could never have foreseen what came down the road, and smacked me right upside of my head. I am not unrealistic, I know I can't control an accident, either. Those upset me, but, having spent as much time living, as I have, I understand, accidents happen. I might get mad about that, but, I have learned to live with that fact.
The facts I can't live with, are those man-made. You know, those caused by AHoles who decide to invade your private space. Those with heads so big, they shouldn't fit through doorways. Those who never, ever travel alone, but move in packs. Those who have their own rules, and agendas, and , worst of all, those who think they know it all!!
Come on, you all have folks like that in your lives. Some allow them, because, perhaps they benefit in ways they feel balance things out. Maybe that is part of my problem. Maybe I am too proud, to even consider balancing things? I just see black and white!! If I could wobble into a gray area, suck up my personal issues, I might come out of crap, with a little something in my pocket (likely sh*t).
I live in a democracy(that's a tad questionable). I can't refuse to allow government to control me. Reaching my adult life, I always made a point of voting. I did not do so blindly, I did it each time, with the feeling that my candidate was offering what I thought was right. The past few times, have been different. I have lost faith, and I have lost a party that offers what I think would be best.
I didn't even vote in the local election, this time around. I should have voted for the Mayor, but, lucky for me, the one person I intended to place a vote for got in. The rest, I felt, was a waste of time and energy, therefore, I saved the fuel, and stayed home. Whoa, bet some of you folks reading this, are surprised, I would have voted for the Mayor. Yep!! Not because she stands for everything I felt right, but, because she stands for the biggest issue I am concerned about, so....See, I am flexible. Things do not have to be perfect, so, actually, I do balance, sometimes.
Now we get to the crux of the matter. Next month, folks will decide what will happen with my life. Yes, I will vote this time around, not for any old party, but for an independent. How sad is that? Not a single party stands for what I think is right!! You know what? That independent will be elected. I predict, he gets in, with a landslide. So, I am not alone. It is blatantly obvious, our government does not even consider a huge area of our province.
The area I live, is only important for revenue, and energy. The Holier than thous up at the top (passing time till they get ginormous pensions) can sit in their sky high offices, and inform the rest of the world that my piece of the province is simply worth filling up with water, and flushing down the drain! Oh, and don't worry, all the oil and gas revenue, will continue to pour into Victoria, so they can ensure the flowers look pretty, and the politicians can flit about, opening useless hospital extensions. Perhaps greet a ton of temporary miners. Or maybe fly over and visit with the out sourced workers in another country, maybe check up on banking matters while they are there!
Does any of what I say, ring a bell? Am I alone in my disgust with government? It is broken so badly, it lost it's ears, it's morals, and worst of all, it's common sense!! It paid for a Bollywood celebration. The reasoning to spend 11 million dollars to set up a party for another country, was.....the city of Vancouver might (and check that word,might) make 13 million dollars?? WTF do I care about the frigging city of Vancouver????Really, folks, I had to suck things up with the Olympics..oooohhhh, going to be great to advertise B.C. Come on..I see a flood of tourists lining up to spend money in this area. Oh, I forgot, the Liberal plan was to flood this region, so silly, we don't need tourists!!
In my mind (using a small portion of common sense) why can't our government give the Film industry the tax breaks they have been crying for, and.....all those folks who go to movies, will see B.C. and they will come, and they will spend money...Do you think I am off the wall? Hummm...maybe Christy can suck 2 million out of that?
I have been ranting about Site C, and that looms over my head like a sword. The Liberals claim without this, the rest of the province won't get the big cash revenues from LNG. Our province won't get money for energy we are shipping to China, unless we spend 10's (and I do think this project will cost, not 10, but 10's) of billions of dollars to flood the Peace, to build a dam, to allow liquid natural gas to provide energy to another country!!
LNG is not green enough for our province, you say. Well, so it will be used in another country, the emissions will float into the air of China, Helloooo...why the Hell is that O.K., and using our own LNG here is not? This makes our government the worlds biggest, frigging Hypocrites!! I don't give a rats ass if we sell China LNG, go right ahead, we need money, and we need to ensure regulations, and consultation. But, if we are going to reap the benefit of LNG, why can't we use it, to provide the energy needed? Honest, I am just speaking what appears to be common sense!
I see I am losing control. Even typing is becoming noisy. Just spend a few moments to stew with some of what bashes about in my brain. Perhaps you can understand why I am the maddest human being on the planet.
Now, I know, I can't control all the things in life. Certainly not the 2 standbys, death and taxes. I can't control fate, Karma, (well, actually, in truth, shouldn't I be able to control that?) or other people. But, I take responsibility for specific things, that I do feel I have control of. I could be way skinnier, but I gave up control of my food intake, long ago. I could be far smarter, but I chose not to dedicate myself to homework, when I should have. I could have far less wrinkles, if I had controlled myself, and used lotion decades earlier, rather than have the extra coffee. I could have far more money, if I didn't spend as much. Those are things I didn't do, but I have only myself to blame, so, Hey, I deal with them!
I am fine and dandy, until something rears it's nasty head, and I lose control. Then I get mad, and I start to fight. I refuse to have something that I did not plan for, pop up, and screw my life up.
I know, life has a way of screwing with a person. Cripes, I have been screwed out of plans, more than the average idiot. Most of the time, I can figure out what I did wrong, and then I have myself to blame for. But...there have been times, and usually the worst of times, when, I could never have foreseen what came down the road, and smacked me right upside of my head. I am not unrealistic, I know I can't control an accident, either. Those upset me, but, having spent as much time living, as I have, I understand, accidents happen. I might get mad about that, but, I have learned to live with that fact.
The facts I can't live with, are those man-made. You know, those caused by AHoles who decide to invade your private space. Those with heads so big, they shouldn't fit through doorways. Those who never, ever travel alone, but move in packs. Those who have their own rules, and agendas, and , worst of all, those who think they know it all!!
Come on, you all have folks like that in your lives. Some allow them, because, perhaps they benefit in ways they feel balance things out. Maybe that is part of my problem. Maybe I am too proud, to even consider balancing things? I just see black and white!! If I could wobble into a gray area, suck up my personal issues, I might come out of crap, with a little something in my pocket (likely sh*t).
I live in a democracy(that's a tad questionable). I can't refuse to allow government to control me. Reaching my adult life, I always made a point of voting. I did not do so blindly, I did it each time, with the feeling that my candidate was offering what I thought was right. The past few times, have been different. I have lost faith, and I have lost a party that offers what I think would be best.
I didn't even vote in the local election, this time around. I should have voted for the Mayor, but, lucky for me, the one person I intended to place a vote for got in. The rest, I felt, was a waste of time and energy, therefore, I saved the fuel, and stayed home. Whoa, bet some of you folks reading this, are surprised, I would have voted for the Mayor. Yep!! Not because she stands for everything I felt right, but, because she stands for the biggest issue I am concerned about, so....See, I am flexible. Things do not have to be perfect, so, actually, I do balance, sometimes.
Now we get to the crux of the matter. Next month, folks will decide what will happen with my life. Yes, I will vote this time around, not for any old party, but for an independent. How sad is that? Not a single party stands for what I think is right!! You know what? That independent will be elected. I predict, he gets in, with a landslide. So, I am not alone. It is blatantly obvious, our government does not even consider a huge area of our province.
The area I live, is only important for revenue, and energy. The Holier than thous up at the top (passing time till they get ginormous pensions) can sit in their sky high offices, and inform the rest of the world that my piece of the province is simply worth filling up with water, and flushing down the drain! Oh, and don't worry, all the oil and gas revenue, will continue to pour into Victoria, so they can ensure the flowers look pretty, and the politicians can flit about, opening useless hospital extensions. Perhaps greet a ton of temporary miners. Or maybe fly over and visit with the out sourced workers in another country, maybe check up on banking matters while they are there!
Does any of what I say, ring a bell? Am I alone in my disgust with government? It is broken so badly, it lost it's ears, it's morals, and worst of all, it's common sense!! It paid for a Bollywood celebration. The reasoning to spend 11 million dollars to set up a party for another country, was.....the city of Vancouver might (and check that word,might) make 13 million dollars?? WTF do I care about the frigging city of Vancouver????Really, folks, I had to suck things up with the Olympics..oooohhhh, going to be great to advertise B.C. Come on..I see a flood of tourists lining up to spend money in this area. Oh, I forgot, the Liberal plan was to flood this region, so silly, we don't need tourists!!
In my mind (using a small portion of common sense) why can't our government give the Film industry the tax breaks they have been crying for, and.....all those folks who go to movies, will see B.C. and they will come, and they will spend money...Do you think I am off the wall? Hummm...maybe Christy can suck 2 million out of that?
I have been ranting about Site C, and that looms over my head like a sword. The Liberals claim without this, the rest of the province won't get the big cash revenues from LNG. Our province won't get money for energy we are shipping to China, unless we spend 10's (and I do think this project will cost, not 10, but 10's) of billions of dollars to flood the Peace, to build a dam, to allow liquid natural gas to provide energy to another country!!
LNG is not green enough for our province, you say. Well, so it will be used in another country, the emissions will float into the air of China, Helloooo...why the Hell is that O.K., and using our own LNG here is not? This makes our government the worlds biggest, frigging Hypocrites!! I don't give a rats ass if we sell China LNG, go right ahead, we need money, and we need to ensure regulations, and consultation. But, if we are going to reap the benefit of LNG, why can't we use it, to provide the energy needed? Honest, I am just speaking what appears to be common sense!
I see I am losing control. Even typing is becoming noisy. Just spend a few moments to stew with some of what bashes about in my brain. Perhaps you can understand why I am the maddest human being on the planet.
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
Intervention
WhoooHooo..it's here!! The day off I have been looking forwards to forever. This is the day that everything I have had in the back of my mind to do, will get done!! Yes!!! Oh so many things. Move this from here, put that there, drag this inside, put this downstairs, and on and on and on. Hah!!What am I doing? I am still sitting here in front of the computer, debating what, exactly, to do first. This debating is wearing, I am soooo tired. I don't think I can possibly get more than one of the thousands of things done, and cripes, that one is pushing it.
Oh, the biggest issue, holding me back, is, most of the jobs require more than one person. There are many little jobs I could do alone, but..no, I feel I must wait until my son wakes up (which may be much later.ooops, make that, will be much later) and those little jobs, well, gee, I suppose I could do most of them after work. Why waste a day off?
Instead I sit here. This has become so frigging addictive, I am blown away. Who imagined millions of people hidden away, sitting in one room hour after hour, living their lives? My friend tells me, my computer is my hobby, I don't know. I think my computer has become my life!!
What is the first thing I do after getting out of bed? Used to be, I would head off to the bathroom, not now, first thing, I click the on button to my world, then I go to the bathroom. When that is done, my world is on-screen. Cripes, then I have to leave it for yet another minute, turn on the Tassimo, and get my caffine fix. I almost hate sucking that last mouthful back, because I must leave my life sitting for moments again, wasting precious time. Do I have to shower today? Damn, yet more time away, what will happen in the moments I spend ensuring my hair is not sticking up? Really!! There has been no morning that I missed a damn thing, during bathroom, or coffee breaks. WTF am I thinking? Do I imagine a message popping up stating I must immediately respond, otherwise I will miss out on a Million dollars? Or, maybe a suddenly medical blurp, stating the coffee I am drinking is contaminated, and I will suffer a painful death , unless I stand on my head, within a specified time.
How the hell did I get myself into this? Really, I have handed every single free moment to the computer. I am addicted to free casino slots, I click into my e-mail every 15 minutes, hoping there is a wonderous message from a dear friend (seldom there), I forget that I have tied the dog outside, when I get caught up in something. I can blind myself to all that must be done, simply by sitting in front of the keyboard.
Something that used to be a way to communicate with friends far away, has consumed me. I love my honey, but, I will leave him sitting alone, to go into my other world. I get mad at my family for sitting there with their damn cell phones, pecking away, in their worlds. I don't have a cell phone, too high and mighty to pack one of those about, instead, I have my hulking desk top. I think it is better my internet world is not portable, I would be a wasted pile of human flesh, if I had access 24-7. This way, I actually accomplish work while at my job. I think, deep down, I realize, if I had a cell phone, I would simply disappear from the real world.
I think it is time for an intervention!! Holy crap, I need help!! I use this machine like an appendage. It is my mouth to the world. I enjoy spewing my guts, I love the ability to connect instantly to government, companies, groups, that I don't agree with, and spit my venom. It is a relief to mutter to myself, as I type what it is I mutter and send it off to the source of my disagreement. Yes, I have said, I really don't give a rat's a$$ about what people think, I have to state my opinion, but, HOLA, I disagree so much, I have made this a full time position!
Oh, the blog, it is a small part of this, and I will never stop popping in to speak my mind. I just have to try and wean myself. I have got to get back into the real world. Maybe it is O.K. to spend every free moment in the midst of winter, sitting here, pretending I don't live in the sub arctic. Now, it is attempting to be spring, my yard awaits, my housework awaits.
I will have to assure myself that the moment I go off-line, I won't miss something incredible. I will have to accept scrolling through Facebook. Friends won't mind if I don't comment within moments of a message, right? They will understand, there is another world out there, and I have to go back, to the sunshine, and living.
Wish me luck, just have to get dressed first, apparently that is a requirement , nightgowns are frowned upon outside!
Oh, the biggest issue, holding me back, is, most of the jobs require more than one person. There are many little jobs I could do alone, but..no, I feel I must wait until my son wakes up (which may be much later.ooops, make that, will be much later) and those little jobs, well, gee, I suppose I could do most of them after work. Why waste a day off?
Instead I sit here. This has become so frigging addictive, I am blown away. Who imagined millions of people hidden away, sitting in one room hour after hour, living their lives? My friend tells me, my computer is my hobby, I don't know. I think my computer has become my life!!
What is the first thing I do after getting out of bed? Used to be, I would head off to the bathroom, not now, first thing, I click the on button to my world, then I go to the bathroom. When that is done, my world is on-screen. Cripes, then I have to leave it for yet another minute, turn on the Tassimo, and get my caffine fix. I almost hate sucking that last mouthful back, because I must leave my life sitting for moments again, wasting precious time. Do I have to shower today? Damn, yet more time away, what will happen in the moments I spend ensuring my hair is not sticking up? Really!! There has been no morning that I missed a damn thing, during bathroom, or coffee breaks. WTF am I thinking? Do I imagine a message popping up stating I must immediately respond, otherwise I will miss out on a Million dollars? Or, maybe a suddenly medical blurp, stating the coffee I am drinking is contaminated, and I will suffer a painful death , unless I stand on my head, within a specified time.
How the hell did I get myself into this? Really, I have handed every single free moment to the computer. I am addicted to free casino slots, I click into my e-mail every 15 minutes, hoping there is a wonderous message from a dear friend (seldom there), I forget that I have tied the dog outside, when I get caught up in something. I can blind myself to all that must be done, simply by sitting in front of the keyboard.
Something that used to be a way to communicate with friends far away, has consumed me. I love my honey, but, I will leave him sitting alone, to go into my other world. I get mad at my family for sitting there with their damn cell phones, pecking away, in their worlds. I don't have a cell phone, too high and mighty to pack one of those about, instead, I have my hulking desk top. I think it is better my internet world is not portable, I would be a wasted pile of human flesh, if I had access 24-7. This way, I actually accomplish work while at my job. I think, deep down, I realize, if I had a cell phone, I would simply disappear from the real world.
I think it is time for an intervention!! Holy crap, I need help!! I use this machine like an appendage. It is my mouth to the world. I enjoy spewing my guts, I love the ability to connect instantly to government, companies, groups, that I don't agree with, and spit my venom. It is a relief to mutter to myself, as I type what it is I mutter and send it off to the source of my disagreement. Yes, I have said, I really don't give a rat's a$$ about what people think, I have to state my opinion, but, HOLA, I disagree so much, I have made this a full time position!
Oh, the blog, it is a small part of this, and I will never stop popping in to speak my mind. I just have to try and wean myself. I have got to get back into the real world. Maybe it is O.K. to spend every free moment in the midst of winter, sitting here, pretending I don't live in the sub arctic. Now, it is attempting to be spring, my yard awaits, my housework awaits.
I will have to assure myself that the moment I go off-line, I won't miss something incredible. I will have to accept scrolling through Facebook. Friends won't mind if I don't comment within moments of a message, right? They will understand, there is another world out there, and I have to go back, to the sunshine, and living.
Wish me luck, just have to get dressed first, apparently that is a requirement , nightgowns are frowned upon outside!
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Hypocrite
I think that is what I am!! I have been trashing stuff about in my brain since yesterday, and now I question myself. You know me, I tend to say what I think, regarding pretty much everything, and anything. I doubt there is anything I don't have my own personal take on, and ....surprise, most of it is , of course, negative. I warned you long ago, I live on the dark side.
I know I am not always right, but, hey, I think I am right the majority of the time. When I am confronted by something, I try and study up on it, then my mind clamps down, with whatever decision I make, and I sit solid right on the side of the fence I choose. It takes an awful big storm to get me to stand up and move, even an inch to the other side. Lord it would take a typhoon to get me to pack over to the other side!That would be the stubborn Scot side of my makeup. The French side is the one that feels the need to voice my opinion. No discrimination here, I am who I am, and all that comes forth on this page, comes directly from my heart!
So, suddenly my world has been rocked off it's foundation. I am wandering without a clear opinion on something that has confronted me. Now, I am afraid that what I once felt, is no longer true. No, that's not it! I still feel the same, except, I think the wind might have been blowing harder than ever before.
Yesterday, I saw that the Mayor of my old hometown, had decided to contact Spectra Energy, to have them visit the town, and give a presentation on project plans. It is clear she hopes that the town can somehow join up, and get some benefit.
So, how do I feel about possible pipelines in my sacred territory?
I spent years in council meetings here fighting to allow Oil and Gas. We fought against a Hydroid community that was dead set against allowing this industry to start up. Years have passed, the oil and gas industry has grown in leaps and bounds, it surrounds the area. However....what has the community, itself, benefitted from this industry? Are there truckloads of High school graduates walking out the school doors, into job positions with the industry? NO!! Do we have indoor swimming pools (to enjoy when it is -40 outside)? NO!! Do the business's around town haul fistfulls of money, from the increase in the population? NO!! Are there houses built, and an influx of population?NO!! Why? Mostly because the town decided they did not want to deal with the outflow from this industry. They were set in stone it was not going to change the way of life. The industry built a road that by passed the town. They gave up any benefits they could have received, and like anything government gets a cash flow from, the industry presses on. Now, sadly, instead of oil and gas, we have to fight Hydro, and that, my friends, is not something that you can weedle and fight for benefits and compensation.
However, my fear is that this Council is not experienced enough on how to deal with a Huge Energy company. This company has tons of money, and tons of shareholders, and wants to ensure they get the most for the least. I worry that this council will sit behind closed doors and make decisions without proper guidance from learned people who can read between the lines. I worry that they will not take the opportunity to ensure they are compensated for the future. I worry that they will not insist that they are first on the list when it comes to workers, and that they will not ensure the young people have a guarantee to become employees of Spectra.
I see pipelines built in my area all the time. Are there locals working? NO!! The company contracts the work out, and pickups and cars arrive in town bearing license plates from Ontario and Saskatchewan, heck, even Cape Breton!! The crew comes along with their partners, who get hired for smaller jobs. The whole thing is outside the town, they are simply a group that arrives, does the project, and then disappears. On their days off, they head to the larger community to enjoy themselves, and shop. Then there is a lull, and the license plates show up once again. Sure, there are 3-4 folks who get hired on, but generally they get on the jobs that are short term, because they do not have the specialized experience.
I hope that if this does go farther, that people remember the Mine. That they remember the Christmas parties, when the company invited every single child in town, and gifts were given simply by age group (not who had a parent working for the company). I hope they remember that 1/2 the guys from school went off to Trades School in grade 10, and were hired by the mine when they came home to apprentice. I hope they remember the pool, and the contributions to the Arena, and everything else that our town benefited by a company that truly was a part of us. I hope that if they do decide to open the doors, and accept the future of LNG, that they look to the future. Look to what you can receive that will last. Ensure you have proper representation, experts on policies and regulations. Make sure you cover all issues which could result, make sure you are protected, and look far outside the box. Write reams of rules, and get contracts that remove responsibility from the tax payers to the company. They have the money, they have the plans, YOU hold all the cards, do NOT drop them!!
Ahhhh..now I feel better. I was thinking I was against something I worked towards welcoming here. I'm not, I am still pro-progress, and not a Hypocrite. I just want to make sure, those in charge, realize, you can open the door, but once it has been opened, there is no turning back. Do not accept a penny for today, when tomorrow will cost you a dollar. Before you make a decision, call in the experts on both sides, and cover your butts with a huge paper trail.
I know I am not always right, but, hey, I think I am right the majority of the time. When I am confronted by something, I try and study up on it, then my mind clamps down, with whatever decision I make, and I sit solid right on the side of the fence I choose. It takes an awful big storm to get me to stand up and move, even an inch to the other side. Lord it would take a typhoon to get me to pack over to the other side!That would be the stubborn Scot side of my makeup. The French side is the one that feels the need to voice my opinion. No discrimination here, I am who I am, and all that comes forth on this page, comes directly from my heart!
So, suddenly my world has been rocked off it's foundation. I am wandering without a clear opinion on something that has confronted me. Now, I am afraid that what I once felt, is no longer true. No, that's not it! I still feel the same, except, I think the wind might have been blowing harder than ever before.
Yesterday, I saw that the Mayor of my old hometown, had decided to contact Spectra Energy, to have them visit the town, and give a presentation on project plans. It is clear she hopes that the town can somehow join up, and get some benefit.
So, how do I feel about possible pipelines in my sacred territory?
I spent years in council meetings here fighting to allow Oil and Gas. We fought against a Hydroid community that was dead set against allowing this industry to start up. Years have passed, the oil and gas industry has grown in leaps and bounds, it surrounds the area. However....what has the community, itself, benefitted from this industry? Are there truckloads of High school graduates walking out the school doors, into job positions with the industry? NO!! Do we have indoor swimming pools (to enjoy when it is -40 outside)? NO!! Do the business's around town haul fistfulls of money, from the increase in the population? NO!! Are there houses built, and an influx of population?NO!! Why? Mostly because the town decided they did not want to deal with the outflow from this industry. They were set in stone it was not going to change the way of life. The industry built a road that by passed the town. They gave up any benefits they could have received, and like anything government gets a cash flow from, the industry presses on. Now, sadly, instead of oil and gas, we have to fight Hydro, and that, my friends, is not something that you can weedle and fight for benefits and compensation.
However, my fear is that this Council is not experienced enough on how to deal with a Huge Energy company. This company has tons of money, and tons of shareholders, and wants to ensure they get the most for the least. I worry that this council will sit behind closed doors and make decisions without proper guidance from learned people who can read between the lines. I worry that they will not take the opportunity to ensure they are compensated for the future. I worry that they will not insist that they are first on the list when it comes to workers, and that they will not ensure the young people have a guarantee to become employees of Spectra.
I see pipelines built in my area all the time. Are there locals working? NO!! The company contracts the work out, and pickups and cars arrive in town bearing license plates from Ontario and Saskatchewan, heck, even Cape Breton!! The crew comes along with their partners, who get hired for smaller jobs. The whole thing is outside the town, they are simply a group that arrives, does the project, and then disappears. On their days off, they head to the larger community to enjoy themselves, and shop. Then there is a lull, and the license plates show up once again. Sure, there are 3-4 folks who get hired on, but generally they get on the jobs that are short term, because they do not have the specialized experience.
I hope that if this does go farther, that people remember the Mine. That they remember the Christmas parties, when the company invited every single child in town, and gifts were given simply by age group (not who had a parent working for the company). I hope they remember that 1/2 the guys from school went off to Trades School in grade 10, and were hired by the mine when they came home to apprentice. I hope they remember the pool, and the contributions to the Arena, and everything else that our town benefited by a company that truly was a part of us. I hope that if they do decide to open the doors, and accept the future of LNG, that they look to the future. Look to what you can receive that will last. Ensure you have proper representation, experts on policies and regulations. Make sure you cover all issues which could result, make sure you are protected, and look far outside the box. Write reams of rules, and get contracts that remove responsibility from the tax payers to the company. They have the money, they have the plans, YOU hold all the cards, do NOT drop them!!
Ahhhh..now I feel better. I was thinking I was against something I worked towards welcoming here. I'm not, I am still pro-progress, and not a Hypocrite. I just want to make sure, those in charge, realize, you can open the door, but once it has been opened, there is no turning back. Do not accept a penny for today, when tomorrow will cost you a dollar. Before you make a decision, call in the experts on both sides, and cover your butts with a huge paper trail.
Friday, 5 April 2013
Son's Vs. Daughters
Whoa, hold onto your hats kiddies, this is number two in the same day!! I was just sitting here, gambling money that isn't real on the slots (I am suppose to be cleaning), and suddenly this little tidbit pops into my head. You must remember, there is a huge clutter of crapola buried under the Dam business, and I guess this just struggled to the surface, as I was losing.
I am the mother to , 3 children, girl,boy, girl. Now, I imagine if the numbers were reversed, perhaps, life would be different, but, they aren't, so this is it.
My daughters have whined for years, I treat my son differently (I expect "better") than them. My Honey has admitted he sees it. I, personally have tried to treat them all with the same affection, and I do hope they realize it would hurt just as much to lose one, in my mind, that is what I base all of them on..
So, I think I figured it out (while playing slots). I am lucky enough to have this forum to spit it all out, and hope that all my children read it, and sort of understand what I think is going on.
I grew up in a household, in which I was the oldest (girl) with a single brother, years younger than myself.I imagine the years I was a lone child, I was spoiled, but the memories are very faint, and I never really asked my mother about those years. Oh, there are pictures, mostly of myself and my mother, two girls dressed up, and smiling. I have a tiny memory of going visiting with my Mom, and sitting as she played cards with a very old fellow, Bill Jenkins (why I remember his name, is beyond me). But, it is just a specific time frame, the rest is blank.
I remember we (my brother and I) were treated very differently. I always got the speel, "you are the oldest, and it is up to you to be an example", "You are the oldest, and you should know better", "you are the oldest, and you should not hit your brother back", "You are the oldest, and you should let your brother play with you". On and on and on. Being the oldest sucked!!
I didn't think it had anything at all to do with my sex, however....fast forward into Teen age years. Me: "why can't I stay out past 10, you let him stay out?" Mother: "It's different, he is a boy, you are a girl". Helllooooo???? Me: "Why is he allowed to go to the poolhall, I wasn't allowed to?" Mother: "He is a boy, he can't get into trouble like girls can". Me: "Do I have a University savings fund"? Mother: "No, we only got one for your brother, because your Dad feels, girls waste higher education". Hellloooo????
So, it was apparent. I WAS different, because I WAS female. I think mothers have not changed much throughout history. Maybe the changes are happening now, much faster, and soon, things will be totally different, but, my generation was the same as my Mother's, and her Mothers, and so on and so on. Women are far different from men. You can go way back, Men always formed groups, off they went to fight battles, surrounded by hundreds of fellow men. What happened to the women? They were left alone with the family, to somehow manage to survive. Men supplied money, perhaps, back in the day, and a home, but women fought alone to keep their children alive. Women may be found in groups, but, in truth, this was only for the formative years. When they settled into a relationship, and began having children, they did it on their own.
We watched our Mothers, they cooked, they cleaned, and they were the ones who fixed our owies. They made sure we made it up in time for school, they made sure we had clothes to wear. If we woke up in the middle of the night sick, they were the ones to sit and ensure we didn't die of fever, or toothaches. They could fix most things (maybe not bike chains) and would grant you the favours like sleep overs, or birthday parties. They were capable of doing all things, and asked for nothing, but respect.
My Mother was not a hugger, or in fact a lovey person. But, boy she was tough! She did yard work, she painted the house, she did plumbing, and hauled a wringer washer in and out of the back porch. I remember one time, helping my Mother haul an old claw tub out of our bathroom and into the back yard, she could do anything!!
So, what does this have to do with treating my daughters different than my son? It is simply because, I assume my daughters will follow the same path as I did. They will dig inside, and find that female genetic marker that gives them the ability to survive, without help. That special thing that we females have that allows us to manage almost anything. I imagine my daughters have this , like all the strong women in the history of the world. I feel they are as capable as I am, and therefore, I suppose, I do treat them differently. I don't do this because I care less for them than their brother, I do it because like me, they are Women, and therefore, I feel they have the ability to be able to do all things (like housework, and cooking, and maybe even bike chains).
My son, well, he doesn't have that special something, guys just need a little more assistance. One of my daughters is married, she has 2 boys, and I KNOW she understands exactly what I am saying, because.....I can see she treats her daughter just a little bit differently than the boys. Daughters really are, ready for independence, the moment they realize their capabilities!
We are Women, hear us Roar!!!
I am the mother to , 3 children, girl,boy, girl. Now, I imagine if the numbers were reversed, perhaps, life would be different, but, they aren't, so this is it.
My daughters have whined for years, I treat my son differently (I expect "better") than them. My Honey has admitted he sees it. I, personally have tried to treat them all with the same affection, and I do hope they realize it would hurt just as much to lose one, in my mind, that is what I base all of them on..
So, I think I figured it out (while playing slots). I am lucky enough to have this forum to spit it all out, and hope that all my children read it, and sort of understand what I think is going on.
I grew up in a household, in which I was the oldest (girl) with a single brother, years younger than myself.I imagine the years I was a lone child, I was spoiled, but the memories are very faint, and I never really asked my mother about those years. Oh, there are pictures, mostly of myself and my mother, two girls dressed up, and smiling. I have a tiny memory of going visiting with my Mom, and sitting as she played cards with a very old fellow, Bill Jenkins (why I remember his name, is beyond me). But, it is just a specific time frame, the rest is blank.
I remember we (my brother and I) were treated very differently. I always got the speel, "you are the oldest, and it is up to you to be an example", "You are the oldest, and you should know better", "you are the oldest, and you should not hit your brother back", "You are the oldest, and you should let your brother play with you". On and on and on. Being the oldest sucked!!
I didn't think it had anything at all to do with my sex, however....fast forward into Teen age years. Me: "why can't I stay out past 10, you let him stay out?" Mother: "It's different, he is a boy, you are a girl". Helllooooo???? Me: "Why is he allowed to go to the poolhall, I wasn't allowed to?" Mother: "He is a boy, he can't get into trouble like girls can". Me: "Do I have a University savings fund"? Mother: "No, we only got one for your brother, because your Dad feels, girls waste higher education". Hellloooo????
So, it was apparent. I WAS different, because I WAS female. I think mothers have not changed much throughout history. Maybe the changes are happening now, much faster, and soon, things will be totally different, but, my generation was the same as my Mother's, and her Mothers, and so on and so on. Women are far different from men. You can go way back, Men always formed groups, off they went to fight battles, surrounded by hundreds of fellow men. What happened to the women? They were left alone with the family, to somehow manage to survive. Men supplied money, perhaps, back in the day, and a home, but women fought alone to keep their children alive. Women may be found in groups, but, in truth, this was only for the formative years. When they settled into a relationship, and began having children, they did it on their own.
We watched our Mothers, they cooked, they cleaned, and they were the ones who fixed our owies. They made sure we made it up in time for school, they made sure we had clothes to wear. If we woke up in the middle of the night sick, they were the ones to sit and ensure we didn't die of fever, or toothaches. They could fix most things (maybe not bike chains) and would grant you the favours like sleep overs, or birthday parties. They were capable of doing all things, and asked for nothing, but respect.
My Mother was not a hugger, or in fact a lovey person. But, boy she was tough! She did yard work, she painted the house, she did plumbing, and hauled a wringer washer in and out of the back porch. I remember one time, helping my Mother haul an old claw tub out of our bathroom and into the back yard, she could do anything!!
So, what does this have to do with treating my daughters different than my son? It is simply because, I assume my daughters will follow the same path as I did. They will dig inside, and find that female genetic marker that gives them the ability to survive, without help. That special thing that we females have that allows us to manage almost anything. I imagine my daughters have this , like all the strong women in the history of the world. I feel they are as capable as I am, and therefore, I suppose, I do treat them differently. I don't do this because I care less for them than their brother, I do it because like me, they are Women, and therefore, I feel they have the ability to be able to do all things (like housework, and cooking, and maybe even bike chains).
My son, well, he doesn't have that special something, guys just need a little more assistance. One of my daughters is married, she has 2 boys, and I KNOW she understands exactly what I am saying, because.....I can see she treats her daughter just a little bit differently than the boys. Daughters really are, ready for independence, the moment they realize their capabilities!
We are Women, hear us Roar!!!
50's the New 40's or 30's, or 20's?????
So, You all know, I am as old as the hills! Hey, no need to hide those facts, otherwise, folks would be concerned someone young, looked as beat up as I do. I earned every single frigging wrinkle (smoking probably helped with a few), the saggy gut, well, that was thanks to a bit of a couple of things, one, eatting a fine diet of potato chips, and sugar, and the other, having 3 squalling kidlets chopped out severing my stomach muscles. I dye my hair, so that doesn't always tell my age, and I dye it something I wasn't born with, because, that would be far too boring!!
Now that I can afford it (sort of), I would love to buy a sparkly dress (like the Supreme's wore) or spike heeled sparkly shoes, or cut my hair something fantabulous, with various colours involved. But....I am too old, my arms now have that flubbery jello consistency, every move, makes them jiggle, so sleeveless is out of the question. I always thought tanned skin could handle the jiggle a little better, but, in my world, that is not an option. If I attempted to do what is apparently now very unhealthy, and get an awesome tan, it would certainly make a nice dark hue to the upper part of my arms, but i would end up like marble cake, you would always see the vanilla part, and that would likely add to the notice of the jello arms.
Growing up in a very small town, I had to hide my light under a cover of brown. I was Goth before Goth was cool. I wanted so badly to have black hair and white lipstick (white lipstick was in when I was young), but, wasn't going to happen in my world! I had to follow the norm, the biggest fear was "what are others going to say"? I tell friends now, that I was a "good girl" and I was. Not because I wanted to be, but because I was frightened to death of some other person in town, telling my parents they saw me doing such and such.
Back in the day, my parents could do very little to punish, didn't have a computer, didn't have my own TV (no one did) wasn't allowed to use the single family phone, all I had was a mono record player, my books, and the ability to go out with friends. So punishment was often physical, I can't ever remember getting grounded, and I actually think, to get the strap was preferable to me. Hey, it was over quickly, they made their point (I knew if I did it again, exactly what would happen) and then I could go out and moan to my friends, about how mean my parents were.
I never wore makeup growing up, as it was not something accepted in my home. I tried, perhaps once, to go out the door with mascara and lipstick on, and was told I looked like Bozo the clown, and to go wash my face. To this day, I can't stand makeup, always feel like I am caked in something, so...the wrinkles run free, the dark spots, and shadows under my eyes give me the Au Natural look. I am aware it may be frightening to young children, but....like my hero Si Robertson says "HEY"!! I will never be embarassed without painting my face and going out in public. Folks won't say, "whoa, she looks way older today, than she did yesterday"! I consistently look my age (maybe a few years older).
The only difference is, there are many times i do not realize my age. I hear how 50 is now the new middle age (think that used to be 30). Could be true. I admit to watching that analality on TV, Housewives of....., and those women are in their 50's. They are Botoxed to the rim, de-haired, de-veined , dehydrated, de-fatted, and totally in denial. But cripes, they sure don't look like 50 used to. Hey, I didn't even come close to looking that prime in my 20's!Oh, and they wear the sparkly dresses and the damn spiked heels!!
WTF??? I may forget my age for moments, or sometimes even hours, but, if I shoved a pair of spiked heels on my duck feet now, I would last only moments before they would have to come off, and my poor paws were able to spread out flat, where they would continue to holler at me for days.
I think I could manage to forget about how old I actually am, if my frigging body would cooperate. At the ripe old age of 56, when I stub my toe against the side of the bathtub, you may as well have taken a hammer to it. I assume my skin is now, besides full of wrinkles, as thin as paper. A tap on the foot, will cause the skin to rip right off, and damage me for weeks. I hit stuccoed walls with my hand, and skin peels. The dog hits my head with his, and I am black and blue. Hellloooo...reality!!
Because I don't have the mega millions to get myself all de-ed (guess spell check is telling me that's not a word, but you get it, right?) I will simply have to accept, 56 is exactly what it is...old!!Nothing new about me at all!!! And, although I regret all the pains and aches that my past has caused to my 56 year old bones, and I wish my skin was subtle and not folded over in waves, I embrace what 56 years has given in gifts.
I do not have to worry about "what other people think" , I do not have to try and act my age (and not my shoe size) I don't have to worry about making it in the real world, because I have been in the real world a lifetime. I don't have to worry about getting knocked up, LOL...I don't have to worry about having the latest fashions, or wearing colours that don't match, who the F*ck cares? I don't have to worry about growing old alone, got that covered. And I have memories to envy, and I am still making them.
So, I suppose I can forget the sparkly dress, or perhaps just buy one some day, and wear it while I sit here nattering to you (Hey, might be doing just that right now, instead of my typical Betty Boop PJ's). I recognize my age, and I would keep it. I would however, like it if science could come up with an injection that could plump my damn skin up with some water, and then pop another needle into my bones full of Moo Juice (didn't drink near enough of that as a kid). That would be pretty near perfect!!
Now that I can afford it (sort of), I would love to buy a sparkly dress (like the Supreme's wore) or spike heeled sparkly shoes, or cut my hair something fantabulous, with various colours involved. But....I am too old, my arms now have that flubbery jello consistency, every move, makes them jiggle, so sleeveless is out of the question. I always thought tanned skin could handle the jiggle a little better, but, in my world, that is not an option. If I attempted to do what is apparently now very unhealthy, and get an awesome tan, it would certainly make a nice dark hue to the upper part of my arms, but i would end up like marble cake, you would always see the vanilla part, and that would likely add to the notice of the jello arms.
Growing up in a very small town, I had to hide my light under a cover of brown. I was Goth before Goth was cool. I wanted so badly to have black hair and white lipstick (white lipstick was in when I was young), but, wasn't going to happen in my world! I had to follow the norm, the biggest fear was "what are others going to say"? I tell friends now, that I was a "good girl" and I was. Not because I wanted to be, but because I was frightened to death of some other person in town, telling my parents they saw me doing such and such.
Back in the day, my parents could do very little to punish, didn't have a computer, didn't have my own TV (no one did) wasn't allowed to use the single family phone, all I had was a mono record player, my books, and the ability to go out with friends. So punishment was often physical, I can't ever remember getting grounded, and I actually think, to get the strap was preferable to me. Hey, it was over quickly, they made their point (I knew if I did it again, exactly what would happen) and then I could go out and moan to my friends, about how mean my parents were.
I never wore makeup growing up, as it was not something accepted in my home. I tried, perhaps once, to go out the door with mascara and lipstick on, and was told I looked like Bozo the clown, and to go wash my face. To this day, I can't stand makeup, always feel like I am caked in something, so...the wrinkles run free, the dark spots, and shadows under my eyes give me the Au Natural look. I am aware it may be frightening to young children, but....like my hero Si Robertson says "HEY"!! I will never be embarassed without painting my face and going out in public. Folks won't say, "whoa, she looks way older today, than she did yesterday"! I consistently look my age (maybe a few years older).
The only difference is, there are many times i do not realize my age. I hear how 50 is now the new middle age (think that used to be 30). Could be true. I admit to watching that analality on TV, Housewives of....., and those women are in their 50's. They are Botoxed to the rim, de-haired, de-veined , dehydrated, de-fatted, and totally in denial. But cripes, they sure don't look like 50 used to. Hey, I didn't even come close to looking that prime in my 20's!Oh, and they wear the sparkly dresses and the damn spiked heels!!
WTF??? I may forget my age for moments, or sometimes even hours, but, if I shoved a pair of spiked heels on my duck feet now, I would last only moments before they would have to come off, and my poor paws were able to spread out flat, where they would continue to holler at me for days.
I think I could manage to forget about how old I actually am, if my frigging body would cooperate. At the ripe old age of 56, when I stub my toe against the side of the bathtub, you may as well have taken a hammer to it. I assume my skin is now, besides full of wrinkles, as thin as paper. A tap on the foot, will cause the skin to rip right off, and damage me for weeks. I hit stuccoed walls with my hand, and skin peels. The dog hits my head with his, and I am black and blue. Hellloooo...reality!!
Because I don't have the mega millions to get myself all de-ed (guess spell check is telling me that's not a word, but you get it, right?) I will simply have to accept, 56 is exactly what it is...old!!Nothing new about me at all!!! And, although I regret all the pains and aches that my past has caused to my 56 year old bones, and I wish my skin was subtle and not folded over in waves, I embrace what 56 years has given in gifts.
I do not have to worry about "what other people think" , I do not have to try and act my age (and not my shoe size) I don't have to worry about making it in the real world, because I have been in the real world a lifetime. I don't have to worry about getting knocked up, LOL...I don't have to worry about having the latest fashions, or wearing colours that don't match, who the F*ck cares? I don't have to worry about growing old alone, got that covered. And I have memories to envy, and I am still making them.
So, I suppose I can forget the sparkly dress, or perhaps just buy one some day, and wear it while I sit here nattering to you (Hey, might be doing just that right now, instead of my typical Betty Boop PJ's). I recognize my age, and I would keep it. I would however, like it if science could come up with an injection that could plump my damn skin up with some water, and then pop another needle into my bones full of Moo Juice (didn't drink near enough of that as a kid). That would be pretty near perfect!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)