"Letting Go" - A Misguided Notion

If you believe that "letting go" is defined as "letting go of the hope that the past will be any different", then I'm in total agreement and have "let go" of pretty much EVERYTHING in my life.  However, if you believe that "letting go" means "forgiving" and or "forgetting" then, we have met at our em-pass.   I truly believe the the notion of "letting go" is probably the most personal and yet confusing process of ones life.  The term is over used and often misunderstood.

First of all, and possibly most importantly, look to the person who's asking you to "let it go".  Do they have a vested interest in your "forgetting" about whatever happened?  Are they themselves the one who has wronged you?  If so, ask yourself this....what do I have to gain by forgetting how badly they've hurt me?  You see, I feel, and rather strongly too, that people asking you to move on from THEIR mistake are probably feeling one of several ways.  Firstly, they could feel ashamed.  Embarrassed by their mistake, they hope that it can be moved on from quickly.  No one wants to be reminded of what they've done wrong.  Second, they could feel impatient to "move on" with their lives and simply don't want to invest the time into the relationship with you that is required to see you through the grieving process.  Thirdly, they may feel as though they haven't wronged you in any way and are simply just trying to appease you and are truly eager to "put the whole misunderstanding behind you" and get on with the rest of their lives.  Lastly, they may have found it impossible to ever be held accountable for their wrong doing, because they fail to ever acknowledge that they've EVER done wrong.

The last group are the ones to look out for.  In my personal experience, these are the folks whom "appear" the most confident.  I mean, why wouldn't they be?  They've never been wrong a day in their lives, right?  How nice must THAT be?  Shockingly, these have also been the people in my life with the most "friends".  Like moths to a flame, we are drawn to them, it seems.  After all, confidence IS very attractive.  But, if that confidence comes out of the arrogance and flat out WRONG idea that they're never wrong and therefore are somehow superior to everyone else, then LOOK OUT!!!

What if, the person telling you to "let it go", ISN"T the person who's wronged you?  What does that mean?  I believe that this request also has several possible causes.  Firstly, that person may feel very uncomfortable with what you're sharing with them.  They don't know how to handle it and/ or don't have any idea how to fix it (even if you're not looking for a "fix").  It seems that some people, hell, maybe MOST people instinctively feel like, if you're telling them something, you must want them to fix it.  WRONGO, people!!  Sometimes, just saying something out loud can help relieve the pressure of it.  Even things that seem quire grave, need to be spoken of.  Keeping things locked in a dark closet somewhere doesn't make them go away.  Back to subject, though.....it's highly possible that you're just making the "other person" feel bad.  People don't like to feel bad.  When they DO feel bad, they want it to stop.  First line of defense?  Tell YOU to "let it go".  They'll put this discomfort back on you and hope and pray that you drop the subject entirely.  Hm?  Does this speak more about MY issue, or theirs?

Secondly, you might have struck a nerve.  Perhaps, they share this issue and don't want to share it with you.  Fair enough, I suppose.  However, I will beg the question again....my problem or theirs?  When you chose to share something with someone else you are, in fact, inviting them INTO your life.  Inviting them INTO your heart.  Each of us have a choice in that moment.  Protect ourselves or shine a light on that secret hiding in the back of our emotional closets?  If someone has opened the door to your closet, and you feel safe inviting them in, then why not do it?  You may feel as though you've gotten closer to "letting go" of your dark closet issue then they have and that makes you feel superior.  Just stop right there.  Maybe YOU"RE the one that they need in order to feel at peace with the past.  Don't let an old wound fester.  Even if you feel like it's all bandaged up and healing nicely.  It's still good to take a peak at it now and again, just to make sure.

Lastly, maybe the person with whom you've just opened up to just truly doesn't give two shits about you.  Possible.  Even people who tout themselves as our friends have limits with said "affection".  Learn your audience.  I may have known you for a decade, but, alas, I've found that you don't want to hear word one about my health or my past suffered abuses.  Fair enough.

Let's examine the misguided notion of "letting go" at its core, though, shall we?  If I simply "let go" of the painful memory of touching a red burner, then perhaps I would be inclined to want to touch one again, no?  Pain is a gift, folks.  I don't want to let go of it.  I WANT to remember it.  I WANT to remember what caused it.  I WANT to remember WHO caused it.  I WANT to remember what to NOT EVER do again.  I CHOOSE to remember.  I believe that it's wise to keep your pain close to your heart. It's smart to protect yourself.  As long as you're not encasing your heart with the pain or building a brick wall with it and removing yourself from the wonderful adventure this life holds for you!  However, if your pain immediately recognizes a person, even if they're in a different body, perhaps you should be a bit slow to welcome them into your life.  That pain will guide you to good people and veer you away from bad.  My pain is my friend.  It's part of who I am.

If you just can't stand that fact and insist on experiencing me sans my pain, then I suppose that again, we've come to an em-pass.  I respect your pain.  I acknowledge it.  I welcome it, as I do my own.  With pain has come wisdom.  So, the next time you tell someone to just "let it go".......think long and hard about why you're doing that?   Is if for them?  Or yourself?

Take a deep breath.............it's just another day in Perfect!!!!

Word Play

I am hopelessly, hopeful.

I am unapologizingly, apologetic.

I am uncompromisingly, compromising.

I find wealth, in my poverty. 

I am gracefully, ungraceful. 

I am sorry for being sorrowful.

I am a believer of the unbelievable.

I am healed by my illnesses.

I am discreetly indiscreet. 

I am unsecretively, secretive.

I am truthfully, truthful.

I am desperately trying to not be so desperate.

I have been rejected for being a reject.

I am quietly screaming.

I feel that I feel too much.

I long to be longed for.

I miss being missed.

I am extroverted introvertedly. 

I am passionately passionate.

I am motivated to become motivated.

I find strength is my biggest weakness.

I find weakness is my biggest strength. 

I am afraid that I’ll be afraid forever.

I have let go of letting go. 

I have forgiven the unforgivable.

I have been alone in a room full of people. 

I forget just exactly what it is that I’ve forgotten.

I am unaware of what I am unaware of.

I am angry with myself for being angry with myself.

I love being loved.

I love loving. 

I would have higher self-esteem, if I had self-esteem.

I am wonderfully ordinary.

I am ordinarily wonderful.

I am beautifully plain.

I am plainly beautiful. 

I am unreally, real.

I anticipate the unanticipated.

I see you, with my eyes closed.

I can be touched from across the world.

I am persistently persistent. 

I am viciously kind.

I am wrong to think that I am wrong all the time.

I am more comfortable being uncomfortable.

I am safer when I am in danger.

I am balanced as I fall.

I am complexly simple.

I am simply complex.

I am deeply deep.

I can hear what you’re not saying. 

I have words that have been unheard. 

I Live in a Box............

I live in a box.  So do you.  Now, before you get all snobby on me and look around and say "This is so NOT a box!", hear me out.  I live in a box and so do you.  Your home is a box.  Now that box might be 5000 square feet.  It's still a box.

You have no idea what goes on inside of someone else's box.  Ever.  Don't think for a minute that your next door neighbor and quote unquote BEST friend doesn't do things inside her box that would shock you.  Conversely, no one truly knows what goes on inside your box either.  Even if you talk to said BFF twenty times a day,  you still do not know what the inside of her box holds.  There are times when that box is so stressed out and over heated that you could pop popcorn just by walking in the front door.  You'd never know it though.  Most people want to paint a pretty picture of what the inside of their box looks like.  Most people want you to think that life is all peaches and cream and bliss and the like.  Hopefully, most people are right.  But even in that, there are secrets.  Little behaviors that people save for their spouses or children. Small walls that are brought up the moment someone else enters the box, or we venture outside of it.

We're protected by our boxes.  We need our boxes.  Can you even imagine knowing all of those intimate little things about all of your friends, family....neighbors?  No, thank you!   See....I get it now.  I understand that the "over sharing" part of me was really searching for something.  Something that's impossible to find, externally; outside my box.  I've come to thrive on the protection I get from my box.  I've learnt to see it as a safe haven.  A place to relish, not fear.  As a child, my box wasn't very safe.  Unfortunately, the "protection" that's afford to us by our boxes, can be hurtful.  Sometimes --- it protects the wrong people. You see, can't we all "get away" with a lot...in side our box?   I now understand that my need to "live in a glass house" came from my absolute terror at the idea of a secret.  The notion that there could be something, anything, happening inside my box that the world didn't know about.  I equated that with dishonesty and deceit.  There again, though---it's because of what went on my private little "box", in the past, that has caused me so much heartache inside the box of today.

Those of us with, shall we say ----- larger boxes ------  might be tempted to look down our noses at those with a smaller box or a rented box or a literal box.  Walk softly people.  I know lots of people who have NO PLACE looking down their noses at anyone.  Truly, I feel that pride does proceed a fall.  Walk softly because "there but by the grace of God, go I", is a true statement.  Walk softly; in someone else's shoes for a week.  A month.  A year.  Don't think that just because they live down the block from your box that their box holds the same kind of love or warmth or compassion.  Behind the fanciest of front doors, inside the largest boxes known to man --  there can be a cold wind blowing, continuously.

When you see that lady who's always depressed at the grocery store and want to run the other way, stop.  Think about it.  Why is she so sad? What has happened to her, inside of a box, that no one knows about? That she either can't or won't say?  Yes, our boxes offer us protection, alright.  They shelter us from the storm.  They can also keep us from the daylight.  They are supposed to be our "soft place to fall".  For some of us, they're just a place TO fall.  To never feel warmth or peace. For those of you who have been lucky enough to always have a warm, safe, calm, loving box ---- drop down on your knees right now and thank God.  Then, once you get back up, examine your life.  Think about those folks who you think you know.  Think back to all those "little things", that have seemed --- odd.  Desperate.  Confusing.  Hell, maybe they've even annoyed the hell out of you.  Stop.  Think.  Realize.  The inside of my box might not be as wonderful as yours.  Maybe, it's ten times better.  Let's just pretend that you don't know what goes on inside of anyone's box (because, frankly....you don't!).  Can you be forgiving?  Can you open up your heart to someone who you only think that you know?  Can you accept the fact that just because you can't see what goes on "behind closed doors", doesn't mean that it's not real?  That it doesn't mean that, even your best friend, might not be going through something that you know absolutely nothing about?  Can you have the grace to love them --- anyway?  After all, I love you; even though I have no idea what goes on.........inside your little box!

My wish for all of us, regardless of the size, shape, color or location of your box is to know; I mean, really, really know, to the depths of our soul that we never really know someone else.  You're not inside their head.  You're not even "inside the box" all the time.  Even if you live together!!  There are those quiet moments for each of us.  Those moments in which we feel less than.  Less than pretty.  Less than smart.  Less than kind.  Less than successful.  If you can greet each new day with the realization that the world is full of mystery and, much to my dismay, secrets, then maybe you'll also be able to greet each day as an opportunity to reach out to someone new.  Someone outside your comfort zone.  That person might be sitting at the desk next to you or that person could even be your spouse.  My wish is that we could each see the wonder inside of the person, regardless of the box they hide in.

Take a deep breath...............it's just another day in Perfect!!!!!!

My Life Is...........

Rich - I'm wealthy enough to buy groceries when I need them.  A huge percentage of the worlds population can NOT do this.  We take it for granted.  I have two beautiful daughters, a loving, compassionate husband, one unendingly loving dog and one wise cat.   All things money can not buy!

Beautiful - There's nothing like my sweet angel babies faces.  While they're sleeping.  There's also nothing like the sound of their laughter.  Even when they're fighting, I see it as a gift.  They have each other to love.  Today, tomorrow and forever.  I have them to love, too.  Watching them blossom into the gorgeous people they've become has been something stunning to see.  A vision even more breathtaking than the Grand Canyon.

Warm - I have those same girls, husband, dog and cat to love on me and keep me warm.  Inside and out.  My home is heated and we have more than enough blankets to go around.  Something none of us should forget.  Especially now when it's so cold.  Your "old blanket" could save a life.

Messy - My definition of clean and my girls definition are NOT the same.  Even when my house is clean, it's a mess.  My sweet girls have large closets and beds, in which to hide their multitude of "treasures".  Being "messy" is a privilege.

Full - As in full tummies, full hearts, full cupboards, full pantry, full closets.  If you leave my house hungry, it was by your own choice!

Intense - I love intensely.  I hurt intensely.  I empathize intensely.  I feel intensely.  I try very hard to teach my girls that if you're going to do something---do it 100%!

Hard - We have hard heads around here.  Especially, my girls.  I've taught them to stand firm in their convictions.  Speak the truth.  Stand up for yourself and those that can not stand up for themselves.

Peaceful -  There's nothing quite like reading a good book in my jacuzzi tub.  I relish this alone time.  It recharges my spirit, allowing me to give more freely when I'm done.  I know that finding a peaceful place within is as important as finding one somewhere in your life.  I'm thankful to have a place to calm the inner voice that threatens us all.

Amazing - I am so touched by my wonderful friends.  They fill my life with wonder.  I'm constantly amazed at how they can persevere through  trials I have scarcely dreamed of.  They love me for me.  That is truly amazing!

Wonderful - I am awe struck, every day.  I learn something new, every day.  In some ways, I'm still like a child finding wonder in simple things.  It will always amaze me how, after the winter snows all melt away, the grass finds the strength inside itself to become green again.  A lesson, we all could learn from.

Take a deep breath.................It's just another day in Perfect!!!!

Strong or Just Mean? Kind or Just Weak?

Once again, I find myself amazed.  Shocked, even.  I'd go so far as to say flat out gobsmacked. This is one time when I truly, honestly wish that I was a man.  Hell, maybe men feel this way, too.  I shouldn't jump to conclusions, should I?

I'm talking about people's opinions of other people.  Mainly, what I see as women's opinions of each other. Now, I know that people, in general, don't like change.  We'd prefer that our kind friends remain kind and that our "frenemies" also, remain so.  We like consistency people!  So, throw someone for a loop by, say, changing the way in which you allow others to treat you and POW, you've just blown up their whole world.  They don't know what to do.  How do act.  Generally, they react "poorly".  They tend to think that you've "gone around the bend" or that you've been lied to by some unknown third party.  It's easier to believe that the "real problem" here is, you.  It rarely occurs to people that, perhaps, they've been the ones who've gotten off easy all these years.  That maybe, just maybe, they never should have been allowed to treat anyone the way in which they treated you.  People COUNT on us to remain the same.  Tilt the table, even a bit, and what happens?  Everything slides off, right?

I'm super guilty of this, too, don't get me wrong.  I mean, as y'all know, I feel quite strongly about the fact that we all judge.  We all have misconceptions about each other.  We'd all like to think that it's "them" and not "us".  Well, we can't ALL be right about that one, can we?  We all envy.  We're all jealous of someone or something.  ALL OF US, Y'ALL!!!  What I find most interesting is those folks who deny that they do this at all.  Those few people who'd have us believe that they themselves are, well, perfect.  Not in every sense, of course, just in that they don't feel the need to desire anything outside of themselves.  That they're "whole".  Liar.

Now, this begs the question is that even possible?  Is it even HUMANLY possible to NOT judge anyone else?  Not to wish that you had those six pack abs or that shiny new car?  Doubtful.  So, I wonder, why do some folks feel the need to put forth an "image" of being above it all?  The answer is in the question, isn't it?  It's an image.  Plain and simple.

Furthermore, is that "mean" lady across the street, really mean or is she "just strong"?  Or is it possible, that the opposite is true and she's really "weak" and "fearful"?  Anxious and nervous about what I might think of her.  Maybe, she has a low self esteem, too.  Maybe, she's been hurt by people in the past and doesn't want a repeat performance.  See, we don't really know who people are because we never know what motivates them to act a certain way.  Hell, any way, really.  I don't know if you're being standoffish because you're "too good" for me or because you have "social anxiety", now do I?  Not at all.  Alas, I can JUDGE you and decide for myself WHY you're not talking to me or anyone else in the room.  I have just as good a chance as being wrong as I do being right.  In that moment, however, do I remember that?  Sometimes.  Usually.  I try.  I always try to understand people's behavior.  Again, I'm probably wrong as many times as I'm right, but, I feel like I should get a gold star for trying, right?

Which brings me to my next point; why doesn't EVERYONE try?  Why is it that it's so easy for some people to pass judgement on others and not even be able to admit that there's a snowballs chance in hell that their, GASP, wrong?  I'm talking about people who are so damn sure that they're right that, even with truth on your side, there's no way you can convince them otherwise.  Scary!  Sad, really.  I wouldn't want to walk around being so set in my own ideas and prejudices that when the truth hit me square in the face, I missed it.  Would you?  Do you?  Truly think about it.  Do you?  Do you miss it, folks?  If so, why?  Is it fear?  Is it pride?  What makes it so impossible for you to realize, and furthermore, admit that you were wrong?

I'm wrong.  A lot.  Everyday.  So are you.  Sit with that for a moment.  Feel it.  Realize how it makes you feel to be wrong.  What's it taste like?  What's it do to your body?  There.  That's it.  That's the worst thing that can happen to you by being wrong.  Period.  Now, on the contrary, what's the best thing that can happen to you?  People could see you as honest and humble.  Folks could know that they can come to you with something and that you'll be open to it.  Your friends will know you to be the person who can be wrong with grace and dignity.  Your spouse won't be afraid to confront you with an issue that's been bothering them for years.  Your children will learn what it means to have integrity, grace, strength, an open heart and mind and what it means to be a complete adult.  Beautiful.  All simply from admitting that you're wrong.  Not to mention the wonder and awe you'll feel when you realize that those people who you THOUGHT didn't like you or were "evil", really were just afraid or insecure or even shy.  Endearing.

Kindness.  Now here's a delicate issue that's close to my heart.  I try to be kind.....all the time.  Without fail.  Challenging, yes, but not impossible.  I've been married for a long time.  Well a long time in dog years, at least.  I've been married for 14 years, come this July.  I'm kind to my husband, every single day.  No lie, people.  Everyday.  Still.  I'm kind to my friends.  I'm kind to my children.  I'm kind to strangers.  I'm kind to myself.  Shocking.  The last one took me the longest to master.  Okay, that's a lie, I'm still a "work in progress".  But, I am making progress.  Yet, when I started being kind to myself I met the most obstacles, the most resistance.  I found that people loved my kindness.  Towards them.  That they depended on it.  To MY detriment, at times.  You see, they had me all figured out, didn't they?  They knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what my reactions would be to their behavior.  Kindness.  They knew that I wouldn't call them out or say mean things to them.  They knew that I was going to react, kindly.  They were right.  Until.  Until one day, I decided that I mattered, too.  That I was a person, too and if my "motto" in life, for lack of a better term was, "Be unfailingly kind", then didn't I owe myself that same kindness?  Life altering.  The short answer, from the people in my life was, a resounding "NO!"

I found that some people in my life have viewed my kindness as a weakness.  They WERE right.  Now, however, I've been able to flip it around and have it be my strength.  Make no mistake, I'm still "nice".  I'm still tender hearted.  I just allow myself the same grace.  This has caused unending friction in my life. I was, and still am confounded by that.

It's come to my attention recently, that there are people out there who see me as "angry" all the time.  Now, looking back over my postings, I suppose that I can see why.  People have judged them as anger filled and possibly even mean.  Wrong.  This is my way of purging.  Not really venting, no.  That word is overused and misunderstood.  This is truly a purging.  I'm releasing it to the world.  You should try it.  It's amazing!  You see, I've encased myself in other people's crap for so long that I truly have to "get it out".  Get rid of it.  Put it back into the universe.  In that, people are misunderstanding my intent.  It's to free myself of the ugliness.  I'm finding my own voice.  I'm drawing my inner strength up and allowing myself to speak up and possibly, to even be heard!  So, is this strength or vengeance?   Is it empowering myself by means of tearing others down?  Not.  At.  All.

What I really want you to "get" from this is that people can be strong and not mean.  Shocking.  I might even be more shocked by that than you are.  That "kind" people aren't weak people.  New idea?  That what people "seem" to be, on the outside, is probably not how they're feeling on the inside, even a little bit and mostly, that it takes more strength to be true to yourself than anyone knows.  Even you.

So, I'm not going to be discouraged.  I refuse to let what people "think of me" rule my life anymore.  I'm kind whether you see it or not.  I'm telling the truth whether you believe me or not.  I'm truly happy now, whether you've noticed or not.   I'm stronger now whether you feel it or not.  I have truth on my side.  In the end, that's all any of us can confidently rely on.

Take a deep breath...........it's just another day in Perfect!!!

Don't Retreat, Reload? How About ReThink........

So, I'm mad.  Really, really mad.  I'm mad about all these innocent people who've, yet again, been gunned down by some crazy ass dude.  I'm mad because he could run out and get a gun, lickety split, no problem, because he had no "problems with the law or documented mental health issues".  Wow.  How'd that work out, America?

I know, I know.  Right away people are going to start throwing words around like "freedom" and "right to bear arms" and all that bull shit.  Tell that to the man who's baby girl was just gunned down in cold blood, because she was interested in seeing our political process in action.  What?  Too harsh?  Too real for you?  What if it was YOUR daughter, mother, sister, auntie, hell, even your next door neighbor that was so casually shot to death?  Would you really care all the much about the gunman's "right to bear arms"?  I doubt it.  See, America is very good at pretending that we're all politically correct and that we believe all this bullshit about how we're free.  In the end, though, you and I both know the truth.  Freedom is an illusion and thank God that it is.

I'm not free to run down the street naked.  I'm not free to drink as much as I want and then get behind the wheel of a car.  I'm not free to hop onto a plane with a bomb in my purse.  I'm not free to walk into a store and grab whatever I want and walk out.  What?  All of those things are illegal?  Well, isn't that a "violation of my right to be free"?  No, you say?  Why?  How come?  When did we, as a people make that decision? Did we just wake up one day and know right from wrong?  Does everyone wake up everyday and know right from wrong?  Do we need guidelines to keep us in check?  Or is it an ever changing climate of "right and wrong"?

My sister is a lesbian.  She pays taxes.  She follows our made up rules.  She goes to church.  She believes in God.  She's loving and open and caring and lives with a wonderful woman whom she can't legally call her wife.  Why?  Oh, well....because someone, somewhere decided that "marriage" can only be between people of opposite sexes.  Yeah, we see how well THAT'S working out.  We have over a 50% divorce rate in America.  I suppose that letting gay people get married might screw up our "perfect" record, huh?  I digress.  You see, we've decided who can and can't marry each other; we've decided who can and can't adopt children; we've decided who can and can't run for political offices in our country and I suppose that we've "decided" whom can and can't buy a gun.  Funny thing is.....we're wrong.  We're wrong about most of it.

Having been a victim of gun violence myself, I can tell you this, being "free" to buy a gun doesn't mean that you have the mental stability to use that gun safely.  It's amazing to me how easy it is to get a gun in America.  How easy it is to sneak across our borders.  How easy it is to get lethal drugs.  How easy it is to walk up and blow someone's head off.  Yet, how hard it is to get good medical care.  How difficult it is for my sister to live peacefully with her WIFE!  How many people are struggling right now because we can't afford to keep our houses.  Yet we still pay for a war that most people have become so desensitized to they scarcely remember how many good people we've lost or the amount of money we've used to "win" it.  Few of us ever KNEW any of that to begin with.  But, I know what Sarah Palin's kids look like, don't I?

We all sit back in our little "boxes" and hide away what we really feel.  Most of us are too afraid to express much of an opinion one way or the other.  We don't want to be seen as too much to left or right, too liberal or too conservative.  In that process, I fear that we've lost our way.  We've forgotten what it means to have an opinion.  We can't seem to figure out how to even voice our feelings.  Are they African Americans or Afro-Americans, today?   Are they Latinos or Spanish Americans this week?  Are you a lesbian or a female gay?  I mean, I beg of you......where did we go wrong?  When did we decide, as a people, that what you're "called" became more important that who you are and what you do?  When did your title become more important than your integrity?  When did we give each other permission to act badly because someone called you a name that you didn't like or "suppressed YOUR religious freedom" by expressing their own?   Doesn't this sound like kindergarten playground drama to you?   We're all content to sit back and pretend that we don't have preconceived notions about each other based on the color of our skin, how we dress, how we talk, how we smell, what kind of car we drive, where we live, how educated we are and how we walk and carry ourselves.  I call bullshit.

Gang bangers dress a certain way on purpose.  They want others to be afraid of them.  Yet, when I see someone dressed like that and cross the street or grab my baby girls hand or lock my van door, I'm a racist, right?   Huh?  When you see a white person dressed in ripped clothes, with bad teeth, talking with a deep southern accent, you think "red neck" or "hill billy"  right?  You make a joke to your friend about how if he and his wife got divorced they'd still be brother and sister.   No harm, no foul, right?   You're not a racist, you're just being funny.  Hm?  Why does it work that way?

People can't have nativity scenes in front of a school, because "we have to separate church and state".  Yet, we have to allow certain religions the right to pray, in school, several times a day.  While at the same time, that same school stopped saying the pledge of allegiance because it mentions "God".  What?  Can you see how back-ass-ward, all of this is?  Of course you can.  But.  You won't say anything.  Out loud.  Outside of your "box".  Oh, you'll bitch and complain to your spouse, your kids, maybe even a close friend, but, even at that, somewhere inside, you're afraid of offending.  Afraid of being seen as biased or racist or prejudiced.   That word is thrown around so much, we've forgotten what it really means; to judge someone or something BEFORE knowing all the facts.  So, why is it that even after I have ALL THE FACTS, I'm still not allowed to believe what I know to be true?  It's simple.  Fear.  We're afraid of each other.  Hell, we're afraid of ourselves.  We're afraid to use our senses anymore, because then, we'll be labeled, too.  Wow.  How far we've removed ourselves from our humanity!

I'm a human.  I have eyes.  Our eyes are on the front of our faces because they're important.  Ask any anthropologist.  Why are they so important?  They're important because we're meant to use them to assess danger in our environment, to see what's coming, to find a mate, basically to live life to its fullest.

I have ears, too.  I hear what people say to and about each other.  I also hear what they want to say and can't.  What we only say to each other inside our "boxes".  Now, Sarah Palin is out there.  She's extreme, I'll grant you that.  I like her.  I like her as much as an total stranger can like someone by seeing them on TV.  I can see her "good intentions".  I chose to see them.  Now, I'm a mom, too and I know how crazy that can make a person.  I know how I say things that don't quite come out right.  A lot.  I feel badly for her when she says things like "Don't retreat.  Reload."  When she said it, I knew what she meant.  I still know what she meant.  But.  It made me cringe.  Of course, she couldn't have known that some nutter was going to go off the rails and gun down a parking lot full of people.  But, it begs the question.....when it enough, enough?  When are we, as a people, going to decide that the media is ruling our lives?  When will we take back our own opinions?  When will we really "live and let live"?  When will we see that our imagined freedom is coming at too great a cost?  When will compassion and reason, win out over greed and power?   When will common sense and common decency prevail?  When will all stop pretending and start standing up for what's real and true in this world?  When we will stop living our lives by a piece of paper that was written two hundred years ago?  We don't live any other aspect of our lives the same way that we did in the 1700's, why do we think that our government should?

As a whole, America controls what we watch, what we eat, what drugs we're allowed to take, when and where we're allowed to see the human form naked, how old you are when you're finally responsible enough to drink alcohol, drive, get married and die for your country, (not necessarily in that order).  We suppress certain language, drugs, booze, sex and fire arms.  We also have the highest alcoholic and drug addict rates in the world.  We drink and drive more.  We rape our women and children more.  We get hopped up on drugs and do drive by's more.  Our children can't spell ANYTHING, but, can shorten a paragraph into BRB POS TXTUL8R.  Hm?  How's THAT working out for ya America?

Maya Angelou has said, and I love it, "When you know better, you do better."  Clearly, that isn't the case with America.  We're too busy not retreating, but reloading.  How's that working out for ya America?

Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!!!!

Sturdy Girls Need Love, Too

I've just come from the doctors office.  Nothing huge, just a check in with the doctor.  Time to adjust some medication and all that jazz.  No, nothing important at all, yet.......they insist on weighing me.  Right after the holidays?  I believe that to be illegal in this, and four other states.  It's not?  Well.  It should be.  I mean, seriously should be.  Now, I'm not petite in any sense of the word.  I was 5'9" when I was 12 years old.  Yes, you read that right.  I was TWELVE!  My daughter is 12 and I'm happy to say that she's still quite a bit shorter than I am.  Bless her.

I've always wanted to be 5'2".  Doesn't that just sound like the perfect height for a woman?  Indeed.  Women should be small.  Petite.  Demure.  Easily protected by their bigger, stronger counterparts; namely- men.  I've always liked the way it looked when a man dances with or hugs a cute, little woman.  She looks so small and helpless in his arms.  I L.O.V.E. that.  I've never had that.  No, not me.  I'm always nearly as tall as the man I'm with. Or, worse yet....taller.  No, I've never known what it feels like to get "lost in a mans arms".  I've never been picked up and thrown over a mans shoulder whilst he carries me through a doorway or onto a boat or someplace else, both exotic and romantic.  Never.  I long for these experiences.  As maybe some of you do, too.

Now, I know that this makes me sound super old fashioned and not very much the feminist.  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  Is it possible that I can be both modern and romantic, feminine and feminist all rolled up into one?  Can I possibly be a woman who knows that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, but would really enjoy not having to?  Surely.

Not that height necessarily warrants these issues of inner turmoil, alas that's my main issue: the LBS.  I hate my weight.  I've hated my weight since I can remember.  I've had issues with food, since I can remember.  My mother used to say, possibly still does say, "You can never be too rich or too THIN."  I've been hearing this since I was a baby.  Mind you, I was a thin child.  Average, we call it.  Boy, if there was ever a time I think that the word should be something more like "SUPREME" or "EXCELLENT'", it's when it comes to weight.  Saying that someone is "average" weight is crap.  Truth be told the "average" weight for any America is "over"weight.  But, you know what I mean when I say I was "average" weight as a child.  I was even thin as a teen ager.  I was pretty hot when I met my husband, although I never thought so at the time.  Funny how that backwards glance at oneself, is truly the clearest view possible, isn't it?  At any rate, I really didn't start to pack on the pounds until I got pregnant.  Ah, yes---baby weight.

My children are nearly 13 and 9 1/2, respectively.  Hm?  Maybe, calling it "baby" weight still isn't fair.  But, to be fair, I do work out.   Hard.  I do eat right.  Okay, well....most of the time, I do.  The holidays are just a horrible time to be super strict on diet.  Regardless, I am a water drinker, not a soda swigger.  I hate mayonnaise and salad dressing.  I don't eat cheese on my sandwiches.  I rarely eat fast food.  You get the picture.  Anyway, even with all that, diet pills and anything else you can think of....I'm still, shall we say, "plump"?  No?  Okay, I'm fat.  Really, really, fat.  Sturdy, they call us.  Thick.  Husky.  Robust.

The size man I would need to "get lost in his arms" or to be "whisked away over a threshold", is staggering.  I'm talking Olympic weight lifter big.  You know the type.  The man who's thighs are as big around as his waist is.  Unfortunately,  all those guys are with girls who weight about 85 lbs, dripping wet.   It's really unfair.  There should be some mandate that certain size people need to stick together.  Why do all those tiny bitches get all the big, strong guys?  Why is it always the 4'10" girl who dates the 6'5" guy?  I mean, come on!  Throw me a bone, people.  Seriously.

Then, of course, it doesn't help that my parents moved me from a state with normal sized people, Texas, to the "thinnest" state in the country, Colorado.  I mean, what were they thinking?  People in Colorado jog.  All the time.  Like in a damn blizzard, you'll still see dumb ass people out running.  Give me a break.  Why oh why, can't I move back to Texas where gravy is a beverage and people know better than to run anywhere because you'll give yourself a heart attack in the heat?  Cheese and rice, people.  It's just common sense!  No.  I'm stuck here.  In "God's Country".  With all these crazy health nuts.  Of course, one would think that it should have rubbed off on me by now.  Yeah.  No.  It hasn't.  I still see the outdoors as a punishment.   You want to hurt me.  Send me outside.  I see it as a necessary evil of course.  Where else would they put a mall?  I mean, you need that open space, right?

I digress.  My point really is this, 1) even though I'm a cow, I'm still a good, kind person.  2) no one should ever weigh you between November 1st and March 2nd (that's between Halloween and my birthday)  3) y'all short, skinny chicks need to lay off the big, hunky guys; save them for us "sturdy" girls.  Maybe....just maybe, one day, my body with decide to cooperate and I'll loose enough weight that my wonderfully strong husband could at least lift me through a doorway or something, without giving himself another hernia.  No.  The first one was NOT because he lifted me anywhere, at any time.

To all you skinny "Pefect" bitches----eat a cookie, already.

Take a deep breath................it's just another day in "Perfect"!!!!!!

Perspective for 2011?

I woke up this morning.  It's true.  I did.  As did you.  I woke up this fine morning and cleaned my house, put away some laundry and pretty much wanted to gripe and complain about it all and then it hit me. (Face pop.....)  I have it all.  I mean ----  ALL!!!

I have a wonderfully annoying husband.  He does things like snore, speak in incomplete sentences that no sane person can decipher, eats too much, cusses to much, looks at other women, loves boobs in general, watches horrible movies with no plot, prays that he'll see a "spontaneous boob shot" on every TV show or commercial in which a woman is a) wearing a bra, b) bending over or c) in the shot, he drives badly, and pretty much frustrates the hell out of me by leaving his shit all over my house!  He also pays for "my" house by working his ass off.  He loves me even though I'm too fat.  He didn't leave me when I got really sick and no one could figure out what the hell the cause was.  He stood of up for me with his family, even though it cost him greatly.  He stood back and let me fall on my face with a friend who wasn't good for me, until he couldn't take it anymore and finally told me to "kick her to the curb".  (Good advice, by the way!)  He doesn't judge me when I cry at commercials,  movies, songs or anything else that might "strike a nerve".  He loves the stupid voices that I use when I'm happy.  They make him happy, too!  He keeps my secrets when no one else can.  He sets the dumb ass alarm on his phone to "remind himself" to check in with me, every day.  Every stinkin' day.  At 8:15pm.  Every single day.  He loves it when I cook "something new" and he was thrilled when I made lasagna for Christmas dinner in lieu of the traditional holiday feast.  He lets me grieve when I need to grieve.  He doesn't even mind that I sing too loudly in the car or that I dance to much to Prince.  He lets me dance, if I need to dance.  His dancing is horrible, but endearing.  I'm one of the few people that he'd dance in front of.  I'm honored.  He stood back and let me heal when I was so wounded, I wasn't sure our marriage could survive.  I think I'll keep him!

I also have a beautiful daughter who'll be turning the dreaded thirteen in a few short weeks.  GASP!  Yes.  I have a teenage daughter.  Pray for me.  She rolls her eyes at me.  She talks back to me.  Her room is a pit, most days.  She cries over nothing and yells over everything!  She hates her sister with a passion I've rarely experienced, in all my days on this Earth.  She loves to leave little pieces of paper all over the house.  These papers are covered with doodles, and drawings and short sentences that make no sense.  (She gets this from her father, clearly.)  She knows more than I do.  Just ask her.  She's hateful and mean most days.  She can't wait to get the hell out of the house, the minute she gets home from school.  She pretty much hates her life.  I always say "There's telephone, telegraph and then there's tell my daughter."  She knows EVERYTHING that goes on in Perfect.  I mean everything!   She's also the most genuine person I've ever met.  She doesn't judge people.  Ever.  I mean it, y'all.  She'll be friends with ANYONE!  She didn't care when they wore glasses in kindergarten and the other kids laughed at them.  She was their friend.  She's friends with the shy girl who no one understands and must clearly have "cooties".  She's even friends with kids from other schools, or hold on people, other STATES!  Shocking!  My daughter stands up for that same baby sister that she hates so much to the bitter end!  Don't mess with her sister, folks!  This same little girl, notices when my voice doesn't sound quite right and she knows that something is wrong, the second she gets home from school.  My little girl sees the world with wonder and amazement.  She knows that she can be anything that she puts her mind to.  She's confident to a fault, but not cocky.  Just a beautiful shade of "confident".  It shines in her like a light through the darkness that is low self esteem.  She's smart.  Too smart for her own good most days.  Alas, I'm grateful to be blessed with a child that learns things so quickly.  She's moving into a new phase of her life and that phase doesn't require my attention every second of the day.  As much as I know that this is the way that it has to be, it still hurts me.  It still scares me.  I'm terrfied that the world might take away some of these wonderful things, that are so truly, deeply her.  My little girl, is a young woman.

I'm also the mother of another little girl.  Now, this one is quite different than the first.  More like me in many ways.  More quiet and reserved than her elder sister.  So much so, that I have to bend down to have her tell me things when we're out in public.  So much so, that she won't order a coke from the waitress.  I mean, seriously----SPEAK UP!!!  She's sneaky.  She thinks that I don't know that she knocks the crap out of her sister when I'm not around.  She plays people like a violin.  She looks quite sweet and innocent.  It's a cover.   She's forgetful.  I mean REALLY forgetful.  I can tell her to be sure to take her plate the dishwasher and not 45 seconds later, she's running upstairs with that damn plate left right there where it was.  She hates to read.  Hates to do her homework.  Hates to do any work, really.  Girl is lazy. L-A-Z-Y!  She'd love to go to bed at about midnight each night, sleep until nearly noon and then stroll downstairs to eat her breakfast for forty five minutes and then play some WII.  You can imagine school day mornings are no picnic around my house.  You'd be wrong.....they're even worse than that!  But, then there's the deep kindness to her, that everyone can see.  She's a gentle soul with good intentions towards every one and every thing.  Butterflies and lady bugs just float her way, land on her and just sit there to enjoy the day.  She can sit there and watch their wings flap and their antennae sway and never speak a word.   Perfect peace on her face.  She sees the value in everything.  The value that most of us have forgotten about.  She sees the weak and weary as beautiful.  She sees the poor and hopeless as rich in spirit and potential.  My little girl honestly sees the world as a genuinely good place.  She quick with a smile and slow to criticize.  Her favorite thing to say is "Well, at least _____ didn't happen! That's good, right?"  She sees that glass as half full---all the time!  She's unintentionally funny.  She's made me laugh so hard, my sides hurt.  I can't wait to see what she'll use these gifts she's been given for, in her life.

I have a home.  A really, really nice home.  It's big and fully furnished with tons of crapola.   Every space filled with something I love.  It's overfilled really.  Another way in which I'm blessed.  We give stuff away all the time, because, well, we have TOO much!  I'm lucky to have so many clothes to wash.  I'm blessed to have so much food in my pantry that some of it won't fit!  The "dilemma" of which of those delicious things I'm going to have for dinner is never a thought for a homeless person.  They'd be happy with anything I have.  They'd be okay with doing "all that laundry" because it would mean that they had clean clothes to wear and some plate in which to was them.  The idea of wishing that my husband would "go to work already" and get the hell out of my hair, never occurs to the woman who's never been married though she desperately wants to be.  She'd gladly take my annoying husband!  Being irritated to death by my children, is only a dream to the infertile couple, praying for a pregnancy to "take root".  Wondering when my husband will get home from "working himself to death" would be welcomed by the wife whose husband has been out of work for over a year.  I'm ashamed of myself, really.

I guess, it's all a matter of perspective.  Even here in Perfect.  I guess, I just wanted you to know that.  Because......today.....I woke up.

Take a deep breath...........it's just another day in Perfect!!!!!