I didn't know whether to do my font in red today, or blue. I chose blue. The sadness overtakes the anger by far.
I have said in earlier blogs that when we were growing up, we weren't allowed to have pets. I think that may have been a HUGE mistake. I don't even know who to blame. I can't blame anyone. I guess I could blame my parents.....but then again, they let us have animals until we moved into the jail house. It was the county supervisors that wouldn't allow pets. Or so I was always told. And that's understandable too. I mean, wasn't it enough they moved a family with six kids (who were at times, animals) into their precious jail house?
Fine. I guess I won't blame anyone. But having animals as a child could have prepared me for things a little differently in my adult life. You know from my blog about my puppy, Bear and how it tore me up when he was run over. I still have a hard time thinking about him and how he was taken from us too early. I visit his grave often and tell him how sorry I am that I didn't protect him better than that and that I hope he's in Heaven waiting for me to join him some day.
Last night, I got home from work about 0120 in the morning. The very first thing I did was open up the kennel and let the dogs out. Momma had been in there with the two pups since I left shortly before 1700. She immediately went to get a drink and I reached in to get the pups. The male was crying. I assumed it was because his momma had just ran out without him. I noticed the female had her head in the food dish. That is kinda strange since she doesn't have any teeth. She must be stuck.
"What are you doing in there freckles?" And I picked her up, only to realize that she was dead. She had been sat on and suffocated. Her brother was wailing and trying to get to me because I had his sister. I laid her down...I was in shock. For a few minutes, I truly didn't know what to do. I got the male out and he kept nudging his sister. I know he was trying to wake her up. I imagine that he listened to her cry for help until she couldn't cry anymore.
The momma didn't want anything to do with her. I brought her over to the pups and she pushed them out of the way so she could get under my hand (to pet her). I was sad and I was furious. But I was more sad. This is the second pup that she has killed. I knew in my heart that I could not trust her with the last pup and took her outside and tied her to her lead and let her sleep in her doghouse one last time.
I left a message with Gee to come up to the house in the morning so he could bury her. He was out camping with friends and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to do that. I wrapped "Freckles" up in a small towel and laid her on my enclosed porch since the floor is concrete and would be cool for the night. All I could do was stare at her fragile, resting body. And her brother wouldn't stop crying.
Finally I just let the flood gates open and I sobbed for this poor defenseless puppy that died at the hands of her mother. I sobbed because I had to find a way to comfort this poor little guy that doens't understand why his sister and momma aren't there anymore. And I sobbed because I wanted my Bear back. I laid down with the male puppy and just let myself cry. When I would cry, he would get up by my face and try to lick my tears. When I stopped crying, he would wail again.
What a night. It took me forever to go to sleep and then when I did, I kept waking up to make sure I wasn't suffocating that little guy. He wanted to sleep up by my hair the whole night. No thank you. I made him sleep a little ways away from me but close enough that my hand was beside him the whole night. So I knew when he moved.
This morning, I brought the momma in and let her feed her son one last time. I petted her and told her how much I loved having her with me and that she was going to go to a place where she would never have to be tied to a lead; would never be hungry or thirsty; and would always have someone there to pet her. I have sobbed so much in the past eighteen hours, my head will not stop hurting. I feel like it's going to burst.
I'm surprised I am dry-eyed typing this because my heart hurts so bad. I think I'm numb already. Anyway, Gee came home and buried Freckles and took momma to be put down. I'm sure there are going to be people that think we're Class A assholes but I can't have a dog that is going to kill other dogs. I won't have it. She has been shown nothing but love and because of that, she didn't want her own pups to have it. Jealousy isn't only in people.
Momma is buried out at the family farm where we will always have her with us. She can run with her pups now and not have to be jealous of them anymore. I wish I could make my heart stop this feeling. I wish I didn't care so much. I wish I could just move on. I think that if I had been able to have a pet growing up, I wouldn't hurt so much. But then again, I probably would. I know that there won't be any new dogs from now on. When they're gone, they're gone and if I can get rid of the ones I have now, my heart will be fine.
Hug your family pet or pets. Tell them you love them. Give them a treat.
2012/06/30
2012/06/27
A crappy blog
And I'm back. I just can't get enough of you today!! *blush*
I had such a "peach" of a day today that I just thought I should share it (no, not pie this time). I know you're on the edge of your seat. Ready? You sure? Ok.....
Wait..... did you go potty? If so, there's just ONE more thing I might suggest you do. You might wanna march right back in there, stick a toothbrush down your throat and get rid of whatever it was you ate in the last couple of hours.
For a couple of reasons. First one being that this could gag you. It gagged me. Second one is that between your gas and your breath, I don't know which way to turn you! Rude!
So today was laundry day for the dirty old man. It's hot out. We went through this last year. I believe I told you about him running through the house all the while shitting down his leg??? Ring a bell?
Keep in mind that this man is a little "special." He truly needs to be in a facility but until his family gets their heads out of their asses and deals with "being the bad guy," he will continue to live in a world he doesn't completely understand and can't cope in. He has the heart of a teddy bear though. Until you piss him off. Then he turns into the Incredible Grizzly. For real, people. And today I wasn't sure which one I was going to be dealing with.
I walk into his apartment and there he is, as always, sitting in his recliner, just waiting for me to come wash his clothes. He has the laundry in the basket beside the door.
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the smell. Not the smell of cooked fish, no. Not the smell of fourteen day old smelly socks, no. Not even the smell of sour garbage. No. What I smelled turned my nose inside out and it even did a couple of flips. It was so confused, it didn't know which way was right. It couldn't get away from the smell. P-YOU-TRID!!! And as much as I'm trying to get away from using this word so much.....FUCK IT WAS GROSS!! (The word in question there is the word gross, sorry)
Body odor. Big man body odor. Big man body odor that has been sweating for several days without a shower. I went in and immediately filled the water jugs. No, not to pour over him. To water the miniature roses outside. While watering the flowers, I was making my speech to him in my head.
I'm going to call this man Dom. Short for dirty old man. And faster to type. So I go back inside and sit down across from him and say it just like this, "Dom, I need to talk to you about something and I don't want you to get mad at me, ok?" I think I started that off innocently enough, don't you? I mean, would YOU get your guard up if someone said that to you? Of course you would. You would know that something is coming next that is going to offend you.
<insert break here to listen to "Porn Star Dancing" song and mourn my true calling in life.>
Anyway, Dom isn't like that. He told me to just lay it out for him. "Well Dom, when I came in here, the first thing I noticed that was different than any other time since you have lived here is the smell. It is terrible." He says, "Does it smell like shit?" His eyes were as big as the moon. It literally took everything in me to not laugh. Now, the smile I couldn't hide. "No, it smells like really bad body odor." He leans back in his chair "Oh."
I proceeded to tell him that I can tell his isn't showering and that his body odor is not only offensive to the people that are around him...whether he is in the hundred dollar store or in the grocery....but it's offensive to his own body. I told him he is going to break out into rashes and it will break his skin down and he will start to get sores.....yada yada yada (aren't you glad you bathed this week?).
<really wondering why I didn't become a stripper....I mean dancer!!! love the songs on my mp3 player>
He told me that he isn't sure WHEN he should take a shower and that he HAS been taking hot showers at night right before bed but that they are making his bowels bust in the night. :-| Sure Dom.
I wrote down on a piece of paper for him to see everyday, what times he should shower every day (twice) and what times he should wash the armpits, under the belly and between his legs (front and back times 3). He told me he has been using deodorant but I couldn't find any of it in the whole place. I started him a list of things to get on his next trip out. Deodorant was at the very top. Told him he has to use it twice a day as well.
Yes, I'm hard to live with. Anyway, I know he hasn't been showering because not a single towel had been moved since I was there two weeks ago. *sigh*
So I get the laundry started and proceed to the bathroom to clean. Oh my God!!! I walked out and then walked back in. I wasn't sure I had seen it right the first time. From the top of the toilet lid to the base of the toilet to the baseboards under his sink..........SHIT. NO WONDER he asked if it smelled like shit in there!!!
And apparently he DID get in the shower enough to clean himself off because there was shit in there as well!! I can't make this stuff up people! It truly happened. I got the Clorox clean-up out and just soaked everything that I thought he touched.....with his nasty shitty ass or his probably dirty fingers. I even doused the hand soap down. Yes, I did.
I wonder what he dried off with? Oh well, that's the least of my concerns at this point. I told him to not go in there and I was going to the store and would be right back. I headed off to the good ole Dollar General and purchased a new mop, Mr. Clean, more Clorox Clean-up, carpet fresh, a scrubber, and air freshener for the bathroom. And disposable gloves. Don't forget the gloves.
The only thing I forgot was a face mask. I hate it when I have to clean someone's shit up and they hear me gagging. It's kinda embarrassing. I know it shouldn't be but it is. I wasn't leaving until this place was CLEAN and smelling like someone gave a shit.....poor choice of words there because obviously someone DID give a shit. *sigh* I had had enough of this shit.
Got back and put the laundry in the dryer and got to it. I think the smell of all the chemicals finally got to him because he finally left me alone and went to visit his mom. I scrubbed his apartment from top to bottom. You should have seen me. Spray, wipe, gag, spray, wipe, gag, rinse and repeat. I couldn't puke. Where the hell would I have put it?? I wasn't about to stick my head in his shit bowl with shit on it!
<can you believe I'm eating pizza while typing this?>
I cleaned fans. I organized his closet. I even re-folded the clothes in his dresser. I even left him a very strict note to call me at the HINT of a bowel movement from now on! What a shitty day at the office, huh??!!?? I'll let you know how it goes.
Until then...wipe your asses really good after every bowel movement, keep your "unders" clean. And I don't mean underpants. I mean under your boobs, under your belly and under your balls, if you need to. Was that blunt enough for you? Oh yeah...and use deodorant. As many times a day as you need to.
And don't call me when you have a bowel movement. Please.
I had such a "peach" of a day today that I just thought I should share it (no, not pie this time). I know you're on the edge of your seat. Ready? You sure? Ok.....
Wait..... did you go potty? If so, there's just ONE more thing I might suggest you do. You might wanna march right back in there, stick a toothbrush down your throat and get rid of whatever it was you ate in the last couple of hours.
For a couple of reasons. First one being that this could gag you. It gagged me. Second one is that between your gas and your breath, I don't know which way to turn you! Rude!
So today was laundry day for the dirty old man. It's hot out. We went through this last year. I believe I told you about him running through the house all the while shitting down his leg??? Ring a bell?
Keep in mind that this man is a little "special." He truly needs to be in a facility but until his family gets their heads out of their asses and deals with "being the bad guy," he will continue to live in a world he doesn't completely understand and can't cope in. He has the heart of a teddy bear though. Until you piss him off. Then he turns into the Incredible Grizzly. For real, people. And today I wasn't sure which one I was going to be dealing with.
I walk into his apartment and there he is, as always, sitting in his recliner, just waiting for me to come wash his clothes. He has the laundry in the basket beside the door.
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the smell. Not the smell of cooked fish, no. Not the smell of fourteen day old smelly socks, no. Not even the smell of sour garbage. No. What I smelled turned my nose inside out and it even did a couple of flips. It was so confused, it didn't know which way was right. It couldn't get away from the smell. P-YOU-TRID!!! And as much as I'm trying to get away from using this word so much.....FUCK IT WAS GROSS!! (The word in question there is the word gross, sorry)
Body odor. Big man body odor. Big man body odor that has been sweating for several days without a shower. I went in and immediately filled the water jugs. No, not to pour over him. To water the miniature roses outside. While watering the flowers, I was making my speech to him in my head.
I'm going to call this man Dom. Short for dirty old man. And faster to type. So I go back inside and sit down across from him and say it just like this, "Dom, I need to talk to you about something and I don't want you to get mad at me, ok?" I think I started that off innocently enough, don't you? I mean, would YOU get your guard up if someone said that to you? Of course you would. You would know that something is coming next that is going to offend you.
<insert break here to listen to "Porn Star Dancing" song and mourn my true calling in life.>
Anyway, Dom isn't like that. He told me to just lay it out for him. "Well Dom, when I came in here, the first thing I noticed that was different than any other time since you have lived here is the smell. It is terrible." He says, "Does it smell like shit?" His eyes were as big as the moon. It literally took everything in me to not laugh. Now, the smile I couldn't hide. "No, it smells like really bad body odor." He leans back in his chair "Oh."
I proceeded to tell him that I can tell his isn't showering and that his body odor is not only offensive to the people that are around him...whether he is in the hundred dollar store or in the grocery....but it's offensive to his own body. I told him he is going to break out into rashes and it will break his skin down and he will start to get sores.....yada yada yada (aren't you glad you bathed this week?).
<really wondering why I didn't become a stripper....I mean dancer!!! love the songs on my mp3 player>
He told me that he isn't sure WHEN he should take a shower and that he HAS been taking hot showers at night right before bed but that they are making his bowels bust in the night. :-| Sure Dom.
I wrote down on a piece of paper for him to see everyday, what times he should shower every day (twice) and what times he should wash the armpits, under the belly and between his legs (front and back times 3). He told me he has been using deodorant but I couldn't find any of it in the whole place. I started him a list of things to get on his next trip out. Deodorant was at the very top. Told him he has to use it twice a day as well.
Yes, I'm hard to live with. Anyway, I know he hasn't been showering because not a single towel had been moved since I was there two weeks ago. *sigh*
So I get the laundry started and proceed to the bathroom to clean. Oh my God!!! I walked out and then walked back in. I wasn't sure I had seen it right the first time. From the top of the toilet lid to the base of the toilet to the baseboards under his sink..........SHIT. NO WONDER he asked if it smelled like shit in there!!!
And apparently he DID get in the shower enough to clean himself off because there was shit in there as well!! I can't make this stuff up people! It truly happened. I got the Clorox clean-up out and just soaked everything that I thought he touched.....with his nasty shitty ass or his probably dirty fingers. I even doused the hand soap down. Yes, I did.
I wonder what he dried off with? Oh well, that's the least of my concerns at this point. I told him to not go in there and I was going to the store and would be right back. I headed off to the good ole Dollar General and purchased a new mop, Mr. Clean, more Clorox Clean-up, carpet fresh, a scrubber, and air freshener for the bathroom. And disposable gloves. Don't forget the gloves.
The only thing I forgot was a face mask. I hate it when I have to clean someone's shit up and they hear me gagging. It's kinda embarrassing. I know it shouldn't be but it is. I wasn't leaving until this place was CLEAN and smelling like someone gave a shit.....poor choice of words there because obviously someone DID give a shit. *sigh* I had had enough of this shit.
Got back and put the laundry in the dryer and got to it. I think the smell of all the chemicals finally got to him because he finally left me alone and went to visit his mom. I scrubbed his apartment from top to bottom. You should have seen me. Spray, wipe, gag, spray, wipe, gag, rinse and repeat. I couldn't puke. Where the hell would I have put it?? I wasn't about to stick my head in his shit bowl with shit on it!
<can you believe I'm eating pizza while typing this?>
I cleaned fans. I organized his closet. I even re-folded the clothes in his dresser. I even left him a very strict note to call me at the HINT of a bowel movement from now on! What a shitty day at the office, huh??!!?? I'll let you know how it goes.
Until then...wipe your asses really good after every bowel movement, keep your "unders" clean. And I don't mean underpants. I mean under your boobs, under your belly and under your balls, if you need to. Was that blunt enough for you? Oh yeah...and use deodorant. As many times a day as you need to.
And don't call me when you have a bowel movement. Please.
For the love of french fries
I'm back. And boy are you lucky!! It was an utter and complete amazement to myself that I was able to make it to the chair this morning. My muscles are screaming at me and my mind and body are thrilled with me!
Yesterday at work, Vivian and I got this brilliant idea to prop open the doors in the jail area (we are empty currently) and put our area to good use. I started out walking laps around, counting each and every step carefully, as Vivian did her stretches and upper body exercises while catching the radios and phones. And then we'd switch.
We each got a set of laps in...well Vivian was actually still finishing up...when the Sheriff came back to get some coffee. Pretty sure he thought we had flipped our lids. He sees all the doors open to the jail area and says "Where's the jail administrator? There's been a jail break!!!" Like I said, we are currently an empty jail so we are hurting nothing by utilizing the space. And all bases are covered.
So after we visit with the good Sheriff a while and he decides he doesn't want to be a part of this and leaves, I go out and do another set of laps and then so does Vivian. We were able to get some pretty good speed built up going around that horseshoe. It was awesome.
In comes the Hot Shot Deputy. Now, I think he was pretty convinced we HAD lost our marbles when he walked in and all these doors were sitting propped open. He proceeded with caution. We explained what we were doing and so he grabs the two large trash bins and sets them out in the booking room hallway and says, "There! Now you have two obstacles to walk around." And as I'm happily taking a call, I look over and there he stands with a FIRE EXTINGUISHER over his head and he says, "You need to walk with THIS over your head."
And then I swallowed my gum, laughing. Okay not really. But if I would have had gum in my mouth, I would have swallowed it. I did laugh though. I'm a bad girl. I can just see that happening! ME, carrying a fire extinguisher over my head. Wait... ME, trying to get a fire extinguisher over my head. The truth of the matter is, I would be lucky to walk around that horseshoe with a bottle of ketchup over my head. I have NO strength in my arms, whatsoever. But I'm slowly trying to change that. Give me time. I will be running with a forty pound bag of flour over my head one of these days. Noooo............... that was a joke. I won't be doing that!
So...for round number three, we were supposed to walk around the horseshoe and to the end of each hall in our booking area (around the trash bins and the chair that we added) and that would make one full round. Apparently I don't know when good is good enough. Every time I entered the horseshoe area, I jogged. When I made it to the booking room, I walked. Kinda broke it up a little bit and made it a little faster. And I like to jog...in short increments. AND...the horseshoe doesn't have video.
So for round three, I added twenty eight steps to my new routine. Vivian added twenty three. She's longer legged than I am and takes less strides than me. It's still a good addition to our routine. And boy did it make all the difference in the world! More steps and jogging. I loved each and every step of it. We ended up doing a total of five rounds. Lunch was in there somewhere. I vaguely remember that between breaths. -_-
I came home and for the first time in weeks, I didn't need a nap AND I was ready to tackle something. So I deep cleaned my dining room. And that wasn't enough. So I got out my ingredients and started in on the pie that I wanted to make for Hot Shot. This story has a little background so let me tell you about that before I go into my horrific story.
I asked Hot Shot if he liked peach pie because I had one in my freezer and I was thinking about bringing it the next day. It was him, Vivian and me working. He said he did like it. He asked me if the peaches were fresh. My answer, "They were at some point." That's all the was discussed about the pie, okay. So, the next day I bring the pie in and he comes back to get some pie and I hand him his plate, he sits down and I leave the room. Vivian mentions something about it being a "fundraiser" pie. Immediately he stops eating the pie.
I come into the room and he says to me, "You didn't make this pie?" I assured him it was still a homemade pie and that my niece and her teammates made them. So I get nothing but grief over this pie. I couldn't believe it. What's the big deal? The next day, he tells a couple of other officers the story about the pie and how I "deceived" him about it being homemade and having fresh peaches. Of course, he only does it to bother me. And it works. Because he's my favorite. And he knows it.
He says to me, "It's okay if you can't make a peach pie. Just tell me next time that it's someone else's pie. Ya know, it just hurts right here (as he pounds himself over the heart) that you led me to believe this was your pie...." and on and on he goes. Making this huge deal over it not being MY damned pie. So guess what...yup! My goal was to make that stoopid pie. And I may sit and watch him eat the whole thing!
So as I get ready to get my crust started, I realize that I don't see any peaches. Anywhere in my kitchen. ANYWHERE. I even went as far as to look in the laundry room, the deep freeze AND the bathroom. Needless to say, it wasn't in any of these places either. I called Aunt Grace. Had her check her car because she's the one that drove us to the store that night. No dice. Nothing in her car. Grrrr. I call Hy-Vee and am not happy about it because... well number one...it's in c-town and I'm not; and number two...I don't have a receipt from that visit.
The nice little gal that helped me said nobody left a note about any peaches being left here and I could get another bag if I just bring my receipt in. I told her I didn't have my receipt so that wasn't going to work. Expecting the call to end right now, I head out to the van. I mean, what were the odds that they would be in there and not get noticed for two days? Surely I would have smelled them, right? So as I get to the van, this gal comes back on the line and says, "If you give me your name, I can let you come get another bag of peaches for free as long as you bring me your ID."
Just as she spits all that out.....I spot the bag. It's between the seats in the back. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??? WOULDN'T I HAVE SMELLED THEM??? Apparently not! And to make it worse, there were two bags of vanilla chips and a bag of lettuce. Now, here's where my two little friends come out and sat on opposing shoulders. One says to me, "Tell her you will come get them. Even if they're good, they just told you that you can have a free bag of peaches!!" And I think to myself that these things can't be good. But it's nobody's fault but my own here. My other little friend is saying to me, "Tell her you found the bag and thanks. Don't take advantage."
The little one in white won. I said, "Oh dear, I just found them in the back of my van!" I am imagining a peach hell when I get them in the house. I thanked her and hung up. Something was telling me that this pie may be the death of me. In the house I go. I am ready to tackle this project. And thank God, the peaches were ok. Just a couple of spots. I even ate one. I amaze myself.
An hour and a half later, Gee walked in the door and saw me sitting at the kitchen table. Flour everywhere. Literally. Dough all over my hands. Crumbled dough all over the floor. And "that look" on my face. He says to me, "Don't cry." So I cry. Dammit that pissed me off! I had to throw away two pie crusts because I was just not getting it right! Gee tries to help and just when I think he's got it, it is stuck...to the table and to the roller and then to his fingers. GEEZUS H CHRISTMAS TREE!!! I am starting to understand insanity all too well at this point! This dough also goes to the garbage.
Wouldn't have mattered if he would have gotten it though because "I" am the one that opened her big mouth and said that "I" was making this pie. From scratch. So if he would have gotten it figured out, I would have started over and just did what he did, I guess. Anyway, it didn't work. I took a break from it and he went to the store. I wanted a store bought crust so I could see just how this was supposed to be done. So he brings it home and we study it. And we get our crust like that one. And we tear the crust. The store crust. Phew. So I barely got my crust in the pan. Gee had to cut the edges because at this point, if I would have handled a knife, it may not have been so pretty.
Got the insides put together. Made too much but got it put together all the same. Put the top crust on (with a cut out on top) and in the oven it goes. Looks good. It's cracked though. Dammit!!! My goal is to make a pie crust every day until I feel I can do this. There should be no reason I can't make a damned pie crust!!
Got the pie delivered. It was "good." Seriously dude? I considered offing myself while doing this and all you can say is "good?" For the love of french fries man, get with the program!! Another peach pie coming up tonight. This one is for the freezer. I may have it bronzed.....if it turns out like I want it to.
Yesterday at work, Vivian and I got this brilliant idea to prop open the doors in the jail area (we are empty currently) and put our area to good use. I started out walking laps around, counting each and every step carefully, as Vivian did her stretches and upper body exercises while catching the radios and phones. And then we'd switch.
We each got a set of laps in...well Vivian was actually still finishing up...when the Sheriff came back to get some coffee. Pretty sure he thought we had flipped our lids. He sees all the doors open to the jail area and says "Where's the jail administrator? There's been a jail break!!!" Like I said, we are currently an empty jail so we are hurting nothing by utilizing the space. And all bases are covered.
So after we visit with the good Sheriff a while and he decides he doesn't want to be a part of this and leaves, I go out and do another set of laps and then so does Vivian. We were able to get some pretty good speed built up going around that horseshoe. It was awesome.
In comes the Hot Shot Deputy. Now, I think he was pretty convinced we HAD lost our marbles when he walked in and all these doors were sitting propped open. He proceeded with caution. We explained what we were doing and so he grabs the two large trash bins and sets them out in the booking room hallway and says, "There! Now you have two obstacles to walk around." And as I'm happily taking a call, I look over and there he stands with a FIRE EXTINGUISHER over his head and he says, "You need to walk with THIS over your head."
And then I swallowed my gum, laughing. Okay not really. But if I would have had gum in my mouth, I would have swallowed it. I did laugh though. I'm a bad girl. I can just see that happening! ME, carrying a fire extinguisher over my head. Wait... ME, trying to get a fire extinguisher over my head. The truth of the matter is, I would be lucky to walk around that horseshoe with a bottle of ketchup over my head. I have NO strength in my arms, whatsoever. But I'm slowly trying to change that. Give me time. I will be running with a forty pound bag of flour over my head one of these days. Noooo............... that was a joke. I won't be doing that!
So...for round number three, we were supposed to walk around the horseshoe and to the end of each hall in our booking area (around the trash bins and the chair that we added) and that would make one full round. Apparently I don't know when good is good enough. Every time I entered the horseshoe area, I jogged. When I made it to the booking room, I walked. Kinda broke it up a little bit and made it a little faster. And I like to jog...in short increments. AND...the horseshoe doesn't have video.
So for round three, I added twenty eight steps to my new routine. Vivian added twenty three. She's longer legged than I am and takes less strides than me. It's still a good addition to our routine. And boy did it make all the difference in the world! More steps and jogging. I loved each and every step of it. We ended up doing a total of five rounds. Lunch was in there somewhere. I vaguely remember that between breaths. -_-
I came home and for the first time in weeks, I didn't need a nap AND I was ready to tackle something. So I deep cleaned my dining room. And that wasn't enough. So I got out my ingredients and started in on the pie that I wanted to make for Hot Shot. This story has a little background so let me tell you about that before I go into my horrific story.
I asked Hot Shot if he liked peach pie because I had one in my freezer and I was thinking about bringing it the next day. It was him, Vivian and me working. He said he did like it. He asked me if the peaches were fresh. My answer, "They were at some point." That's all the was discussed about the pie, okay. So, the next day I bring the pie in and he comes back to get some pie and I hand him his plate, he sits down and I leave the room. Vivian mentions something about it being a "fundraiser" pie. Immediately he stops eating the pie.
I come into the room and he says to me, "You didn't make this pie?" I assured him it was still a homemade pie and that my niece and her teammates made them. So I get nothing but grief over this pie. I couldn't believe it. What's the big deal? The next day, he tells a couple of other officers the story about the pie and how I "deceived" him about it being homemade and having fresh peaches. Of course, he only does it to bother me. And it works. Because he's my favorite. And he knows it.
He says to me, "It's okay if you can't make a peach pie. Just tell me next time that it's someone else's pie. Ya know, it just hurts right here (as he pounds himself over the heart) that you led me to believe this was your pie...." and on and on he goes. Making this huge deal over it not being MY damned pie. So guess what...yup! My goal was to make that stoopid pie. And I may sit and watch him eat the whole thing!
So as I get ready to get my crust started, I realize that I don't see any peaches. Anywhere in my kitchen. ANYWHERE. I even went as far as to look in the laundry room, the deep freeze AND the bathroom. Needless to say, it wasn't in any of these places either. I called Aunt Grace. Had her check her car because she's the one that drove us to the store that night. No dice. Nothing in her car. Grrrr. I call Hy-Vee and am not happy about it because... well number one...it's in c-town and I'm not; and number two...I don't have a receipt from that visit.
The nice little gal that helped me said nobody left a note about any peaches being left here and I could get another bag if I just bring my receipt in. I told her I didn't have my receipt so that wasn't going to work. Expecting the call to end right now, I head out to the van. I mean, what were the odds that they would be in there and not get noticed for two days? Surely I would have smelled them, right? So as I get to the van, this gal comes back on the line and says, "If you give me your name, I can let you come get another bag of peaches for free as long as you bring me your ID."
Just as she spits all that out.....I spot the bag. It's between the seats in the back. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??? WOULDN'T I HAVE SMELLED THEM??? Apparently not! And to make it worse, there were two bags of vanilla chips and a bag of lettuce. Now, here's where my two little friends come out and sat on opposing shoulders. One says to me, "Tell her you will come get them. Even if they're good, they just told you that you can have a free bag of peaches!!" And I think to myself that these things can't be good. But it's nobody's fault but my own here. My other little friend is saying to me, "Tell her you found the bag and thanks. Don't take advantage."
The little one in white won. I said, "Oh dear, I just found them in the back of my van!" I am imagining a peach hell when I get them in the house. I thanked her and hung up. Something was telling me that this pie may be the death of me. In the house I go. I am ready to tackle this project. And thank God, the peaches were ok. Just a couple of spots. I even ate one. I amaze myself.
An hour and a half later, Gee walked in the door and saw me sitting at the kitchen table. Flour everywhere. Literally. Dough all over my hands. Crumbled dough all over the floor. And "that look" on my face. He says to me, "Don't cry." So I cry. Dammit that pissed me off! I had to throw away two pie crusts because I was just not getting it right! Gee tries to help and just when I think he's got it, it is stuck...to the table and to the roller and then to his fingers. GEEZUS H CHRISTMAS TREE!!! I am starting to understand insanity all too well at this point! This dough also goes to the garbage.
Wouldn't have mattered if he would have gotten it though because "I" am the one that opened her big mouth and said that "I" was making this pie. From scratch. So if he would have gotten it figured out, I would have started over and just did what he did, I guess. Anyway, it didn't work. I took a break from it and he went to the store. I wanted a store bought crust so I could see just how this was supposed to be done. So he brings it home and we study it. And we get our crust like that one. And we tear the crust. The store crust. Phew. So I barely got my crust in the pan. Gee had to cut the edges because at this point, if I would have handled a knife, it may not have been so pretty.
Got the insides put together. Made too much but got it put together all the same. Put the top crust on (with a cut out on top) and in the oven it goes. Looks good. It's cracked though. Dammit!!! My goal is to make a pie crust every day until I feel I can do this. There should be no reason I can't make a damned pie crust!!
Got the pie delivered. It was "good." Seriously dude? I considered offing myself while doing this and all you can say is "good?" For the love of french fries man, get with the program!! Another peach pie coming up tonight. This one is for the freezer. I may have it bronzed.....if it turns out like I want it to.
2012/06/26
A mix of emotions to mourn
I am emotionally exhausted. Today I worked with Vivian and we had a really deep..... kinda heart-to-heart............ raw emotion...pour out our souls kinda talk. And I shared things with her that I am completely surprised about. Amazed about. I think I have put myself in shock. I shared something with her that I have never shared with another human being. I also found out that her and I were a lot a like when we were "coming of age."
A couple of times, it took everything in me to hold back the tears from forming in my eyes. And the reasons that I held back were multiple.....and I haven't decided which is the right one. I don't know if I held back because I don't want to look weak. I mean, how dumb can a person be to spill their guts about their true and honest feelings and then cry about it? And I know she wouldn't have cared if I had cried. Hell, she may have cried with me.
And then I think about what would have been said (or thought) if I HAD cried and one of our officers walked in the room. That would have been uncomfortable. For me and the officer. We all know how guys feel when a woman is crying. Makes them feel like a trapped animal and they need to RUN! -_- Of course they would want to know (later) what was wrong. Everybody wants to help everybody it seems.
Another reason I didn't think I should cry is because I ALMOST felt like I was cheating on my "best friend." You see, I am still trying to find...in my heart...if Kate and I really are best friends anymore. I am doing my best by not keeping score of different things but when it's blatantly thrown in my face that she doesn't want to do things with me unless I go by her "conditions," it makes me not want to be around her. And I think I'm mourning the loss of our relationship. I thought I could handle that better.
When I say "conditions," here are some examples of what I mean. "I will go BUT we have to take my car (because mine doesn't have air) and you have to drive." Sounds okay every once in a while but it is every time we go somewhere. And if I don't agree, she won't go. Another "condition" that I know I have to deal with is when I tell her how I feel about something, she ends up telling either her sisters or her daughters. It never stays just between us. And I know this to be true because they have accidentally let it slip about certain things.
Is this stuff that you would overlook? I don't feel like I should have to be the one to physically drive us everywhere we go together. When we were in the city a little while back, I told her she had to drive to this store we were going to or we weren't going. Plain and simple. I was tired of driving. So she drove. And she took the long way, which is fine.....but she tried to make me feel guilty the whole time she drove. So it was easier to just give in and drive the damned car.
And that whole guilt thing is my biggest issue with her. And I've had a talk with her numerous times about it. She says she doesn't do it but anybody who knows her, knows she does it. It's how she is. And to a point, it's cute...and it's funny. But it's annoying as hell. And I'm to the point where I can't take it anymore. I'm not going to be "guilted" into doing something that I don't want to do simply because it's the ONLY way I get to spend time with her.
Back to today. I think the last reason that I held back the tears is because I was afraid that if I had crumbled in front of Vivian, I was going to do something else. And that something else was to tell her the WHOLE truth. I didn't lie to her today. Not about anything. But I didn't tell her everything either. She knows that and she's okay with that. I love that about her. She's willing to take just what she's given and she doesn't feel the need to delve any deeper unless it's warranted.
I would say this conversation was two and a half hours long. And a fast two and a half hours it was. Before we knew it, it was time to go home. That doesn't mean I want to do that again tomorrow. No, no thanks. Tomorrow is laugh day. No matter what! If I trip over my chair, get a concussion and have to go to the hospital.....we WILL laugh about it.
So since I have gotten home from work, all I have done is think. Think about the things we discussed. Think about how I reacted. Think about why I reacted the way I did. I have questioned myself about WHY I have the feelings I have. I have tried to "sort" my feelings into "what am I going to do" and "how can I walk away from this" categories.
I have thought about Kate and the things that have changed in our friendship. The things we USED to do; the things we USED to discuss; and the things we USED to put ahead of everything else. And the more I think about it; the more I type about it; the more I feel like I truly am mourning the loss of the best friend I have ever had in my life. I fret that I will never have the kind of relationship...........friendship with anyone else on this big ole ball of grass and water that I had with Kate.
That's not saying that her and I won't still be friends. There are just restrictions now. Blind restrictions is how I see it. We won't say outloud what we will and won't do together. We will just "feel." Geezus H. that is sad. How do two people let this happen to themselves? *sigh*
Have you ever mourned a friendship gone wrong? Maybe not wrong.... just went the other direction I guess. How do you move on when that one person that you have always felt that sense of security with, is no longer that secure person? How do you get a relationship...a friendship with someone else that is even close to that? Because I need a person in my life. Someone that I can share these intimate things with... that maybe understands because they have their own intimate things that they need to share. And not hate me for my thoughts and not think that I'm a bad person and not run to another friend... even if that other friend is a neutral party... and share my stuff...my feelings.
My head is spinning. It's almost midnight. Gee has to be up in five hours which means I will be up in five hours. And then back to work. Maybe I can cry myself to sleep tonight. I need that hard sleep that I had the other night...but I need it in a five hour increment.
A couple of times, it took everything in me to hold back the tears from forming in my eyes. And the reasons that I held back were multiple.....and I haven't decided which is the right one. I don't know if I held back because I don't want to look weak. I mean, how dumb can a person be to spill their guts about their true and honest feelings and then cry about it? And I know she wouldn't have cared if I had cried. Hell, she may have cried with me.
And then I think about what would have been said (or thought) if I HAD cried and one of our officers walked in the room. That would have been uncomfortable. For me and the officer. We all know how guys feel when a woman is crying. Makes them feel like a trapped animal and they need to RUN! -_- Of course they would want to know (later) what was wrong. Everybody wants to help everybody it seems.
Another reason I didn't think I should cry is because I ALMOST felt like I was cheating on my "best friend." You see, I am still trying to find...in my heart...if Kate and I really are best friends anymore. I am doing my best by not keeping score of different things but when it's blatantly thrown in my face that she doesn't want to do things with me unless I go by her "conditions," it makes me not want to be around her. And I think I'm mourning the loss of our relationship. I thought I could handle that better.
When I say "conditions," here are some examples of what I mean. "I will go BUT we have to take my car (because mine doesn't have air) and you have to drive." Sounds okay every once in a while but it is every time we go somewhere. And if I don't agree, she won't go. Another "condition" that I know I have to deal with is when I tell her how I feel about something, she ends up telling either her sisters or her daughters. It never stays just between us. And I know this to be true because they have accidentally let it slip about certain things.
Is this stuff that you would overlook? I don't feel like I should have to be the one to physically drive us everywhere we go together. When we were in the city a little while back, I told her she had to drive to this store we were going to or we weren't going. Plain and simple. I was tired of driving. So she drove. And she took the long way, which is fine.....but she tried to make me feel guilty the whole time she drove. So it was easier to just give in and drive the damned car.
And that whole guilt thing is my biggest issue with her. And I've had a talk with her numerous times about it. She says she doesn't do it but anybody who knows her, knows she does it. It's how she is. And to a point, it's cute...and it's funny. But it's annoying as hell. And I'm to the point where I can't take it anymore. I'm not going to be "guilted" into doing something that I don't want to do simply because it's the ONLY way I get to spend time with her.
Back to today. I think the last reason that I held back the tears is because I was afraid that if I had crumbled in front of Vivian, I was going to do something else. And that something else was to tell her the WHOLE truth. I didn't lie to her today. Not about anything. But I didn't tell her everything either. She knows that and she's okay with that. I love that about her. She's willing to take just what she's given and she doesn't feel the need to delve any deeper unless it's warranted.
I would say this conversation was two and a half hours long. And a fast two and a half hours it was. Before we knew it, it was time to go home. That doesn't mean I want to do that again tomorrow. No, no thanks. Tomorrow is laugh day. No matter what! If I trip over my chair, get a concussion and have to go to the hospital.....we WILL laugh about it.
So since I have gotten home from work, all I have done is think. Think about the things we discussed. Think about how I reacted. Think about why I reacted the way I did. I have questioned myself about WHY I have the feelings I have. I have tried to "sort" my feelings into "what am I going to do" and "how can I walk away from this" categories.
I have thought about Kate and the things that have changed in our friendship. The things we USED to do; the things we USED to discuss; and the things we USED to put ahead of everything else. And the more I think about it; the more I type about it; the more I feel like I truly am mourning the loss of the best friend I have ever had in my life. I fret that I will never have the kind of relationship...........friendship with anyone else on this big ole ball of grass and water that I had with Kate.
That's not saying that her and I won't still be friends. There are just restrictions now. Blind restrictions is how I see it. We won't say outloud what we will and won't do together. We will just "feel." Geezus H. that is sad. How do two people let this happen to themselves? *sigh*
Have you ever mourned a friendship gone wrong? Maybe not wrong.... just went the other direction I guess. How do you move on when that one person that you have always felt that sense of security with, is no longer that secure person? How do you get a relationship...a friendship with someone else that is even close to that? Because I need a person in my life. Someone that I can share these intimate things with... that maybe understands because they have their own intimate things that they need to share. And not hate me for my thoughts and not think that I'm a bad person and not run to another friend... even if that other friend is a neutral party... and share my stuff...my feelings.
My head is spinning. It's almost midnight. Gee has to be up in five hours which means I will be up in five hours. And then back to work. Maybe I can cry myself to sleep tonight. I need that hard sleep that I had the other night...but I need it in a five hour increment.
2012/06/24
Sleepy Long Day
I think it's going to be a long day. Don't ask me why. I was lying in bed this morning at 0100 hrs and could not go back to sleep. I thought I better get a blog out today so my head wasn't so busy and maybe I would sleep better tonight.
Yesterday was a normal "slow" day at the office. Nothing too strenuous really but for some reason I felt tired all day. At one point, I was sure I was going to catch a few "winx." I didn't though. I kept blaming my tiredness on the fact that I hadn't taken my meds yet. I don't have any certain time I need to take them. I just need to TAKE them. It's been evenings before I get to this the past week or so, so I didn't know why I was SO tired at this point. Still.....that's all I had to go on for being so tired.
Or was it because my dear husband came home from fishing somewhere between 0330 and 0400 hrs and the dogs went crazy.....which in turn woke my happy ass up?? That surely can't be it.
Moving on...........got lots to cover here. I have lots and lots of notes. I hope I know what they mean. I am thinking I may need to stop at the good ole Dollar General today and get me a notebook. And a little book light. My phone is way too bright to be taking notes on in the middle of the night. When I couldn't go back to sleep so early this morning, I had a million things to talk to you about. This morning, I am down to about seven things. I seem to have lost a few.
After work yesterday, I attended a family meeting "of the minds" to talk about the upcoming family reunion and it was a fun time. I have decided that this family reunion is my first step in facing my fear of public speaking. I plan to write a blog about last year's reunion and read it to them. They were all there. They know what happened. They can listen or they can go across the room and do something else. I will post that blog after it has been read to them. You're welcome.
Dinner with hubby and Aunt Grace then onto my least favorite thing to do in the world. This time at Hy-Vee . This time it was painless though. Gee helped get stuff down other aisles (mainly his own stuff) and it was quick. He even helped pay half of the bill. Kudos hubby. I got some fresh peaches. I'm going to make my very first peach pie this week. The Hot Shot deputy is going to get the pie though. He's pretty convinced I can't make one myself. I'll show him huh? I won't mention to him the part in the store where I picked up a peach and turned to my husband and said "This IS a peach, right?" This should be good.
We made it home and I was BEAT. Not in the literal sense. Don't be sending the cops to my house. I was emotionally, physically and mentally wiped out! Gee was rubbing my feet and it was too much for me. Too much work that is. AND I had a spider almost directly over my head the whole time and all I could do was lay there and wonder how I would ever move should that little asshole decide to take the ole "leapa faith." I was barely able to get up off the floor to get to my bed. It was awful. And I still don't know why...........hmmmmmm.
And I was so tired that when I headed upstairs, I told Gee he was welcome to come to bed and watch tv in the bedroom. NOTHING was going to bother me tonight! Trust me, that is a rare thing for me to say. So he did. He came to bed and watched tv. I put on my earplugs that just happened to be connected to my mp3 player and off to sleep I went.
Until 0100 hrs. All I know is my dog was downstairs barking. I was immediately wide awake. Not wide awake like you're "startled awake." Wide awake like you've had "enough sleep." Ugh! This can't be happening!!! I must have slept VERY HARD to be that well rested in about three hours time. So I had a talk with my bladder and we both compromised. I would get my happy ass up and walk down the thirteen steps to my bathroom if my bladder would go ahead and release what was in there. Because at this point, what the hell else am I going to do so early in the morning?
Took my cell phone with me to have a "night light" along the way. So I checked my facebook. Yes.....whilst I peed. Isn't THAT nice to know??? I had about eight comments.......... I don't know, it was early. People were commenting on my spider picture and saying they didn't even see a spider. Bite me people. All of you. Just bite my ass. It was on the ceiling. I was on the floor. It's not going to look huge to YOU in a photograph!!
Anyway, back to bed I go. As I'm lying there wondering why the hell I can't go back to sleep, I hear a vehicle. I don't know WHY I looked out the window but I did. Just in time to see one of the town "boys" driving off through the tall grass across from our property. Of course it was wet from the rain yesterday and he tore the shit out of it. Too bad he can't get a life. I don't know if he saw me looking out of the window or not but as soon as he messed up that property, he went home and got his motorcycle out. Who knows what trouble he got into after that. I was determined to go to sleep!
And I layed there. My mind just swirling with thoughts. I started thinking about the dogs which led to the puppies and that led me straight to thinking about my precious Bear. And my eyes started tearing up. Why the hell can't I think about this dog without crying?? It has been nine months since his death and I STILL can't get over this hurdle! Kate says that he was in my heart just like a child is in their parents' hearts. Maybe she's right. I don't know. I know I still can't read the blog I wrote about him. *sigh*
When I was in the hometown on Friday, I stopped in and saw Bear's brother, Harley. He's an amazingly beautiful dog and I fell in love with him all over again. Good dog too. He's not Bear though.
I still have a lot of notes in my phone. Not all from last night. I got to see my precious little Batman on Friday as well. It was so good to see him again. Oh yeah.....and his mom and dad! He's almost a month old and this is the first time I've seen him since the day he was born. He sure has changed but he sure is a little tiny baby. I don't think he likes his cool aunt so much though. He fussed a lot while I was holding him. And he cried once. But he was hungry. All the same, I think he's just as creeped out by me and my personality as I am by his! We should get along famously then, right?? It is yet to be determined. Only time will tell on that one.
I think I will stop for now. I have more...like I said...but it would be way too much. I don't need you overloading your brain so early in the week! Have a beautiful day folks!!
Yesterday was a normal "slow" day at the office. Nothing too strenuous really but for some reason I felt tired all day. At one point, I was sure I was going to catch a few "winx." I didn't though. I kept blaming my tiredness on the fact that I hadn't taken my meds yet. I don't have any certain time I need to take them. I just need to TAKE them. It's been evenings before I get to this the past week or so, so I didn't know why I was SO tired at this point. Still.....that's all I had to go on for being so tired.
Or was it because my dear husband came home from fishing somewhere between 0330 and 0400 hrs and the dogs went crazy.....which in turn woke my happy ass up?? That surely can't be it.
Moving on...........got lots to cover here. I have lots and lots of notes. I hope I know what they mean. I am thinking I may need to stop at the good ole Dollar General today and get me a notebook. And a little book light. My phone is way too bright to be taking notes on in the middle of the night. When I couldn't go back to sleep so early this morning, I had a million things to talk to you about. This morning, I am down to about seven things. I seem to have lost a few.
After work yesterday, I attended a family meeting "of the minds" to talk about the upcoming family reunion and it was a fun time. I have decided that this family reunion is my first step in facing my fear of public speaking. I plan to write a blog about last year's reunion and read it to them. They were all there. They know what happened. They can listen or they can go across the room and do something else. I will post that blog after it has been read to them. You're welcome.
Dinner with hubby and Aunt Grace then onto my least favorite thing to do in the world. This time at Hy-Vee . This time it was painless though. Gee helped get stuff down other aisles (mainly his own stuff) and it was quick. He even helped pay half of the bill. Kudos hubby. I got some fresh peaches. I'm going to make my very first peach pie this week. The Hot Shot deputy is going to get the pie though. He's pretty convinced I can't make one myself. I'll show him huh? I won't mention to him the part in the store where I picked up a peach and turned to my husband and said "This IS a peach, right?" This should be good.
We made it home and I was BEAT. Not in the literal sense. Don't be sending the cops to my house. I was emotionally, physically and mentally wiped out! Gee was rubbing my feet and it was too much for me. Too much work that is. AND I had a spider almost directly over my head the whole time and all I could do was lay there and wonder how I would ever move should that little asshole decide to take the ole "leapa faith." I was barely able to get up off the floor to get to my bed. It was awful. And I still don't know why...........hmmmmmm.
And I was so tired that when I headed upstairs, I told Gee he was welcome to come to bed and watch tv in the bedroom. NOTHING was going to bother me tonight! Trust me, that is a rare thing for me to say. So he did. He came to bed and watched tv. I put on my earplugs that just happened to be connected to my mp3 player and off to sleep I went.
Until 0100 hrs. All I know is my dog was downstairs barking. I was immediately wide awake. Not wide awake like you're "startled awake." Wide awake like you've had "enough sleep." Ugh! This can't be happening!!! I must have slept VERY HARD to be that well rested in about three hours time. So I had a talk with my bladder and we both compromised. I would get my happy ass up and walk down the thirteen steps to my bathroom if my bladder would go ahead and release what was in there. Because at this point, what the hell else am I going to do so early in the morning?
Took my cell phone with me to have a "night light" along the way. So I checked my facebook. Yes.....whilst I peed. Isn't THAT nice to know??? I had about eight comments.......... I don't know, it was early. People were commenting on my spider picture and saying they didn't even see a spider. Bite me people. All of you. Just bite my ass. It was on the ceiling. I was on the floor. It's not going to look huge to YOU in a photograph!!
Anyway, back to bed I go. As I'm lying there wondering why the hell I can't go back to sleep, I hear a vehicle. I don't know WHY I looked out the window but I did. Just in time to see one of the town "boys" driving off through the tall grass across from our property. Of course it was wet from the rain yesterday and he tore the shit out of it. Too bad he can't get a life. I don't know if he saw me looking out of the window or not but as soon as he messed up that property, he went home and got his motorcycle out. Who knows what trouble he got into after that. I was determined to go to sleep!
And I layed there. My mind just swirling with thoughts. I started thinking about the dogs which led to the puppies and that led me straight to thinking about my precious Bear. And my eyes started tearing up. Why the hell can't I think about this dog without crying?? It has been nine months since his death and I STILL can't get over this hurdle! Kate says that he was in my heart just like a child is in their parents' hearts. Maybe she's right. I don't know. I know I still can't read the blog I wrote about him. *sigh*
When I was in the hometown on Friday, I stopped in and saw Bear's brother, Harley. He's an amazingly beautiful dog and I fell in love with him all over again. Good dog too. He's not Bear though.
I still have a lot of notes in my phone. Not all from last night. I got to see my precious little Batman on Friday as well. It was so good to see him again. Oh yeah.....and his mom and dad! He's almost a month old and this is the first time I've seen him since the day he was born. He sure has changed but he sure is a little tiny baby. I don't think he likes his cool aunt so much though. He fussed a lot while I was holding him. And he cried once. But he was hungry. All the same, I think he's just as creeped out by me and my personality as I am by his! We should get along famously then, right?? It is yet to be determined. Only time will tell on that one.
I think I will stop for now. I have more...like I said...but it would be way too much. I don't need you overloading your brain so early in the week! Have a beautiful day folks!!
2012/06/20
I am so uncomfortable
Do you get uncomfortable when you are around people? I'm not talking, your family or your best friends. I'm talking about crowds of people. Do you get uncomfortable when you go to the grocery store? Do you get uncomfortable when you go to a wedding, graduation, baby/bridal shower? How about when you go to the doctor's office and there are people in the waiting area that you may or may not know.....and the people that you know, are people you don't know very well? Or when you're shopping...like clothes shopping...when there's an awesome sale going on. Yes, people everywhere. Do any of these situations slow you down? Stop you? Control you? Even paralyze you?
Well, to an extent I used to be afraid of about every situation I mentioned above. And more. It's true. My insides would shake at the mere thought of walking in a door and people turning their heads to look at me. I don't know HOW I got this fear. It just "became," I guess. Growing up in a town where I literally could name every person in every home, is such an "oddity" to me now, as I look back. When I go back to my hometown now, I barely know anybody. Or at least that's how I feel. I remember when we were growing up, us kids had to either walk or ride our bikes to the store. Every day. Or at least that's how it felt. Sometimes when I should have walked to the store, I still took my bike. Either the "baggers" would over-extend the bags or I would over-extend how much could be carried on my handlebars. Several times I would end up dropping groceries in the middle of the street and if someone was around, they would help me pick them up and get them to the corner or if nobody was around, I would walk a handful to the corner, come back and get more, take it to the corner, rinse and repeat.....until I got it all home.
My point being..... that never bothered me. Not once. And it didn't bother me that probably the bankers and the postmen and everybody in the courthouse watched me do this. But somewhere, somehow, that part of me that didn't care who saw me do anything stoopid or wrong or backward, left me. It slithered away in the night. Or someone stole it. I'm not sure which. I have thought that maybe a little bit of peer pressure helped that along but that's natural childhood, isn't it? Today, I am very aware of how people look at me when I respond to things. I don't know WHY I do it. I don't know WHEN I started doing it. All I know is that I do it. I don't like being the kind of person that worries about what others' think.
Going to weddings, showers or even funerals were paralyzing for me. Not so much the weddings as much as the showers or funerals. At least when you go to a wedding, you walk in (everyone looks at you) and sit down. Nobody cares about you anymore because someone else has already walked in and they are looking at them now. But showers almost paralyzed me. And to this day, I HATE the games. Yes, I truly hate them. If you ever invite me to a shower of any kind, please don't ask me to play a game. I would ten times over love MORE to go and start cleaning up or something. I can't explain WHY I don't like these games other than we usually have to either stand up and say something (which usually makes me feel stoopid) or we have to go "around the room" and give an answer (which again, makes me feel stoopid....especially if I don't know the answer) to some kind of baby question or marriage question.
Hello??? I obviously don't know anything about these things??? Why am I here again?? And funerals suck for me...well they used to. Don't worry, I'm not going to get morbid here. I hated funerals growing up because if you truly had an emotional bond.....even the teeniest bond...there were going to be emotions come up that you can't always control. I don't like crying in public. I think it's weak. To this very day, I believe it's weak. And weak isn't what I want to be known for. But then again, I don't want to be remembered as a "hard" person either. Does that make any sense? All I know is I'm glad I have never snorted at a funeral. I'll leave it at that.
The doctor's office was hard for me because I didn't "know" the people that I had to sit around. I was always so self-conscious about everything. "Do I stink? Does the person next to me stink? Does my nose work? What if I stink and can't smell myself? Can they hear me breathing? I can hear me breathing. Maybe I should hold my breath. Do I know these people? What if they speak to me? What would I even say? I wonder what my hair looks like in the back. They are probably wishing they would get called in so they don't have to look at my hair anymore." By the time I get called into the doctor's office, I have worked my blood pressure up to mountainous proportions. It didn't take long before I learned to tell them to please take my blood pressure a second time, right before I leave. And it was ALWAYS normal. Or at least my blood pressure was.
Black Friday is something that I probably don't have to even talk about but I will. For a bit. I have made myself believe that I don't like shopping.....any time of the year...because of the "horror stories" I have been told about Black Friday. I have always had a reason to not participate in that day. I have always said I would rather pay the higher price and not have the headache that (I hear) entails that day.
Now...the only one I didn't mention above is the one that is the worst for me. Public speaking. I shake from the inside out. Literally. I could never understand how the kids in school were able to go on stage and act. I was in a play when I was in the third grade. I had one line. And that was enough. I remember looking out and seeing all those people smiling back at me. I guess I'm lucky they were smiling, huh?
And the school concerts. I hated getting up in front of the school...the public...and singing. I loved chorus, don't get me wrong. And I had THE BEST chorus instructor ever, in high school. I remember once, trying out for a solo piece. Let's just say I didn't get it. Rightly so. And not because I couldn't sing the notes either. It was because I was expected to sing where EVERYBODY could see and hear me....and all the lights would be on. No dice lady. Put me back in the back row and it's all good. What was I thinking??
So, like I said, I don't know where I got these "fears." But over the years, I have made myself face them. When I go to the grocery store now...I walk in with my head held high. I don't know many people there but I make sure to smile at everyone I make eye contact with and say hello to anyone that I could reach out and touch.
When I go to a bridal shower.......okay yes, even funerals......I find something fun to think about. I don't make fun of. Don't get me wrong here. At showers, when I have to stand up and introduce myself and say how I know the person, I try to add something funny. Something personable. I remember at one bridal shower, I stood up and said my name and that the gal was "just like my own family to me; that she grew up at my house just like my nieces." And then my voice started flailing. I was going to cry. DAMMIT! My mind was going a hundred miles a minute. So I just followed up with "And now I'm starting to cry.....I don't know if it's because she's getting married or if I'm relieved someone else can help take care of her now." And they laughed...and clapped. And I was off the hook. Phew! Lesson learned. Just joke and things will be fine.
Funerals are no different. Thank God we don't have to get up and say how we know the deceased. We would never get through it. "The woman raised me right along with my mom and she scolded me and taught me right from wrong. This woman let me "be" one of her kids." Who is going to be able to say that at a funeral without crying? BUT, remember that I don't like to cry in public. I'm not saying that I don't cry at funerals...I just don't like to. So I try to look around as much as possible. I was always told you aren't supposed to look behind you when you are in church. Well...if a funeral is in a church, does that count? Because I don't like to look behind me even at a funeral. I try to figure out who people are. And usually, I like to have writing materials with me...ya know, in case I need to pass a note (in class).
Who knows, I may have a funny story to share about that person. I may need it for after the funeral when asked who I am. I can just pull a story out of "thin air." I was recently at the funeral of my second mom, Kathryn. A friend that was sitting near asked me who someone was that was sitting near us. Well, it took us a while but we finally figured it out. So when I confirmed the identity of this person, this friend says to me, "I thought she died?" I just looked at her and said "Maybe she did but she's here's paying her respects today. I guess she couldn't wait until Heaven." Go ahead and laugh. We did.
And at the doctor's office, I have changed my tune as well. I walk in...check in... give them some money... take my shoes off and sit and wait. I'm a diabetic, remember. They have to check my feet. Anyway, they always want to weigh me and they don't need to weigh anymore than they already are. But if a conversation isn't started with me within the first minute I'm in there, I will start one. Unless I'm in a bad mood. Then I don't talk to anybody I don't have to. But that truly is rare that I'm in such a bad mood I won't talk to anyone. Anyway, I have made myself start talking to people. And I force myself to make eye contact when we are talking. That took years to learn. And I don't know when it became so easy. But it is. Thank God.
And about that whole public speaking thing. I still hate it. But I want to do it. I try and try and try to make myself read things or say things...in a public forum...just because I can. I led a tour at work yesterday and was a little "tense" about doing it but once I got started on it, I felt like I was "in my element." It was great. I had a great time and the group had a great time. They asked a few questions but told me that they felt like I had given them all the facts I possibly could. I felt good afterward and so did they. A first for me.
And here's the reason I talked about being uncomfortable. I have someone in my life that is so uncomfortable with my friends and with my family, that they literally have to force themselves to go with me when I'm with friends or family. That makes me sad. And this person recently said to me with tears in their eyes, "You don't know what it's like to be uncomfortable around people. You don't know what it's like to feel like you're beneath others." Alas, I do.
And in all honesty, I put myself in a situation recently where I attended a party that consisted of two people that I knew. Just two. And it was nice. But I was uncomfortable. I felt like I didn't make enough money. I felt like my clothes weren't nice enough. And even though I was THAT uncomfortable (which is starting to feel like a new feeling for me), I would do it again in a heart beat because I feel like THAT is truly what gives us character. The feelings...the people...the places...that we force ourselves to overcome. To be the person that we want to be.
A few weeks ago, I met up with my friends Mick, Val and Bertha. We met at a restaurant that none of us had ever been to, in a town that none of us had probably ever been to or at least never spent much time in. We had a blast. It was so nice to see Mick again and finally meet his beautiful wife. I felt like "me." I didn't feel like that awkward teenager that I was the last time I saw him or "hung out" with schoolmates. Ten years ago though, I would have never done that. Fear would have kept me away. Does that make sense? Did I grow up somewhere along the way?
So, to the person in my life that thinks I'm comfortable everywhere I go.....now you know the real story. I have feelings. I have fears. And I get uncomfortable. I'm human.
And my "n" is sticking. I have to go!
Well, to an extent I used to be afraid of about every situation I mentioned above. And more. It's true. My insides would shake at the mere thought of walking in a door and people turning their heads to look at me. I don't know HOW I got this fear. It just "became," I guess. Growing up in a town where I literally could name every person in every home, is such an "oddity" to me now, as I look back. When I go back to my hometown now, I barely know anybody. Or at least that's how I feel. I remember when we were growing up, us kids had to either walk or ride our bikes to the store. Every day. Or at least that's how it felt. Sometimes when I should have walked to the store, I still took my bike. Either the "baggers" would over-extend the bags or I would over-extend how much could be carried on my handlebars. Several times I would end up dropping groceries in the middle of the street and if someone was around, they would help me pick them up and get them to the corner or if nobody was around, I would walk a handful to the corner, come back and get more, take it to the corner, rinse and repeat.....until I got it all home.
My point being..... that never bothered me. Not once. And it didn't bother me that probably the bankers and the postmen and everybody in the courthouse watched me do this. But somewhere, somehow, that part of me that didn't care who saw me do anything stoopid or wrong or backward, left me. It slithered away in the night. Or someone stole it. I'm not sure which. I have thought that maybe a little bit of peer pressure helped that along but that's natural childhood, isn't it? Today, I am very aware of how people look at me when I respond to things. I don't know WHY I do it. I don't know WHEN I started doing it. All I know is that I do it. I don't like being the kind of person that worries about what others' think.
Going to weddings, showers or even funerals were paralyzing for me. Not so much the weddings as much as the showers or funerals. At least when you go to a wedding, you walk in (everyone looks at you) and sit down. Nobody cares about you anymore because someone else has already walked in and they are looking at them now. But showers almost paralyzed me. And to this day, I HATE the games. Yes, I truly hate them. If you ever invite me to a shower of any kind, please don't ask me to play a game. I would ten times over love MORE to go and start cleaning up or something. I can't explain WHY I don't like these games other than we usually have to either stand up and say something (which usually makes me feel stoopid) or we have to go "around the room" and give an answer (which again, makes me feel stoopid....especially if I don't know the answer) to some kind of baby question or marriage question.
Hello??? I obviously don't know anything about these things??? Why am I here again?? And funerals suck for me...well they used to. Don't worry, I'm not going to get morbid here. I hated funerals growing up because if you truly had an emotional bond.....even the teeniest bond...there were going to be emotions come up that you can't always control. I don't like crying in public. I think it's weak. To this very day, I believe it's weak. And weak isn't what I want to be known for. But then again, I don't want to be remembered as a "hard" person either. Does that make any sense? All I know is I'm glad I have never snorted at a funeral. I'll leave it at that.
The doctor's office was hard for me because I didn't "know" the people that I had to sit around. I was always so self-conscious about everything. "Do I stink? Does the person next to me stink? Does my nose work? What if I stink and can't smell myself? Can they hear me breathing? I can hear me breathing. Maybe I should hold my breath. Do I know these people? What if they speak to me? What would I even say? I wonder what my hair looks like in the back. They are probably wishing they would get called in so they don't have to look at my hair anymore." By the time I get called into the doctor's office, I have worked my blood pressure up to mountainous proportions. It didn't take long before I learned to tell them to please take my blood pressure a second time, right before I leave. And it was ALWAYS normal. Or at least my blood pressure was.
Black Friday is something that I probably don't have to even talk about but I will. For a bit. I have made myself believe that I don't like shopping.....any time of the year...because of the "horror stories" I have been told about Black Friday. I have always had a reason to not participate in that day. I have always said I would rather pay the higher price and not have the headache that (I hear) entails that day.
Now...the only one I didn't mention above is the one that is the worst for me. Public speaking. I shake from the inside out. Literally. I could never understand how the kids in school were able to go on stage and act. I was in a play when I was in the third grade. I had one line. And that was enough. I remember looking out and seeing all those people smiling back at me. I guess I'm lucky they were smiling, huh?
And the school concerts. I hated getting up in front of the school...the public...and singing. I loved chorus, don't get me wrong. And I had THE BEST chorus instructor ever, in high school. I remember once, trying out for a solo piece. Let's just say I didn't get it. Rightly so. And not because I couldn't sing the notes either. It was because I was expected to sing where EVERYBODY could see and hear me....and all the lights would be on. No dice lady. Put me back in the back row and it's all good. What was I thinking??
So, like I said, I don't know where I got these "fears." But over the years, I have made myself face them. When I go to the grocery store now...I walk in with my head held high. I don't know many people there but I make sure to smile at everyone I make eye contact with and say hello to anyone that I could reach out and touch.
When I go to a bridal shower.......okay yes, even funerals......I find something fun to think about. I don't make fun of. Don't get me wrong here. At showers, when I have to stand up and introduce myself and say how I know the person, I try to add something funny. Something personable. I remember at one bridal shower, I stood up and said my name and that the gal was "just like my own family to me; that she grew up at my house just like my nieces." And then my voice started flailing. I was going to cry. DAMMIT! My mind was going a hundred miles a minute. So I just followed up with "And now I'm starting to cry.....I don't know if it's because she's getting married or if I'm relieved someone else can help take care of her now." And they laughed...and clapped. And I was off the hook. Phew! Lesson learned. Just joke and things will be fine.
Funerals are no different. Thank God we don't have to get up and say how we know the deceased. We would never get through it. "The woman raised me right along with my mom and she scolded me and taught me right from wrong. This woman let me "be" one of her kids." Who is going to be able to say that at a funeral without crying? BUT, remember that I don't like to cry in public. I'm not saying that I don't cry at funerals...I just don't like to. So I try to look around as much as possible. I was always told you aren't supposed to look behind you when you are in church. Well...if a funeral is in a church, does that count? Because I don't like to look behind me even at a funeral. I try to figure out who people are. And usually, I like to have writing materials with me...ya know, in case I need to pass a note (in class).
Who knows, I may have a funny story to share about that person. I may need it for after the funeral when asked who I am. I can just pull a story out of "thin air." I was recently at the funeral of my second mom, Kathryn. A friend that was sitting near asked me who someone was that was sitting near us. Well, it took us a while but we finally figured it out. So when I confirmed the identity of this person, this friend says to me, "I thought she died?" I just looked at her and said "Maybe she did but she's here's paying her respects today. I guess she couldn't wait until Heaven." Go ahead and laugh. We did.
And at the doctor's office, I have changed my tune as well. I walk in...check in... give them some money... take my shoes off and sit and wait. I'm a diabetic, remember. They have to check my feet. Anyway, they always want to weigh me and they don't need to weigh anymore than they already are. But if a conversation isn't started with me within the first minute I'm in there, I will start one. Unless I'm in a bad mood. Then I don't talk to anybody I don't have to. But that truly is rare that I'm in such a bad mood I won't talk to anyone. Anyway, I have made myself start talking to people. And I force myself to make eye contact when we are talking. That took years to learn. And I don't know when it became so easy. But it is. Thank God.
And about that whole public speaking thing. I still hate it. But I want to do it. I try and try and try to make myself read things or say things...in a public forum...just because I can. I led a tour at work yesterday and was a little "tense" about doing it but once I got started on it, I felt like I was "in my element." It was great. I had a great time and the group had a great time. They asked a few questions but told me that they felt like I had given them all the facts I possibly could. I felt good afterward and so did they. A first for me.
And here's the reason I talked about being uncomfortable. I have someone in my life that is so uncomfortable with my friends and with my family, that they literally have to force themselves to go with me when I'm with friends or family. That makes me sad. And this person recently said to me with tears in their eyes, "You don't know what it's like to be uncomfortable around people. You don't know what it's like to feel like you're beneath others." Alas, I do.
And in all honesty, I put myself in a situation recently where I attended a party that consisted of two people that I knew. Just two. And it was nice. But I was uncomfortable. I felt like I didn't make enough money. I felt like my clothes weren't nice enough. And even though I was THAT uncomfortable (which is starting to feel like a new feeling for me), I would do it again in a heart beat because I feel like THAT is truly what gives us character. The feelings...the people...the places...that we force ourselves to overcome. To be the person that we want to be.
A few weeks ago, I met up with my friends Mick, Val and Bertha. We met at a restaurant that none of us had ever been to, in a town that none of us had probably ever been to or at least never spent much time in. We had a blast. It was so nice to see Mick again and finally meet his beautiful wife. I felt like "me." I didn't feel like that awkward teenager that I was the last time I saw him or "hung out" with schoolmates. Ten years ago though, I would have never done that. Fear would have kept me away. Does that make sense? Did I grow up somewhere along the way?
So, to the person in my life that thinks I'm comfortable everywhere I go.....now you know the real story. I have feelings. I have fears. And I get uncomfortable. I'm human.
And my "n" is sticking. I have to go!
2012/06/19
My cloud of dust
Lately, I feel like the Peanuts character, Pig Pen. Not because I don't bathe.....I do. But because I feel like I have this "cloud of dust" hanging around me and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't suck it up with the vacuum; I can't wipe it away with a cloth. It just isn't budging. And it's not just your typical "cloud of dust." It's a dark cloud. It's not really over my head because I definitely feel the sun beating down on me; it's just that I feel "dark" all around me. I don't know if I can explain it any better than that.
After a long hard talk with my wonderful spouse, we both feel it is necessary that I learn to "let go" of some things. I need to "let go" of the fact that I can't control everything around me. I need to "let go" of the fact that I can't control where he goes, who he is with and what decisions he "should" or "shouldn't" be making over the course of his day. Afterall, he's an adult, right?
When the hell did I turn into my mother? And that's not even a fair thing to say because my mom NEVER had control over me. I think she learned that the more she tried, the worse the outcome was. I think I'm at that point. Finally. Why can't enough be enough for me? I always seem to want more. And not in the material way. In the way of control. Wow. Who died and made me God, right?
I have to get over this. The sooner the better. And I am already on my way. Or at least I think I am. I am trying to think beforehand and really pick my battles carefully. I even rode to C-town with Gee today (he drove I might add) and didn't once complain. Not about his driving (and he even took gravel) and not about the heat. The wind was strong. Terrible strong. And we don't have air in our van so I had every right to complain about that. But I didn't. I just dealt with it.
Gee took a lot out of me in the past twenty four hours. He really made me think. And then here's the thing that gets me. He can point out this stuff that he thinks is a problem in our marriage and I think about it; I concentrate on it; I do whatever I can do to make things better. But he hasn't even considered the things I need him to do to help me out.
Here are my questions to you, my reader. And I'm dying for feedback on this because I truly want to make my homelife better. As it used to be.
Amelia's question: Is it too much to ask my husband to take his dirty clothes and put them in the laundry room INSTEAD of the livingroom floor when he takes them off?
Gee's answer: "I always pick them up the next morning."
We both grew up in clean environments. Why is this such a hard concept to grasp? Do you think I have a right to expect this?
Amelia's question: Is it too much to ask my husband to open his eyes and see that there are things around the house I would like help with? And I don't mean "fixing" things.
Gee's answer: "If you tell me what you want me to do, I will do it."
Here's my problem with that answer. What he doesn't "get" is that there isn't anybody waiting for me when I get home, to tell me what needs to get done. I have two eyes (that apparently work) and I can SEE that dishes need to be put in the dishwasher OR taken out of the dishwasher OR that there is laundry in the washer that needs to be put in the dryer. And what really really gets me is, when I tell him that the laundry needs put in the dryer...............he takes what's in the dryer and puts it on top of the deep freeze (in a pile) and leaves it for me.
IS IT TOO MUCH TO FUCKING ASK????? How do I make my husband understand that if he would just help with HIS OWN messes, OUR life would be so much smoother. When I have people over for cards, or dinner or whatever.....I always deep clean. Always. Even if it is Matilda and the kids coming over. Here's the reason I feel I HAVE to deep clean.
I work a full time job. Just like my husband. I am tired when I come home. Just like my husband. I cook half the meals in our house. Just like my husband. I make messes in our house. Just like my husband. So why is it that I have to clean up after both of us? I keep saying that if we would BOTH do our parts everyday and keep the house clean ALL THE TIME, we wouldn't HAVE to deep clean. Am I right here, or am I right? I'm not asking him to come home and don a maid costume. That's disturbing in itself.
Here's what I'm asking. When you come home from work and you want to strip down because you're hot and you're tired and you just want to relax...............undress in the laundry room. Empty your pockets on the kitchen table or counter or even on the deep freeze in the laundry room (you know, on your way) but please please please stop leaving your dirty clothes on our livingroom floor. It's not a hard thing that I'm asking...................IS IT???
Here's what else I'm asking. When you are sitting in your chair eating your dinner at night and you set your empty pop bottles and your empty plate on your end table..............take it to the kitchen the very next time you get up. Even if it's to go to the bathroom. Take your shit and put it where it goes. How much simpler can that be?
Tell me people................DO I ASK TOO MUCH? Because my husband thinks that I am out of line in asking him to do this. He says he helps out at home but what he realizes is.............if the siding is straight on the outside of our house, doesn't matter to me! After nine hours of doing my job, I don't want to come home and pick up after him. I have to pick up after me. I'm irritated at this. I'm tired of this behavior and I'm just about fed up.
But I'm not going to get mad about it. And to me, that's the scariest thing that could happen. I guess he wants me to just bottle it up and forget about it. I think we both know that's a heart attack waiting to happen. *sigh* What do I do?
And here's the other thing that's got me down. Gee told me that I judge his friends. That I don't like any of his friends. That I don't want him spending time with any of his friends. And I thought about that. For about twelve hours, that's all I COULD think about. And I came to the conclusion that he is right. And I don't want to be "that" wife. Our friends are important and no matter who they are, they are OUR friends for a reason.
I don't want Gee thinking I want to pick his friends because to be honest, there's nobody on earth good enough for my husband. He's too good-at-heart. He can't see someone taking advantage of him to save his life. And maybe..... after all..... that's good..... right? Maybe we all need to stop thinking about the ones taking advantage of us and just BE. I don't know if that's the right answer or not but I will tell you this; Gee can have whomever he wants for a friend. I will just have to accept it.
Do you think it's weird to have a friend and not know their last name? Strikes me as odd. Acquaintances I understand but when you say "My friend Buford and I are going to go night fishing tonight at the lake," and your wife asks what Buford's last name is, shouldn't you at least KNOW? I mean, come on, there are lunatics out there people! Is it too much to ask WHO the person you are head-over-heels in love with, is going to be with?
How do I know that person didn't just steal a child? How do I know that person isn't wanted for questioning in a murder case? How do I know? And more importantly, how does Gee know? I guess we're not to know. Am I wrong for wanting to know what my husband does while I'm away? And who he is doing it with? I have never hid anything from him about who I am with or anything.
And let me ask you this question............for the men as well as the ladies...............what would you think if your spouse had a friend that wanted them to "sneak" an affair? Would you like it if your spouse kept hanging around with them? I do know my husband would never cheat on me. And I thank God for that. But there are a lot of situations out there and a lot of people pushing the "devil." Just something to think about.
Your comments are very much appreciated on this. Please help me remove my "cloud of dust."
After a long hard talk with my wonderful spouse, we both feel it is necessary that I learn to "let go" of some things. I need to "let go" of the fact that I can't control everything around me. I need to "let go" of the fact that I can't control where he goes, who he is with and what decisions he "should" or "shouldn't" be making over the course of his day. Afterall, he's an adult, right?
When the hell did I turn into my mother? And that's not even a fair thing to say because my mom NEVER had control over me. I think she learned that the more she tried, the worse the outcome was. I think I'm at that point. Finally. Why can't enough be enough for me? I always seem to want more. And not in the material way. In the way of control. Wow. Who died and made me God, right?
I have to get over this. The sooner the better. And I am already on my way. Or at least I think I am. I am trying to think beforehand and really pick my battles carefully. I even rode to C-town with Gee today (he drove I might add) and didn't once complain. Not about his driving (and he even took gravel) and not about the heat. The wind was strong. Terrible strong. And we don't have air in our van so I had every right to complain about that. But I didn't. I just dealt with it.
Gee took a lot out of me in the past twenty four hours. He really made me think. And then here's the thing that gets me. He can point out this stuff that he thinks is a problem in our marriage and I think about it; I concentrate on it; I do whatever I can do to make things better. But he hasn't even considered the things I need him to do to help me out.
Here are my questions to you, my reader. And I'm dying for feedback on this because I truly want to make my homelife better. As it used to be.
Amelia's question: Is it too much to ask my husband to take his dirty clothes and put them in the laundry room INSTEAD of the livingroom floor when he takes them off?
Gee's answer: "I always pick them up the next morning."
We both grew up in clean environments. Why is this such a hard concept to grasp? Do you think I have a right to expect this?
Amelia's question: Is it too much to ask my husband to open his eyes and see that there are things around the house I would like help with? And I don't mean "fixing" things.
Gee's answer: "If you tell me what you want me to do, I will do it."
Here's my problem with that answer. What he doesn't "get" is that there isn't anybody waiting for me when I get home, to tell me what needs to get done. I have two eyes (that apparently work) and I can SEE that dishes need to be put in the dishwasher OR taken out of the dishwasher OR that there is laundry in the washer that needs to be put in the dryer. And what really really gets me is, when I tell him that the laundry needs put in the dryer...............he takes what's in the dryer and puts it on top of the deep freeze (in a pile) and leaves it for me.
IS IT TOO MUCH TO FUCKING ASK????? How do I make my husband understand that if he would just help with HIS OWN messes, OUR life would be so much smoother. When I have people over for cards, or dinner or whatever.....I always deep clean. Always. Even if it is Matilda and the kids coming over. Here's the reason I feel I HAVE to deep clean.
I work a full time job. Just like my husband. I am tired when I come home. Just like my husband. I cook half the meals in our house. Just like my husband. I make messes in our house. Just like my husband. So why is it that I have to clean up after both of us? I keep saying that if we would BOTH do our parts everyday and keep the house clean ALL THE TIME, we wouldn't HAVE to deep clean. Am I right here, or am I right? I'm not asking him to come home and don a maid costume. That's disturbing in itself.
Here's what I'm asking. When you come home from work and you want to strip down because you're hot and you're tired and you just want to relax...............undress in the laundry room. Empty your pockets on the kitchen table or counter or even on the deep freeze in the laundry room (you know, on your way) but please please please stop leaving your dirty clothes on our livingroom floor. It's not a hard thing that I'm asking...................IS IT???
Here's what else I'm asking. When you are sitting in your chair eating your dinner at night and you set your empty pop bottles and your empty plate on your end table..............take it to the kitchen the very next time you get up. Even if it's to go to the bathroom. Take your shit and put it where it goes. How much simpler can that be?
Tell me people................DO I ASK TOO MUCH? Because my husband thinks that I am out of line in asking him to do this. He says he helps out at home but what he realizes is.............if the siding is straight on the outside of our house, doesn't matter to me! After nine hours of doing my job, I don't want to come home and pick up after him. I have to pick up after me. I'm irritated at this. I'm tired of this behavior and I'm just about fed up.
But I'm not going to get mad about it. And to me, that's the scariest thing that could happen. I guess he wants me to just bottle it up and forget about it. I think we both know that's a heart attack waiting to happen. *sigh* What do I do?
And here's the other thing that's got me down. Gee told me that I judge his friends. That I don't like any of his friends. That I don't want him spending time with any of his friends. And I thought about that. For about twelve hours, that's all I COULD think about. And I came to the conclusion that he is right. And I don't want to be "that" wife. Our friends are important and no matter who they are, they are OUR friends for a reason.
I don't want Gee thinking I want to pick his friends because to be honest, there's nobody on earth good enough for my husband. He's too good-at-heart. He can't see someone taking advantage of him to save his life. And maybe..... after all..... that's good..... right? Maybe we all need to stop thinking about the ones taking advantage of us and just BE. I don't know if that's the right answer or not but I will tell you this; Gee can have whomever he wants for a friend. I will just have to accept it.
Do you think it's weird to have a friend and not know their last name? Strikes me as odd. Acquaintances I understand but when you say "My friend Buford and I are going to go night fishing tonight at the lake," and your wife asks what Buford's last name is, shouldn't you at least KNOW? I mean, come on, there are lunatics out there people! Is it too much to ask WHO the person you are head-over-heels in love with, is going to be with?
How do I know that person didn't just steal a child? How do I know that person isn't wanted for questioning in a murder case? How do I know? And more importantly, how does Gee know? I guess we're not to know. Am I wrong for wanting to know what my husband does while I'm away? And who he is doing it with? I have never hid anything from him about who I am with or anything.
And let me ask you this question............for the men as well as the ladies...............what would you think if your spouse had a friend that wanted them to "sneak" an affair? Would you like it if your spouse kept hanging around with them? I do know my husband would never cheat on me. And I thank God for that. But there are a lot of situations out there and a lot of people pushing the "devil." Just something to think about.
Your comments are very much appreciated on this. Please help me remove my "cloud of dust."
2012/06/15
The numbers are climbing!
Can you believe this is my sixty eighth blog? Me either!! But then again, I DO have a lot to say... well usually -_- Although, I did tell my friends last weekend that I am the one in the crowd that "shy's" away from people but they didn't believe me. Who cares what they think anyway. Assholes.
So I just came from the garage at work. Seems we have caught a bird in there. I do NOT like birds. And I volunteered to go out in the garage with one. A pretty one. It's blue. Not the kind of blue I like on birds though. You know the color..... that beautiful blue when they can't get oxygen and are just about to die. Yeah, that's my favorite blue. All in all, it amazed even ME that I volunteered to go out and get that little blue shit. And shit it did. But not on me. I made sure of it. Didn't go underneath it once. That thing can sing. Man, it had a strong voice. I'd love to choke it out of him.....or her. The ending isn't as happy as you'd probably like. Definitely not as happy as I'd like. We didn't get the stoopid thing out and it's driving me crazy singing like it is.
And my baby has been crying all morning. Damn thing. I give it a bottle and it sucks it dry. I swear my baby is needy. Already five days old and it has a crib and an outfit. What a spoiled brat.
Oh oh oh, I almost forgot! The reason I brought up how many blogs I have written is because Gee and I were thinking about what I should do for my hundredth blog. His idea is to follow up on some of the things that I have talked about in previous blogs. What do you think of that? Is there ANYTHING you want to hear more about? And think long and hard about that before you answer. Now... here's what you do. You comment at the bottom of this blog and tell me just exactly what it is you would like me to elaborate on OR you can find me on facebook (as if you already haven't) and leave a comment on this link, or my page or in a private message OR you can find me on Twitter and send me a message. SEE? Aren't I easy to get along with??
So my bestie-this-week, (who is Kate again), and I are going to the city tomorrow night. We have a motel room reserved and I am so stoked about this trip. Here's why. We get to just "hang out" and not have to worry about kids or husbands or dogs or birds or babies or anything. AND we get to finally meet Bertha's (or Penny, depending who you are) son. Maybe even both of them. Corey and Carl. Now, most people probably think we have already met because I'm ALWAYS and FOREVER sticking up for Corey to his mom. I keep telling her to FEED THAT DAMN KID of yours! He's always hungry. It's a wonder he can keep his head up most days. She doesn't listen though. She starves him. On purpose I might add. Just to see if she can. She's an evil witch like that I tell ya.
But I love her <3. Just like I love my gal Vivian. She has left me for the week. She thought she needed some vacation. What the hell? AND as if THAT isn't bad enough, she took her husband with her! Seriously?? Is that even legal?? I tell ya what, it's a damn good thing I'm off this weekend or I would be pulling out the ole bullshit card. She better have AT LEAST one damn good blog out of all this vacation time. Three would be good but ONE is the least. Did you read that right Vivian? One to three blogs are due.
For those of you that haven't ever read my girl's blogs. Kids, cops & cookies. Check it out. She's like the Martha Stuart.....I mean Stewart...of our jail. I don't know why she likes Martha though. Rachel is cute and Martha embezzled. Loads of money. And got caught. Duh. Viv, don't be like Martha anymore. I deem you Little Rachel. Wait.....I think we're older than Rachel. Well I don't really know for sure to be honest. Maybe Rachel is REALLY and TRULY a little Vivian!! Yes, I think that's it! Oh look!! Her head just swelled! It's nearly triple the size that it was! It's okay Vivian. I still love ya <3.
I don't know how many of you watch TV or pay attention to the commercials but yesterday, I was lounging around...........ya know, eating my bon bons and being fanned by my studly gardener with a huge palm tree branch..... and this commercial for tic tacs comes on the tube. Now, before I elaborate on what a STOOPID and IDIOTIC commercial this was.....let me first tell you that a while back they had a commercial and they simply stated that "The average person spends an average of "yada yada" hours...or days...or months...hell maybe even years....on the toilet in their lifetime. Enjoy a tic tac." What the fuck is that? And maybe I've already elaborated on this once, I'm not sure BUT it must have struck me as pretty stoopid to still be talking about it after all this time, right?? Because normally I don't remember them at all. So then they go and try to outdo that one. The one that came on yesterday was, "Over a lifetime, the average person spends two months in meetings. Enjoy a tic tac." Are you kidding me?
Now granted, THIS one wasn't AS stoopid and idiotic as the toilet one BUT it's stoopid all the same. Oh yes, now I know I have talked about this before because I distinctly remember blogging that I should go into advertising if that's all they have to work with. Can you imagine me as an advertiser? I'd never get a sale. I can say that honestly and with a blank face. Because really..... who wants an advertiser that is going to suggest their tic tac commercial go something like this, "The average person does NOT like to take it in the butt. Try a tic tac. It'll change your mind." No, people won't go for that. An A for effort though, right?
So, since we're on the subject of commercials, I think I will add that insurance companies probably have THEE most entertaining commercials I have ever seen. Of course Progressive has Flo. I like Flo. I wish my hair was like hers. Well today I do. Tomorrow I could change my mind. Although Flo is sometimes a little too nerdy for me, I think she's pretty cool. AND she represents my car insurance. Bonus.
Another one I like is Farmers . "We are Farmers...Bom be dom bom bom bom bom." I like their jingle too. Can you tell? They have the one where the people are burnt up and standing next to a tree and their little group of interns has to figure out what happened to them. Or there's a motorcycle up in a tree. But the most recent one I like from them is the world's largest ball of hail. And then the chic drops it. I laugh my ass off every time she drops it! I mean duh, you KNEW you dropped it the LAST time I watched this, why can't you hold on to it better THIS time around!!??!!
And then there's the Geico thing. Salamander? Gekko. Yes, that's it. He's creepy in his own way but kinda cute. I would like to step on him as he's talking about life insurance. I don't remember if they sell life insurance though. Whenever I see the commercials, I am always worried about some bike running him over on the bridge in New York or some animal, like a wild boar, sneaking up behind him when he's trying to get through the grass (from his office to the sidewalk). I suppose that would be like walking across the damn country. So he kinda distracts me from knowing what they are really about.
But I have to say that my MOST FAVORITE commercial on TV right now is from State Farm . Where the guy is standing in the middle of his living room at 0300 hrs. and he's saying, "Yes, I'm married. You can do that for me? Oh, I'd like that." And his wife flips on the light and says "Who are you talking to at three in the morning?" She folds her hands in front of her, all defensive. "Uh... Jake, from State Farm." She grabs the phone from him and says "Who is this?" And instead of Jake answering her, her husband says again, "Jake, from State Farm." And this chic is getting testier by the word. "Well what are are you wearing, Jake from State Farm?" And then it shows this guy sitting in his little cubicle next to other guys in their cubicles and they all have on these State Farm shirts and khaki's and he says, "Uh...khaki's?" The woman pulls the phone from her ear, looks at her husband and says, "She sounds hideous!" And the husband says, "Well she's a guy."
I just laughed out loud typing about it. That one wins it for me. They should let me be a judge of things like this. I think I would be a great judge. Especially a food judge. I could taste shit all day long. Ewwww not shit. Let me re-phrase this. If I were going to be a judge, I want to be the judge that gets to taste all the desserts. Just one bite of each. And as part of my "judge" duties, I should be allowed to put people in jail. For whatever I want. That's all.
Well, I think I have been windy enough today. Be thinking about what you would like me to elaborate on for my hundredth. I am going to be having a tea party that day so I hope you can join me. I will have all kinds of cookies. And maybe cake. Tea of course. And coffee. Plenty of seating for everyone. See ya next time folks!!
So I just came from the garage at work. Seems we have caught a bird in there. I do NOT like birds. And I volunteered to go out in the garage with one. A pretty one. It's blue. Not the kind of blue I like on birds though. You know the color..... that beautiful blue when they can't get oxygen and are just about to die. Yeah, that's my favorite blue. All in all, it amazed even ME that I volunteered to go out and get that little blue shit. And shit it did. But not on me. I made sure of it. Didn't go underneath it once. That thing can sing. Man, it had a strong voice. I'd love to choke it out of him.....or her. The ending isn't as happy as you'd probably like. Definitely not as happy as I'd like. We didn't get the stoopid thing out and it's driving me crazy singing like it is.
And my baby has been crying all morning. Damn thing. I give it a bottle and it sucks it dry. I swear my baby is needy. Already five days old and it has a crib and an outfit. What a spoiled brat.
Oh oh oh, I almost forgot! The reason I brought up how many blogs I have written is because Gee and I were thinking about what I should do for my hundredth blog. His idea is to follow up on some of the things that I have talked about in previous blogs. What do you think of that? Is there ANYTHING you want to hear more about? And think long and hard about that before you answer. Now... here's what you do. You comment at the bottom of this blog and tell me just exactly what it is you would like me to elaborate on OR you can find me on facebook (as if you already haven't) and leave a comment on this link, or my page or in a private message OR you can find me on Twitter and send me a message. SEE? Aren't I easy to get along with??
So my bestie-this-week, (who is Kate again), and I are going to the city tomorrow night. We have a motel room reserved and I am so stoked about this trip. Here's why. We get to just "hang out" and not have to worry about kids or husbands or dogs or birds or babies or anything. AND we get to finally meet Bertha's (or Penny, depending who you are) son. Maybe even both of them. Corey and Carl. Now, most people probably think we have already met because I'm ALWAYS and FOREVER sticking up for Corey to his mom. I keep telling her to FEED THAT DAMN KID of yours! He's always hungry. It's a wonder he can keep his head up most days. She doesn't listen though. She starves him. On purpose I might add. Just to see if she can. She's an evil witch like that I tell ya.
But I love her <3. Just like I love my gal Vivian. She has left me for the week. She thought she needed some vacation. What the hell? AND as if THAT isn't bad enough, she took her husband with her! Seriously?? Is that even legal?? I tell ya what, it's a damn good thing I'm off this weekend or I would be pulling out the ole bullshit card. She better have AT LEAST one damn good blog out of all this vacation time. Three would be good but ONE is the least. Did you read that right Vivian? One to three blogs are due.
For those of you that haven't ever read my girl's blogs. Kids, cops & cookies. Check it out. She's like the Martha Stuart.....I mean Stewart...of our jail. I don't know why she likes Martha though. Rachel is cute and Martha embezzled. Loads of money. And got caught. Duh. Viv, don't be like Martha anymore. I deem you Little Rachel. Wait.....I think we're older than Rachel. Well I don't really know for sure to be honest. Maybe Rachel is REALLY and TRULY a little Vivian!! Yes, I think that's it! Oh look!! Her head just swelled! It's nearly triple the size that it was! It's okay Vivian. I still love ya <3.
I don't know how many of you watch TV or pay attention to the commercials but yesterday, I was lounging around...........ya know, eating my bon bons and being fanned by my studly gardener with a huge palm tree branch..... and this commercial for tic tacs comes on the tube. Now, before I elaborate on what a STOOPID and IDIOTIC commercial this was.....let me first tell you that a while back they had a commercial and they simply stated that "The average person spends an average of "yada yada" hours...or days...or months...hell maybe even years....on the toilet in their lifetime. Enjoy a tic tac." What the fuck is that? And maybe I've already elaborated on this once, I'm not sure BUT it must have struck me as pretty stoopid to still be talking about it after all this time, right?? Because normally I don't remember them at all. So then they go and try to outdo that one. The one that came on yesterday was, "Over a lifetime, the average person spends two months in meetings. Enjoy a tic tac." Are you kidding me?
Now granted, THIS one wasn't AS stoopid and idiotic as the toilet one BUT it's stoopid all the same. Oh yes, now I know I have talked about this before because I distinctly remember blogging that I should go into advertising if that's all they have to work with. Can you imagine me as an advertiser? I'd never get a sale. I can say that honestly and with a blank face. Because really..... who wants an advertiser that is going to suggest their tic tac commercial go something like this, "The average person does NOT like to take it in the butt. Try a tic tac. It'll change your mind." No, people won't go for that. An A for effort though, right?
So, since we're on the subject of commercials, I think I will add that insurance companies probably have THEE most entertaining commercials I have ever seen. Of course Progressive has Flo. I like Flo. I wish my hair was like hers. Well today I do. Tomorrow I could change my mind. Although Flo is sometimes a little too nerdy for me, I think she's pretty cool. AND she represents my car insurance. Bonus.
Another one I like is Farmers . "We are Farmers...Bom be dom bom bom bom bom." I like their jingle too. Can you tell? They have the one where the people are burnt up and standing next to a tree and their little group of interns has to figure out what happened to them. Or there's a motorcycle up in a tree. But the most recent one I like from them is the world's largest ball of hail. And then the chic drops it. I laugh my ass off every time she drops it! I mean duh, you KNEW you dropped it the LAST time I watched this, why can't you hold on to it better THIS time around!!??!!
And then there's the Geico thing. Salamander? Gekko. Yes, that's it. He's creepy in his own way but kinda cute. I would like to step on him as he's talking about life insurance. I don't remember if they sell life insurance though. Whenever I see the commercials, I am always worried about some bike running him over on the bridge in New York or some animal, like a wild boar, sneaking up behind him when he's trying to get through the grass (from his office to the sidewalk). I suppose that would be like walking across the damn country. So he kinda distracts me from knowing what they are really about.
But I have to say that my MOST FAVORITE commercial on TV right now is from State Farm . Where the guy is standing in the middle of his living room at 0300 hrs. and he's saying, "Yes, I'm married. You can do that for me? Oh, I'd like that." And his wife flips on the light and says "Who are you talking to at three in the morning?" She folds her hands in front of her, all defensive. "Uh... Jake, from State Farm." She grabs the phone from him and says "Who is this?" And instead of Jake answering her, her husband says again, "Jake, from State Farm." And this chic is getting testier by the word. "Well what are are you wearing, Jake from State Farm?" And then it shows this guy sitting in his little cubicle next to other guys in their cubicles and they all have on these State Farm shirts and khaki's and he says, "Uh...khaki's?" The woman pulls the phone from her ear, looks at her husband and says, "She sounds hideous!" And the husband says, "Well she's a guy."
I just laughed out loud typing about it. That one wins it for me. They should let me be a judge of things like this. I think I would be a great judge. Especially a food judge. I could taste shit all day long. Ewwww not shit. Let me re-phrase this. If I were going to be a judge, I want to be the judge that gets to taste all the desserts. Just one bite of each. And as part of my "judge" duties, I should be allowed to put people in jail. For whatever I want. That's all.
Well, I think I have been windy enough today. Be thinking about what you would like me to elaborate on for my hundredth. I am going to be having a tea party that day so I hope you can join me. I will have all kinds of cookies. And maybe cake. Tea of course. And coffee. Plenty of seating for everyone. See ya next time folks!!
2012/06/13
Weirdos on the loose
Is there a time of year for weirdos? If so, this is the time and they are out in full force. There have been reports in our surrounding counties of a white van with a weirdo driving around asking kids if they want to see his puppy. Is that what they call it these days? Puppies? Fucking dickheads. I'll show 'em MY puppy! I call her Bessie and she weighs about five pounds. She spits lead. At a very fast rate. And her bite is WAY worse than her bark!
I saw on Facebook where someone posted that this van was in our county but our officers haven't seen it AND nobody has called the POLICE about such things. You would THINK someone would want to let US know where this van is so WE could send our guys to it. And now you see why I get so frustrated about how people talk shit on cops. But I'm not going into that tonight.
I just saw tonight on Facebook where an old geyser weirdo in a red pickup truck got out and asked a little two year old girl to come to his pickup to get some candy. In my hometown. Thankfully her momma was close by and got her in the house. I hope she got some kind of description other than a red pickup though. Just remember people, get any and all details you can get AFTER you get you and your child safe. Your safety is the most important thing.
Here's the text message I got: "Today an old man like 80 stopped at "not mentioning names" house, got out of his truck but wouldn't get far from it. He asked "child" if she wanted some candy and then immediately he said you have to come over here and get it. Her mom immediately picked her up and went to the house. BE AWARE THIS IS NO JOKE AND IS HAPPENING RIGHT HERE!!!! PLEASE HELP SPREAD THE WORD!!!!"
Hopefully it's just some man that has Alzheimer's or dementia or something. Not that it makes it any better but if he doesn't know what he's doing, it kinda makes it a little more believable, ya know. I mean, NOBODY wants to think that someone in THEIR town...especially a small town...would do something terrible to a child. Am I right?
So please please please keep an eye on your kids and keep them safe. DO NOT, for any reason, let them play outside by themselves. I know it's an awful thing to say in our small communities but no place is safe anymore. It's a sad sad world. Weirdos and creeps at every turn. It's like the small towns have turned into the big cities.....where we feel it isn't any safer to raise your kids. I don't know what's right anymore. And another thing..... DO NOT try to take the law into your own hands and think you are going to "outsmart" these people. If they are truly weirdos, they are ready for just about anything. Don't try to "bait" them. Just get the hell away from them. That's the safest thing you can do for your child.
The other day a young mother came to my door (she knows where I work and she has a young child) and asked me this, "If they catch that man in the white van, can they put him in jail?" My answer is "no." I know she was very frustrated and I know she has nothing but concern for her daughter but they can't put them in jail just for doing what we have heard he has done. Now mind you, I am not a police officer BUT as much as we don't want to think about how the facts are staring us in the face, we have to. If someone is driving around asking kids if they want to see his puppy or if they want candy, that's not against the law. It's creepy as fuck but it's not against the law. When this person.....this predator.....actually DOES something, he hasn't broken the law.
I know that isn't what people want to hear and you are more than welcome to check that out with your local police but I'm pretty sure I'm right. And don't think I'm not concerned. I may not sleep tonight over this. I have many many many nieces and nephews in that town. Many cousins that are very young. This isn't right and this isn't fair but this is life as we know it. I can't stress to you enough to "go overboard" protecting your children. Don't trust anyone you don't know. And report report report. Talk to everyone you know. Tell any detail you can think of. Why? Because even the smallest detail can help save a child's life.
My little hometown has been somewhat divided lately and this is definitely NOT the time to act this way. This is exactly why each and every one of us have to stand together, spread the word and help in any way possible to make our streets.....our schools....and our yards a safer place. If I can help, please don't hesitate to ask!
I saw on Facebook where someone posted that this van was in our county but our officers haven't seen it AND nobody has called the POLICE about such things. You would THINK someone would want to let US know where this van is so WE could send our guys to it. And now you see why I get so frustrated about how people talk shit on cops. But I'm not going into that tonight.
I just saw tonight on Facebook where an old geyser weirdo in a red pickup truck got out and asked a little two year old girl to come to his pickup to get some candy. In my hometown. Thankfully her momma was close by and got her in the house. I hope she got some kind of description other than a red pickup though. Just remember people, get any and all details you can get AFTER you get you and your child safe. Your safety is the most important thing.
Here's the text message I got: "Today an old man like 80 stopped at "not mentioning names" house, got out of his truck but wouldn't get far from it. He asked "child" if she wanted some candy and then immediately he said you have to come over here and get it. Her mom immediately picked her up and went to the house. BE AWARE THIS IS NO JOKE AND IS HAPPENING RIGHT HERE!!!! PLEASE HELP SPREAD THE WORD!!!!"
Hopefully it's just some man that has Alzheimer's or dementia or something. Not that it makes it any better but if he doesn't know what he's doing, it kinda makes it a little more believable, ya know. I mean, NOBODY wants to think that someone in THEIR town...especially a small town...would do something terrible to a child. Am I right?
So please please please keep an eye on your kids and keep them safe. DO NOT, for any reason, let them play outside by themselves. I know it's an awful thing to say in our small communities but no place is safe anymore. It's a sad sad world. Weirdos and creeps at every turn. It's like the small towns have turned into the big cities.....where we feel it isn't any safer to raise your kids. I don't know what's right anymore. And another thing..... DO NOT try to take the law into your own hands and think you are going to "outsmart" these people. If they are truly weirdos, they are ready for just about anything. Don't try to "bait" them. Just get the hell away from them. That's the safest thing you can do for your child.
The other day a young mother came to my door (she knows where I work and she has a young child) and asked me this, "If they catch that man in the white van, can they put him in jail?" My answer is "no." I know she was very frustrated and I know she has nothing but concern for her daughter but they can't put them in jail just for doing what we have heard he has done. Now mind you, I am not a police officer BUT as much as we don't want to think about how the facts are staring us in the face, we have to. If someone is driving around asking kids if they want to see his puppy or if they want candy, that's not against the law. It's creepy as fuck but it's not against the law. When this person.....this predator.....actually DOES something, he hasn't broken the law.
I know that isn't what people want to hear and you are more than welcome to check that out with your local police but I'm pretty sure I'm right. And don't think I'm not concerned. I may not sleep tonight over this. I have many many many nieces and nephews in that town. Many cousins that are very young. This isn't right and this isn't fair but this is life as we know it. I can't stress to you enough to "go overboard" protecting your children. Don't trust anyone you don't know. And report report report. Talk to everyone you know. Tell any detail you can think of. Why? Because even the smallest detail can help save a child's life.
My little hometown has been somewhat divided lately and this is definitely NOT the time to act this way. This is exactly why each and every one of us have to stand together, spread the word and help in any way possible to make our streets.....our schools....and our yards a safer place. If I can help, please don't hesitate to ask!
2012/06/12
America's Best NOT at it's best.
So today was a really good day. I got the chance to sleep in and I mean really sleep in. It felt good. Started my day out doing some cleaning and made a batch of orange slice cookies. Realized I didn't have enough oatmeal to do two batches so it cut that short. What to bake, what to bake. I don't know why I feel this sudden urge to bake.....and bake A LOT. No matter how much I make, I don't feel like it's enough. My freezer gets fuller a little at a time but I feel like I'm going to "fall short" when I really need the goodies for something. *sigh*
Remember that blog I wrote about America's Best Contacts and Eyeglass because I really love them and their service? Well, here's an update. Gee ended up leaving work early one day so we could run to the city and see these wonderful people. I didn't tell them we were coming either. That's why they advertise "walk-ins," right? So we went in on a Thursday afternoon and I told them (the same woman that fitted me for the contacts in the first place) what had happened. That it was my fault for not coming in and doing a follow-up with my contacts, yada yada yada. "Now.... I'm here. Can we do this follow-up now so I can get these contacts in the mail? The company is holding them for me." She excuses herself and heads to the back.
A couple of minutes later she comes back and says "We can go ahead and do the follow-up now but you are going to have to pay for the exam." You've got to be shitting me. I'm pretty sure my eyes did the whole "Mask" thing where they pop right out of the sockets and almost smack someone in the face. "How much is that going to cost me?" With a big smile on her face she says, "Sixty nine dollars plus tax."
If fire could have come out of my eyes, it would have. I would have lit that gal AND the rest of the "technicians" up like walking, talking Christmas trees. Happy fucking day. "Forget it." I wasn't very nice when I said it either, can you imagine? I didn't stop there. "All you people have done is pull my chain on this deal simply because I didn't do a follow-up." I think she tried to interrupt but I wasn't listening. "I will just go home and have it done. It will be so much less wasted time. Matter of fact, I know that Target will match prices with you so we will go there from now on."
I love watching people scramble. And don't get me wrong. I wasn't being a bitch to her because I wanted to be. I was just at that point where I had had enough, ya know. "Well, the reason you would have to pay for it is because it's been past six months (yes it had been seven months) and that's our policy." Your policy sucks assholes. "But we can still order your contacts for you and you can just pay for them here."
And here's the real shitter of the deal. They wouldn't release a script for my contacts, for me, TO THE VERY company they are going to order them from. What a crock of shit!! So, I put my tail between my legs and write them out a check. And guess what??? It took them only four days to get their money from my account BUT here it is, twelve days later and I still have no contacts. What the fuck??
So I went online to look for a phone number or an email address. Something. I wanted to bitch about it and I wanted to bitch about it now. So I find a page that says I need to go to the FAQ's page first and see if anything can help me there and if not, fill out a customer service form. So I click on their link and it takes me to a FAQ's page but there's no form. So I go back and check it. I do the same thing again and still no form. What the fucking hell people???
So now I'm steaming and I go back, one more time (because the phone call was next and it was going to be loud with a lot of adult words in it) and on the left it says "customer service." Thank goodness. I click on it and nothing. It takes me to a page to schedule an exam. Must have been my mistake so I go back and do it again. Takes me to the same page as before. "Breathe Amelia, breathe." Finally on the third try, it gives me a form to fill out. I give them my name; my address; my email address; my blood type; my mother's date of her last period; the name of my father's first date ever; EVERYTHING.
And I get to the end of the form and there it is: "YOU CAN HAVE UP TO 500 CHARACTERS ON THIS FORM." Don't think I didn't get my point across in five hundred fucking characters. Actually it was less. I had seven characters available when I was finished and I didn't think they were smart enough to figure out ,,!,,. Anyway, I told them to call me. Not email me, not snail mail me. CALL me. We will see what happens. Assholes.
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