Restroom Revelations

Everybody wears them, to a degree.   And they are plural.   That is what is fascinating about people. Getting to see behind the masks. It's a gift that many don't appreciate. Some people are more open than others and others wear so many masks it appears they are open, when in fact, they are the most closed books you'll ever meet. It's all about trust.  Those that appear to be maskless are probably the ones that trust the least and have the most masks of all. Or I could be full of shit.  That happens too. When someone reveals something to you, though, that is a gift.  Don't take gifts for granted.  They are for treasuring.  I hope that I show those that have given me those gifts, that they are treasured.  I always worry about that.

It was a hot summer night and a group of us had met at this little bar that was in a strip mall that are all too frequent in Virginia Beach. This one was where the bar scene in Navy Seals was filmed.  We had all congregated there as a group after work. We drank beer and played pool for awhile and introductions were made to those of us who didn't know everyone. I found myself sitting next to the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.  Blond hair and green eyes, a most glorious combination. I honestly cannot remember what we talked about, but I do remember that face, and those eyes.  I just leaned on the bar and stared.  He was a fascinating conversationalist, don't get me wrong, but I was just enamored at the time. Eventually, the evening came to a close, as all evenings must and he walked me out to my car. As we were saying our goodbyes, he said to me..."I am going to kiss you now."  Seven words made my knees weak. And kiss me he did.  He...

I adopted a new kid last week.  This one is a girl. She makes number seventeen, besides the step kids. I thought this is a thing that all people did.  I do it because it was done for me.  You have those friends growing up that you call sibs from another crib, sister from another mister, or brother from another mother. Most of these kids come from either broken homes or dysfunctional families.  What it means is that I love them unconditionally.  If they need to talk to me about anything at all, I am available, just as if they were my own children. I have taken some of them to the hospital and bailed some out of jail.  I've hugged them when they were sad and chewed their asses out when they were wrong. I've helped them with homework, fed them, and snuggled their babies, too. I've cheered for them, mourned with them, drank beer with some of them. Most of all, I just loved them. They all had their stories.  They all needed just one person t...

This is the first cat we got after moving here.  We named him Felix, but as you can see, we mis-named him.  He should have been named Toothless, for the dragon in How to Train Your Dragon. He's pretty much the friendliest cat in the world.  When people come to visit, he sleeps with them.  I haven't had anyone complain yet.  He's polite.  Sometimes he just gets in your suitcase for the duration of your visit. He comes running when he's called.  When he was younger, I'd go on the back porch and holler real loud until my voice bounced off the trees, and he would come tearing out of the woods and run through the pasture all the way to my feet. When he was a kitten, he made friends with the neighbors brindle colored great dane.  I'd look out the window, and there would be this tiny kitten chasing this huge dog.  It was a joy to watch, honestly.  They were fast friends. Unbeknownst to me, Kool-Aid was supposed to be a working d...

I should keep a dream journal.  My dreams lately have been extremely vivid.  I'm not sure how to account for that, but I'll roll with it. Dream interpretation has never been a gift of mine, but I had one so bizarre, I have to record it. I was on a city street with someone close to me.  I cannot remember who it was, but their presence was familiar. In the sky, lit up beautifully and large, was Saturn with the rings in all their glory.  It was glowing,  (It could be I've seen a picture recently or something) and the rings were sparkly with stars. I was walking along having a discussion with whomever was there, finger outstretched, pointing at the beauty, and marveling at the wonder. Then, out of the blue it fell to earth, bouncing along the streets causing chaos as people screamed and ran. I ran too, but it followed me and kept bouncing and kept bouncing, getting smaller and more diminished with every bounce, until it landed at my feet, a gray round ba...

I think I was sixteen years old or so when I realized that people sucked. I couldn't wait to grow up and be an adult because I mistakenly believed that adults didn't play childish games. I was wrong.  They merely get better at it. I remain naïve and hopeful, personally.  It's my greatest tragedy and my greatest beauty.  Here's the dirty little secret.  I have no faith in people's words anymore.  I don't believe you when you say you love me.  It's easier that way. When I was 22 I fell in love with a man.  I loved him with every fiber of my being.  We lived together for eight months.  I took care of his child like he was my own. Then one day I came home and he was gone.  It didn't appear that way at first glance, the rum was still there, the pile of clothes in his chair, but he was gone. No explanation, no nothing.  As if that time had not existed at all.  Turns out he was engaged to someone else the whole time....

I think that the cruelest thing that you can do to a person is to render them invisible. Imagine this.  A person invites themselves into your life and makes you laugh. They spend inordinate amounts of time pursuing a relationship with you. They say all the right things.  They make you feel loved, at the very least. They put real effort into building a friendship.  They make promises, declarations of intent, and reassurances. They confide in you, give you gifts and glimpses into their soul. Then one day, they are done.  They refuse to acknowledge your presence, or return your calls or texts.  They simply ignore you. No explanations, no anything.  It becomes as if you never existed.  They make you invisible.  With that invisibility, you begin to question everything that came before.  You begin to question your own worth and value.  Sometimes. Sometimes you've had it happen before, so you recognize it for what it i...

I saw a thing that said animals can be transgender, too.  Someone just shoot me, please. It did remind me of a funny incident that happened not too long ago.  I think my daughter is still mad at me for this one. She adopted a cat from the neighbors next door. A cute little black cat she named Luna.  It was very small, but they told her it was a girl. One day when she was visiting, I was watching the cat play, and couldn't help but giggle. I turned to my husband and said, "Gee, I wonder when she's going to notice that the cat is a boy?" About 2 months later, I get this indignant phone call.  She took the cat in to be spayed, and they called to inform her that they neutered him instead. Boy howdy was she pissed. It was totally worth it.

Introducing Fred and Wilma.  Fred is the white one.  These are my big babies.  They are Anatolian Pyrenees, and they really are big babies. They are a rescue of a rescue, in a manner of speaking.  Their momma was a rescue who was emaciated when she was adopted.  Her rescuer was oh so happy when she started gaining weight. One night, two weeks or so after he got her, as he was trying to sleep, she kept nosing him (it's a breed trait) and wouldn't let him sleep. That's when he realized she was in labor!  She had 5 fat puppies, but now he had 6 dogs and not nearly enough room for them all. It has been my experience in life that in order to have a harmonious house, there must be someone for everyone.  Which is why we went ahead and had that sixth kid, haha! It seemed kind of mean to take one puppy away from the family it had been with since conception, so we took 2. I have never regretted that decision either.  These two are a bonded ...

When love is used as a weapon of any kind, can it be called love? When it is withheld and used as a form of reward/punishment for compliance, that is not loving.  That is manipulation. You will do this because I love you is the cruelest burden you can lay upon a person.  It implies you owe them because they love you. Love is a gift to be given freely.  When love becomes dependent upon what the other person does or does not do, then it isn't love at all.  It is a form of possession.  People cannot be possessed. What if you think the person you love is engaging in self-destructive behavior?  Does that give you the right to demand that they comply with your wishes?   I always go by the adage "if it's not hurting me, then I let them be."  What if they claim that you ARE hurting them by exercising your free will to live your life as you choose? I posit then, that is their problem.  What if you have to choose between your l...

Typically, Monday is a happy day for me. Most people dread Mondays, and I can get that, what with the cutthroat world of business and all. For me, Monday was the first day of peace and quiet, and I treasured it. Looking back, I have no idea how I survived having 6 kids.  I am a quiet, introspective person by nature.  A thinker. Those years of constant turmoil, drama, and endless chaos, were hell for me. While the empty nest has been a bit of an adjustment, I find myself dreading those inevitable family get-togethers where everyone is present.  There are just too many people. Don't get me wrong, I do like people.  I just don't like a bunch of people at the same time.  I am more of a one on one kind of people person. Crowds quite simply stress me out, even if I do love all 25 of ya. My Mondays now consist of doing whatever it is that I want or don't want to do.  Life is good like that.

This one is my soul cat.  She is supposed to belong to my son, but all parents know what happens to the animals when the kids move out.  What was theirs, is now yours.  If only it worked that way with their video games. I think this one has always owned me, though.  When I went to the shelter to check the cats out, there were a bunch of little kittens running around on the floor.  I couldn't get the attention of any of them. This one here was the only little baby in a cage.  And boy did she try and get my attention.  She mewed and mewed, stretched up in the cage and tried to get to me.  I stuck my finger in the cage, and she rubbed on me and was mewing up a storm.  It was love at first sight. I looked at the attendant and said, "I think she's picking me."  He had this grin on his face that I didn't quite understand.  It wasn't a grin of agreement, it was more like "you poor sucker". Little did I know what I was getting m...

Occasionally, you cross paths with someone in life whom you have respect, but as time goes on, you become friends. Such is the case with me and Yabu.  Our initial meeting was at a blog meet in Helen about 7 years ago. He actually had two blogs that I liked and bookmarked. One of those blogs, however, was written by a ghost writer, unbeknownst to me at the time. At that initial meeting, he had a twinkle in his eye, and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Sam. AKA Yabu." He was a small guy; that surprised me. Like many small people though, he was larger than life. For my part, I was extremely grateful that he didn't perpetuate the misconception that the ghost writer stories were real. They had a very real feel to them, all the more testament to the actual author. For his part, he expressed admiration that I was in the process of getting my teeth fixed. As I got to know him, I learned that this particular subject was extremely important to him. I often heard him express frust...

"Let's go get a steak," he said. "You're crazy," she responded with a touch of horror in her voice. "Seriously! I really need a steak.  The food is horrible here." He then gave her the most lugubrious look he could muster, almost achieving puppy dog eyes. She sighed. "Fine.  I'll go get the car." They were newlyweds still and she hadn't the heart to say no to his every want. The lights were glaring, as hospital lights always are, especially at night. He had just had a total hip replacement two days earlier.  But, if he wanted a steak, a steak he shall have. She was a bundle of anxiety as she helped him into the van.  Never before had it seemed so tall. This was a bad idea and she fully knew it. Once she had him buckled in, off they went in search of a steakhouse. Who knew there wasn't a single steakhouse in the region.  That did baffle her a bit. After an hour and a half or so of driving, they went thro...

It was one of those perfect summer days.  A day where you can see the heat shimmer off the pavement by 8 am. Her mother was a firm believer in free range children, so by 8:30 she found herself outside with the whole day before her. She was happy in the carefree way only children can be. Donut in hand, she stood in the front yard contemplating the shenanigans of the day. Playing is serious work for children. As she was scanning the field behind the house for the playmates that were usually out at this time of morning also, she saw instead a dog. He was golden haired and he glinted red in the sun.  He sat down before her and gazed quietly. She did the thing that comes so natural to children.  She shared her donut with him. They were fast friends just like that. The rest of the summer passed in a blur.  Every day when she woke up, there would be the dog.  Her parents said she couldn't keep him, but she couldn't run him off and they let it be. They...

It is a common human experience to have a period of time where you have to give everything you ever believed a new look. Some people believe that this signifies madness, insanity, or a mid-life crisis.  Many labels are attributed to this. What if it is completely normal to do this?  What if it's not a crisis... but an awakening instead? Perhaps the crisis is for those who are uncomfortable with the idea of you stepping out of your accepted pigeonhole.  Or perhaps the questions make them uncomfortable because change means a loss to some. What I wonder is, though this is a common human experience, what is the trigger for others?  Is it a thing that is triggered?  Or is it merely part of the aging process?

This is our life. It's not what I envisioned. Time for a new vision. I'm going to bed.

Sometimes you have to look at your life and say...this is my life.  This is what it is. All the hopes, dreams and desires...all the things you thought it would be...are not it. It is what it is. So many people can't just see what is.  They are caught up in what they wanted it to be. You can't get stuck like that and call yourself alive or living any kind of life. I think the hardest thing to do for most people is to look at things and say...It is what it is. Guess what?  If you aren't living life as you envisioned it..then create a new vision.

Sunsets are inspiring sometimes.  I like to sit in the quiet and reflect on things.  For so many years, life was busy all the time busy.  No time to stop and enjoy the sunsets. I rarely missed a sunrise in those days, though, and those are special too.  They signify the beginnings of things. Beginnings are always great.  Spring has always been my favorite time of year. Now that I am a little older, though, I can appreciate some endings.  There are things I've learned to like about winter.  Sunsets are definitely beautiful. I find it is more important to appreciate the moment, the right now. Today has been life interruptus, and my hiatus from the world comes to a forcible end.  Hopefully, it's only temporary, but sometimes people have a claim on you and your time. I'm not really sure how I feel about that.  I have talked about all of us having this one life to live for a while now, and not being obligated to other people yet ...

I have this love/hate thing for people. Recently, I decided to take a hiatus from people.  It has been two weeks and one day.  So far, I am not bored.  Nor am I ready to deal with people again. It was my previous theory that in order to write, one must get out and do things to write about. Perhaps, when one has no outside influences, then the imagination can take over and create new things. We shall see.  Right now, I am working on re-establishing the discipline.  Writing is work, no doubt about it.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. Another definition of that is "in a rut".  It happens to the best of us.  Life gets monotonous, boring. Most of the time it's depression.  And that particular condition is insidious by nature I think.  It's a thing that makes you overthink every. single. thing. When I feel it too strongly, my nature is to change my environment as part of a shock therapy.  Get a brand new opinion, take a road trip. Some people let it paralyze them.  I think we are all guilty of that at times, even. When the tidal wave threatens to overwhelm and drown you, maybe, just maybe you should get out of the water. Life changes are hard to make no matter how small the change it seems.  I'm learning that the key to it all is baby steps. That and always always take the risk.  That is an intrinsic part of me that will never cease and a great comfort in the knowing. ...

Star Spangled Banner  video here to watch for Independence Day. Happy 4th, y'all.  I will be boycotting the fireworks with the puppies this evening.  We don't really care for the boom boom stuff. So, it will be me, my puppies, a movie, and an ice cold beer as a celebration of our freedom.  May you celebrate in whatever way you deem appropriate.  Rock on!

It is of my nature to interpret things as being my fault.  I think this is where I have been conditioned over a lifetime of blame. Every family needs a scapegoat, and somehow I have become such. This makes me incredibly sad.  I was looking for a different word, but sad describes it. I interpret rejection as a flaw in myself. I'm not sure when I came to view myself as fundamentally unworthy of love, but that is where I am. Then I get angry.  Angry because nobody likes the needy girl who is so desperate for love that she will tolerate anything for just a little affection. I do have some pride left. I've learned to love myself.  Being alone is much more tolerable than the crumbs of affection that are being thrown at me in the guise of love. Love is not controlling, or possessive or any of that.  I think most people don't know what love is.  I don't know what love feels like either.  Every now and then I get a glimpse, a glimmer, but then h...

You don't get to be my age without having the question of faith come up into conversations with peers. Some believe, and some don't.  That falls under the umbrella of personal freedom, and not for me to judge. My question is whether or not people use faith as justification for their actions?  We see this happen in radical islamic actions.  Their faith totally justifies killing us. Before you get all hot and bothered when I ponder that we, as Christians, do it too, understand that we do. Look at how we treat people we believe are sinners.  Prostitutes, gay people, alcoholics, drug addicts, people who wear white after Labor Day. What if those people that you perceive as sinners are simply following their faith?  What if they just felt like white was a good color for them that day? Some people of faith believe in preordination, and others believe in free will.   If you believe in preordination, then aren't you doing God's will this very second? ...

I love sunrises.  All the hope that a new day dawning brings.  All the promise of adventure.

I know, I know, people are supposed to say something before they drop off like that. It's been my experience that you are either blogging ...or doing stuff to blog about. In my case, the last two weeks have been filled with the latter. I drove 2550 miles approximately in one week.  And I can't tell you a thing. Just kidding.  I had a great time!  Catching up with old friends, and a much-needed vacation at the beach. Took in a show, got sunburnt, drank margaritas on the beach. It just didn't last long enough.

Invisibility, secrecy, and quietness are all good when you are young. I came to understand this when the Mike sunk. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkBDnZqNwIQ This was the big bad back in the day.  They did sea trials, and she didn't pass.  I remember my frustration at the time because we could have saved so many, but the Russians had such distrust that had been fostered over the years, that they wouldn't let us near.  I think not all hands were lost, but we could have helped.  I remember watching, helpless, while this occurred. That is when I realized how much ego sucks. Here I am so many years later.  If I hear one more time that it does no good to mourn, when you could be doing something..blah blah blah.  I could just scream. I am doing something.  I am honoring the lost.  I honor the living too, as much as they allow me. Most folks are too busy with themselves and judging others to recognize it until it is too late.  Such is...

Words have the ability to create a picture so strong it almost feels real. You can read words and almost feel the loving caress of a lover, or hear the plaintive cry of a cat. You can tell yourself.  This is real.  This is real.  And, it is..almost. When the face of reality rears its ugly head, you cry in despair and frustration because you almost forgot about it. Almost. Devastatingly disappointed because you dared hope once again. You live for the seconds and minutes where love is almost real and the pain is almost gone. You then square your shoulders to resettle the burden of pain, put on your brightest smile to hide it from the world, and go about the rest of your life as if there was nothing wrong.  You almost convince yourself it's true.

Love...the thing that has been a subject of philosophy and music and religion and all of that. What is love?  How do we recognize it?  What do you DO with it?  Is it a noun?  Is it a verb? I don't know that I can answer those questions any better than anybody else.  I can only attempt to explain what it means to me..how it defines me. The Ancient Greeks tell us that there are eight different types of love .  You can feel a combination of those with almost anyone you meet. Love is not a bad or shameful thing.  Society teaches us that it is, especially in certain instances. Society is wrong. The proverbial they say that if you are married, you aren't supposed to have any kind of love for anyone else of the opposite sex ever again. That once you enter into a marriage contract..that love is considered "true" love, and all others are false? How impossibly unrealistic is this, seriously? The heart feels what the heart feels. Besides all t...

To me, the highest form of love is to make people feel comfortable enough that they feel free to be whomever they are in that moment.  

I really hate to write these types of posts, but the love I felt for this individual demands it. The year was 1987.  I was 19 years old, married to my first husband and in "A" school, in the Navy. The gentleman that is the subject of this post was first my A school instructor, then he was my lover, and friend. It was one of those unexpected connections. I honestly had no idea he felt anything for me beyond being a student until the night of the graduation party from A school. I didn't realize I felt anything for him, either.  Prior to that, I was merely grateful for his help in guiding me to safety after a particularly bad night with my now ex-husband. You see, one night my husband held a gun to my head all night, and threatened to kill my family.  I knew my brother, who was only 15, was going to be home alone the next day while I was at work, and I was scared out of my mind. My soul was as battered and bruised as my body. Wayne took me through the ...

It occurs to me that if we create our own hell, by contrast, we create our own heaven.  I know this theme has been explored before, but these are my own words. Where does it start…with a simple decision?   According to any religion and most philosophies, this is exactly how it starts.  The next step involves gathering the tools you need to create your ideal persona, I suppose.  This is mostly takes the form of ideas, attitude changes, people, and knowledge. The goal is to merge with the persona and become exactly who you want to be. Consider, though, that sometimes the tools to learn these lessons aren’t readily available. When we get frustrated at lack of progress, maybe we should be a little kinder to ourselves. All of life is a series of events and choices.  Sometimes we have to choose between a shit sandwich and a shit hoagie.   I propose that every person is a study of their successes.  So many times we look at our ...

Sometimes you meet a person; a person who winds up being very special.  A person, who, in an instant can insinuate themselves into your mind and you think, wow! It is sometimes human nature to wonder...what if I had known this person 10 years ago, or 5..or 2. Wrong way to think.  Let me tell you why. You weren't the same people at those points in life.  It took all of your life experience, learning, loving, all of that to bring you to where you are today. When you love a person, you love all that brought them to be whom you love.  Without their life experiences to shape them, they would be different people and therefore not the one you love or the one you have that deep connection with. People come into our lives at the right time.  It's up to us to recognize it and cherish that time.

Six actual posts.  I'm just rocking and rolling here. Every day I get up and stare at the blank page. One of my favorite authors says you have to write through all the emotions...and so I shall try. This isn't going to be pretty, but at the same time it will be beautiful, I hope.

It's an age old question.  Does art imitate life, or does life imitate art? I think that art imitates life, personally.  You have to have a model for your art. That is why it behooves us to get out and experience as much of life as is humanly possible. It keeps you well rounded, and gives an outlet for art ...which is the ultimate power... creation. There is also that exposure to different viewpoints and opinions. The other thing we never bespeak of, but is absolutely true, is that art is immortality.  When you create something, it stays long after you are gone. This thought is comforting after a certain age, and life experience. You only get one life.  Make it count.  Make the art.

There is an art to kissing.  There really is. Ironically, my worst kiss was somewhere along the lines of my first kiss, but many years later. It was a Superbowl Sunday and my phone rang just before kickoff from a friend who wanted to know if he could come over and watch the game because his wife was sleeping or some such nonsense. Being clueless, the way I am, I didn't realize he was making a play for me at first.  He portrayed himself as a nice guy. Suddenly, I realized that I was sitting on the arm of my couch.  He had slowly encroached upon my territory until that was where I wound up.  I didn't notice it until then, honestly.  He was a slick maneuver-er, that one. About the time I realized how he had backed me into a corner, or the edge of the couch anyway, he makes his move and plants a kiss on me. It was the worst kiss I've ever had.  No tongue, grinding his lips into mine until it hurt.  Good lord. No finesse, no sophistication whats...

It was the summer of my eleventh year.  I was half feral, being encouraged to be out of the house shortly after breakfast and not come home until sundown. I fell in with a boy just as lonely as myself and we roamed far and wide that summer with a stray dog as our constant companion. We did all the normal things kids that age did.  We spent a lot of time exploring the outdoors fishing, climbing trees, raiding gardens, riding a mini-bike.. When we got thirsty we would drink out of the hose.  When we got hot, we would crawl under the trailer. Eventually we got run out from under the trailer and went off in search of a new hangout.  Not terribly far away ...we found a treehouse.  It was just a floor put up in a tree, but it counted. The tree had boards nailed to the side of it that you had to climb.  Once at the top, there was a thick branch to shimmy and drop down to the floor. At one point in the summer, he looked at me and said,  "Want to tr...

So, this morning I had a couple of epiphanies.  One being that water makes you poop.  Go figure. More on that later. I have been in a funk for quite a while lately.  Years, even.  Back in October, I finally saw some light..some hope. Today I realized...really realized....that the measurement for how you know you really really want something is that you don't let any obstacles, negativity, or disparagement stop you from achieving your goals.   I know there's slogans out there like..Just do it.   If you don't want it, you will make excuses.  If you truly want it, you make solutions. Sometimes part of it is learning something you know.  For example, water is good for you.  We all know this, but until you actually commit to drinking the right amount every day, you don't really know it. Anyway, that's all for now folks.