WARNING!!!!! Rant about to occur!

Hi everyone!

arg-dancing-happy-holidays-red-sm-url

I promise I’ll get to all my mushy, sarcastic, holiday fun as Christmas approaches, but I wrote this on Facebook and my sister immediately said that I should post it here too. So I’m a gonna! 😉

Love you guys and bear with me and my rant. It’s all from good intentions, even if it is quite mouthy, I swear! 🙂  🙂  🙂

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UPDATE TO MOUTHY RANT BELOW:

Hey everybody. Now I feel bad because I think that my crazed rant the other day was taken the wrong way. Or let me rephrase that, that I did not explain myself well. Trying to write all of that on a stupid tiny little phone, I sometimes leave things out that maybe I shouldn’t.

What I really meant, was not that I don’t love seeing things like, “Ha!” or “Love it!” or “Sending prayers,” or “Happy birthday,” or “You’ll be fine…you’re strong,” and things like that.

Those comments are AWESOME and BEAUTIFUL and I know that I personally am always very thankful for them because it means someone actually stopped, took a moment out of their day and let me know what they were thinking in that moment. That’s precious. I love that.

What I was flipping out about the other day was when somebody is clearly in pain and reaching out for help on Facebook, and someone gives them some condescending platitude that makes it seem like they, the comment writer, are just so much smarter and more enlightened then everybody else. And if the person writing the original post was just better or stronger or understood the world more, then everything be just fine. That I just cannot abide and that is what I was commenting on the other day.

It was a specific post that I was referring to that just set my hair on fire. So please know, that I was in no way, shape or form trying to say that anyone should stifle saying anything on Facebook. You guys know if I’m for anything it’s for free speech. I was more saying that real empathy when somebody needs help is so much better than preaching at them because you think you’ve got The Answers to Everything and you will arrogantly share them with everybody else so we are better people through your enlightened comment.

I’m so very sorry if I came across the wrong way, or left that out, because there’s nothing I love more than having fun with you guys on Facebook. It’s those little connections that help keep us all sane and make us giggle and remind us that we’re loved.

So if anybody took what I was saying wrong or I just did a shity job of explaining myself, I apologize. I meant no disrespect to anybody, with the exception of people who are jerks. They can still bite me.

Love you guys, and I really mean that.

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PS: If you are wondering what got me to this point, and why I started noticing this kind of stuff and had to post a rant, here’s what I just shared with one of the dearest people in my life that I hadn’t shared with anyone before–she’s a 2nd mom to me.

On the day I nearly died…THE ACTUAL DAY, someone said to me, “You had a stumble, big fucking deal. This will be okay.”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????

That was the kind of thing I was talking about with platitudes and remarks that are utterly inappropriate. How about something else like maybe, “Oh my God, I’m so happy you are alive.” or something like that?” But to say that awful thing to me as I lay there in organ failure, 90% dead? WTF????

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Original mouthy rant: 

So something I’ve noticed over the last few years that has finally started to drive me crazy to the point of wanting to flip out and respond in ways that are impolite and against my sweet nature is the fact that so many people now speak in cliche on Facebook.

It’s as though they’ve read every self-help book in the world and think that they are now the gurus of “How to make your life better,” or “Take control of your life,” or “Don’t let people affect you. Your reactions are YOUR reactions and you own them.”

First off, duh. Secondly, don’t fucking preach at me, or anyone else for that matter.

We all have our own lives. Our own experiences. Our own pain. Our own joy. Our own fears. Everyone is shaped differently due to the experiences that they’ve had in their lives. Therefore, people tend to react differently in the same situation. Now this sounds like ME being all preachy, but what it really is, is me just trying to explain that having someone tell you that, “No one can make you mad, only you can allow yourself to feel anger,” makes me want to punch a fucking wall.

Because while that is a great sentiment, and true in many ways in that we choose how we respond to external stimuli, if someone punches me I’m going to be fucking mad and I’m going to want to punch them back in the fucking head…with a hammer.

So yes, I could say to myself, “They just punched me. WTF??? But I am in charge of my response. Maybe they punched me for a good reason? Maybe they had no reason for punching me. But don’t allow them punching me to make me mad because anger gives THEM the power and I have a choice of whether or not to give them power. Choose not to.”

Give me strength. Good Lord. Possibly only Gandhi and/or Mother Teresa would respond that way. Having natural responses to external stimuli is one of the most natural things in the world. And it’s okay to react.

Now, do I suggest reacting in a calm way? Yes. The madder I get, the calmer I get (believe it or not!). I have found that this works best for me. Especially because I’m always so bonkers and giggly and sarcastic and tend to let most shit slide because in the end who really cares about most of the spilled milk, but when I’m really, really fucking pissed, I tend to become very quiet, very introspective, and think very hard about what I’m going to say so that I don’t regret anything that comes out of my mouth.

That is how I take control of how I react to external stimuli. That doesn’t mean that anybody else has to do it that way. But it works for me. But to say that I’m not allowed to have my gut, raw reactions to other people’s behavior is ridiculous and insulting and quite frankly stupid as fuck.

I’ve also noticed that while many, many of us have been through just absolute nightmares the last year, that some people feel empathy for others and for the pain they’re going through, but other people feel like they own what pain is and that only they are the experts on how to deal with it. That is such a bunch of shit.

I tell my dear friends at work, when they aren’t feeling well, how much I hope they feel better and that I’m praying for them. And almost all of them tell me that it’s ridiculous for them to even complain about their aches and pains because look at what I’ve been through this year. And I tell them that just because I’ve been through pain doesn’t lessen their pain. It doesn’t make their migraine go away. It doesn’t help them go into remission from cancer. It doesn’t help their knee that is in constant pain or their back that hurts like a fucker all the time. Just because I’ve been through the wringer, doesn’t mean that I own what pain is and that no one else could ever understand. That’s ridiculous and quite self involved.

So, you’ll have to forgive me for my rant. And I know I may have even gotten off track a bit. But I’m just so exhausted by this inauthentic, non-genuine truckload of responses that I constantly see on Facebook. It’s so annoying. Be your real self. That’s all any of us want from our friends. I don’t want anyone to be fake with me. If you think I’m an asshole, tell me I’m an asshole and unfriend me.

I much prefer honesty to anything else. Anyone who’s ever read any of my posts knows that I say it like it is, whether it’s pleasant or not. And I’m not telling anybody else that you need to write your posts like I write mine. Again, we are all individuals and we choose to communicate in the ways that we want. But at the same time, if I read one more cliched piece of shit that says nothing, is an excuse for real emotion, is condescending or patronizing, or is used as a weapon to make somebody feel as though their emotions don’t have the value that they actually do have, I’m going to freak the fuck out.

I love you guys all so very much and that’s why I just let it all hang out. Good, bad and ugly, you guys see every side of me. Now, for a lot of people I know that is hard to do. And I’m certainly not telling you that you should. But please, when someone is angry about something or hurt by something or scared about something, please give them the consideration, respect, compassion and love they deserve by responding to them in an authentic way that lets them know how you really feel. Quoting a fucking bumper sticker isn’t going to help anybody unless the bumper sticker says, “Fuck ’em all, you’ll get through this.” Then at least they might laugh.

Again, sorry for the rant. But I read something on someone else’s page this morning that just pushed me over the edge and I had to comment on these way-too-common, cliched, self-help, lazy, bullshit responses that I now see so often on FB. This person’s comment just happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. But that camel has been really fucking tired for a long time, so it didn’t take much.

Love you guys, even if it doesn’t sound like it during this rant, I do. I just want us all to live in a place where our opinions are valued, even if they’re disagreed with. Where our hopes and dreams can be supported by those that love us. Where our fear and our anger can be dissipated by the love and support of our friends.

I don’t want to live in a world of fake shit. I want to live in a world of truth and love and kindness and a good kick in the ass sometimes if it’s needed.

I hope everybody has a wonderful, relaxing, healthy, happy weekend. We’ve all earned it. Thanks for putting up with my mouthiness. I know I go on with my crazy verbal vomit sometimes and I love that you guys put up with me. Hugs!

My Insane Sunday

Story 1:

This is why owning weird pets is horrifying when your husband is out of town. So we have Pokey the Hedgehog, otherwise known as Monster. Monster gets live superworms everyday, which is revolting enough. But every time I open the lid to where we keep the worms, just like I did a few minutes ago to give them food so that they stay healthy and pass along those healthy vitamins to Pokey, the condensation from worm goo always splashes on to me.

There is no amount of bleach or lye in the world that can ever make me feel clean again after having worm juice splatter all over me. And I’m not particularly squeamish about things, but worm juice? It landed on my arm, my hand, MY CHEEK!!!! Good Lord. My cheek. I can probably cut off the arm and manage a fairly reasonable life, but I can’t cut off my face! What’s a girl to do?

Well, I’m going to go vomit now. Kidding, but that’s how grossed out I am. Those worms will be lucky if they get this food ever again until the hubby gets home. ICK!

Of course, we all know that deep down I’m a big softy, so I will give them more food. But I will want to puke the whole time.

Story 2:

You might think that being splashed with worm juice would be the hardest part of my day today. That would be inaccurate.

I’m trying to make the house somewhat less disgusting because my darling friend Brenda (literally known her since we were 1 and 2 years old) will be in town and I don’t want her to vomit when she walks in my house because I have not really been able to do any cleaning for the last nine months and she is very neat. She even vacuums when we are on vacation–God bless her.

So I very stupidly, very very stupidly, sit on the floor to try and reupholster a sofa cushion which is about the size and weight of a queen-sized mattress.  Keep in mind, I haven’t done more than walk to the bathroom for the last 9 months, but I’m determined to have a decent looking house when she visits. So, there I am… using those upholstery twisty things trying to clamp this king-sized blanket on to this enormous sofa cushion which weighs more than a car. I’m huffing and I’m puffing and I’m exhausted by the time I’m done. And then I realize I can’t get off the fucking floor.

I’m still in my boot after surgery on my foot, so that entire leg is essentially useless because I can’t get it underneath myself or put full weight on it. And while my arm that was broken is mostly better, it still can’t take any real weight.

So I have only a right foot, a right arm and I’m trying to get my wider-than-usual ass up off the floor. I tried everything. I tried rolling around. I tried getting on my knees. You would think I’d be a pro at that by now, but it did not help in this particular case. 😉 I tried rocking back and forth to build up some momentum. I rolled onto the sofa cushion figuring that would give me an extra 4 inches of lift. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail.

It was only through the grace of God, who I’m quite sure was laughing hysterically at me, and some magical hand reaching into my dining room and pulling my ass up off the floor that I’m not still sitting there. I should have taken a video of it. It was the most ridiculous 20 minutes of my life! And, of course the phone was no where near me so I couldn’t call someone to come lift my ass up off the floor!

Anyway, I finally manage to get up off the floor, and then I had to move that heavy motherfucking cushion from the dining room onto the sofa in the family room and by the time I got it on there I realized that I’m never moving again for the rest of the day. If I have to use the bathroom I’m just going to pee on the sofa.

Conclusion:

That was my Sunday. WTF was I thinking? Have I lost my mind? I need to just stay on the sofa, not move and say fuck it to anything that’s still messy. That’s my vow and I’m sticking to it!

Love you guys!!! 🙂 XOXO

 

Musings of an Old Broad on her Birthday

As always, I am truly amazed and thankful to have such a blessed life.

That I’ve reached 46 (WHAT THE FUCK??? HOW AM I NOT STILL 22???) and am, for the most part, healthy, and for the full part, happy, is simply incredible and I don’t take a moment of it for granted.

When I think back on my life, where I’ve been, am, and will be, it feels like every single thing has led me to this wonderful place where I smile every day.

It hasn’t been easy over the years. It’s been pretty damn hard a lot of the time. But my 40s have taught me so much about what is truly important in life that I’m forever grateful for every wrinkle, scar and extra pound on my ass because each of them brought me to where I am.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I sound like a fuckin’ Hallmark card…but I’m allowed.  😉 It’s my birthday, dangit (well, this is getting posted a day late, so I have all the extra wisdom that one extra day has brought me).

So, in the tradition of my other birthday posts, I’m going to list things that I’ve learned this year and things for which I’m thankful.

Things I’ve Learned:

  1. Being patient, even when pushed to the brink of homicide, is a gift that should be used often.
  2. Some people just don’t listen and/or have any sense of recall. While it drives me absolutely bonkers when I’ve said something 4600 times and then hear “No, you never mentioned that before,” people are who they are and no amount of trying to make them remember shit will help. So, I’ve learned to just live with it or write stuff down for them so there can be no confusion.
  3. This is not a new piece of learning, but I was sorely tested to keep this in mind over the past year: Some people that you are forced to deal with are just total fuckheads and there’s nothing you can do about it. I got so mad the other week I threw my phone across the room and sat there fuming for 5 minutes while the conversation carried on without me. It was either be off the phone for a few or say things I wouldn’t regret, but would get me in trouble anyway. So, I guess I did learn that a good phone throw can, at least, be temporarily satisfying.
  4. Not listening to the advice of people who dislike you for their own stupid reasons is the very best thing you can do. Like my mom always said, “Consider the source.” If someone’s an asshat or a bitch and they tell you how YOU need to change so that they can be happier, tell them to go eat a bag dicks.
  5. Never, ever, ever, ever, and I do mean NEVER talk politics with anyone you aren’t willing to fight with. It’s so stupid, as everyone is welcome to their opinion, but people go bat shit crazy with politics and it just isn’t worth it (in my book at least). You go on with your bad self if you like to talk politics, but count my ass OUT. 😉
  6. Swimming with otters is the best damn pastime on earth and there is no doubt that one day I need to move further north to a state with green everywhere and bunnies, squirrels and deer roaming freely in my backyard.
  7. There are few better things you can do to create a happy life than be kind to others.
  8. I love my sister more and more every year. She and I may have had a few tiffs over the last 5 decades, but I don’t know what I would do without her.

Things For Which I’m Thankful:

  1. I am so deeply thankful for the way my mom raised me. I know I’m a mouthy broad, but she raised me to be kind, and not judge people, and always think of what someone may be going through and how that might affect them and their actions before responding in any given way to their behavior. She raised me to be polite, but say what I think in a tactful way (most of the time!). She raised me to have deep faith in God, and I’m so happy for that, as it brings me peace every day of my life…every moment.
  2. I’m thankful that I’m still around to write this post. As many of you know, I’ve been dead, like actually dead dead, more than once. And to be here, happy, mostly healthy, and in such a wonderful place in my life, thrills me to my toes.
  3. I’m thankful for the family I was born into and wouldn’t trade them for the world.
  4. I’m thankful for the wonderful friends I’ve made over the years and feel truly blessed that so many of them are still in my life.
  5. I’m thankful that I have a great job where I get to use my brain (sometimes too much!) to help make little kids have a better education. That helps me sleep better at night knowing that I’m giving a little back to a world that has given me so much.
  6. I’m thankful that I have a “If they don’t like me, they can bite me” attitude. 🙂 It took me a lot of years to get there, but there is nothing better than removing that stress from my life. Total bliss.
  7. I’m thankful I had otter paws in my mouth!!!! 🙂
  8. While my hubby has always been the most kind, generous, loving and thoughtful man, over the last year he’s made it even more clear that he really, truly loves me as I am and wants nothing more than for me to be happy. If that doesn’t make a girl thankful every minute of every day, I don’t know what does.
  9. And last but not least (as this list could go on for 300 items, so I’m trying to keep it short), I’m thankful for my new HEDGEHOG!!!! The hubby got this precious little guy for me for my birthday and I’M IN LOVE!!!!!!

(These pics are screenshots from a video, so they are for shit quality-wise, but he’s too cute not to share!)

Hedgehog and Jodi June 5

Hedgehog and Jodi June 5

Hedgehog and Jodi June 5

Isn’t he precious??!!! I’m in love!!

Well, in closing, thanks for putting up with me for another year. You guys rule and I hope that each of you has a life and a birthday that brings you nothing but joy.

Much love!

On Eulogies and What Really Matters

Setting the Scene: A beautiful Spring day. 72 degrees with white puffy clouds in a crisp blue sky. 100 people standing together, sharing their love for their beloved friend or dearest family. Up to the casket steps the widower. Grief written in his eyes and a hushed tone in his voice, he begins to talk about the love of his life and what he’ll miss most.

The Eulogy: My beautiful wife… I will miss you more than you could ever know.

All of those many, many hours you spent in the gym every week to make sure that I could worship at your 6-pack abs are hours I’m glad you spent away from me and our family because look at the amazing results. Wow. The ripped muscles I could see pressing up against those tight dresses were so worth all the missed dinners and little league games you didn’t attend.

Every time you ate salad with no dressing, it proved to me how much you loved me. Each time you refused to eat birthday cake or passed up even a bite of french fries deepened my adoration of you.

Of course, I can’t forget those slim hips and delightfully petite tush that reminded me so much of how you looked when I first met you in Elementary school. I know that staying the same size you were when you were but a budding adolescent was challenging to say the least, but you did it so well and it made the world such a better place. You brought joy to everyone when they looked at you. They didn’t even have to know you or your mind to be thankful you were in the world.

What I’ll miss most is knowing that you loved me enough to spare yourself every bit of joy that good food, good drink and a lazy Saturday in bed could give us because you knew I needed you to be model-perfect everyday in order to keep our marriage strong and filled with passion.

In Heaven, may you find the gym of your dreams and may God give you a cup of 5 raw eggs every morning because I know how much you loved to start your day with protein. I’ll miss you, my love.

My thoughts: Of course that is an insane pile of shit! Hopefully, no one would really give a eulogy like that because when it all comes down in the end, what truly matters is what shines through. But I wanted to put it out there because I got stuck watching some commercials this week against my will and so many of them focused on: Being thin. Being built from the waist down like a 10-year-old boy. Having giant tits. A tiny waist. Bigger lips. Smaller hips. Being hairless from the neck down, but we have some great hair extensions to sell you to make the hair on your head twice as thick–all other hair is unacceptable. It was just ridiculous!

I’m soooooo sick of the pressure put on women to be “perfect.” First off, we all have a different idea of what perfect is, so let’s say bye bye to that word altogether. Secondly, who ever said that being a Victoria’s Secret model made anyone happy or secure? Men cheat on their model-hot girlfriends all the time. An expression I hate more than just about anything on earth is: “See that beautiful woman over there? Some guy is tired of fucking her.” I can’t tell you how many people I’ve heard use that expression and it makes me wanna punch something. Being beautiful is not the key to happiness, love, security or anything else. It might get you your Starbucks faster, but in the scheme of things…

The truth of it is, most of the beautiful women I’ve known in my life are also the most insecure. When everyone tells you how pretty you are, then it’s easy for your self-worth to tie only to your external beauty. Since we all grow old, how well can someone like that fare as they begin to age? If one’s only perceived value is what they see in the mirror, what happens when what they see is 50 or 60 or 70 years old? Our value should come from everything beneath the façade.

So what if you are 40 pounds or 90 pounds overweight? Who cares if you are 20 pounds underweight? The only reason I’d give a rat’s ass is that I’d be worried about your health. What matters to me is WHO you are, not what you look like. What a shallow bunch of shit. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind a peek at a nice photo of Chris Hemsworth every now and again. I’m not blind. But if I met him and he was a dick? Then I’d never want to meet or see him again. It’s all about the love and joy and fun and support and strength that someone brings to others’ lives. Fuck how pretty their hair is or how nice of an ass they have. When life gets hard and you need someone to help carry you through those dark hours, do you really care if they have a 24 inch waist? Or do you care that they love you enough to endure any hardship that comes your way?

Here is an excerpt from a real eulogy a man spoke for his wife. This is the kind of  love I’d hope to hear at my own funeral. Note he never once talks about missing her 6-pack abs.

I don’t know about anyone of you, but as for me, getting married to my wife was the best thing that every happened to me. She was my best friend, my lover, and my wife. She was the source of all the happiness and all the fun I had in my lifetime.

The best part of each day was waking up to find her by my side and the best part of each night was going to sleep knowing she was laying next to me and the best thing about life was knowing no matter how hard it got, how scary it was, or how poor we were, all I had to do was go home, close the door behind me, and see my wife and the sun would shine and nothing else would seem that important any longer.

I guess what they say about your home being your castle is really true because whenever I got home everything outside my door was no longer of any concern. 

I will miss her terribly, but then I will see her in my mother-in-law and sister-in-laws and children and even grandchildren and I will smile knowing that a part of her is still with us.

I am saddened by my loss. She died too soon. “Why did god take her from me?” That is what I asked myself when Kathy passed last Sunday. It took this entire week before I realized that I was looking at it all backwards. That I had taken the wrong perspective to examine what had just occurred.

Try to imagine with me, if you will, that first day when the spark and fire of love was first felt by me. I went home and thanked the Lord for sending Kathy to me.

Did I ask him to give me 43 years of bliss and happiness? Would I have been so bold and brazen to have said, “Lord I demand 43 years of having a companion to share life with?”

Of course not. I was and always am timid and shy when speaking to our Lord. Do Your will, not mine. Who knew how great His love for me would have been. Who could have expected God to be so caring as to have granted to me such a wonderful life.

I would like to end this now with a simple prayer. If you would all bow your heads.

Heavenly Father, Your servant Kathy has returned to Your side in Heaven. We give You thanks for allowing her to stay with us as long as she did and we know it was time for her to leave us. Please Lord, let her know of our love for her and keep her in eternal peace. Amen

When did SEX lose the SEXY?

Okay, so I like to skip through 95% of the MTV Video Music Awards cause most of it sucks and makes my brain hurt. It makes me long for the days of Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Alice in Chains. Shit, it makes me long for Lionel Richie!

But every once in a rare while something good will pop up on-screen, so while I keep my finger on the Fast Forward button most of the time, I’m occasionally entertained.

In watching a seemingly 29-hour-long show in about 15 minutes, one thing became perfectly clear to me: Sex has lost the Sexy.

For example, Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus spent more time simulating sex and fondling their own muffs than most people have done in the preceding 6 months.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me a sexy girl doing a sexy little dance. Who doesn’t? But “sexy” is the operative word. Not a whorin’-down-by-the-docks-for-crack-money type of dancing. Unless of course it’s actual porn you’re after, then you go on with your bad self.

What I’m talking about is the lead-up…the seduction…what lures you in…

You guys know that I’m all about sexual freedom. I don’t care if you screw a turnip as long as you are enjoying yourself and hurting no one (assuming, of course, that turnips can’t feel your perverted body parts all over them!). 😉

I think part of what makes society all fucked up over sexual things is the inherent vibe that sexual stuff is naughty, and provocative behavior is slutty (especially if you are a chick). I’m all about embracing sexiness in any which way you please.

So, I’m not complaining about the sexuality of it all. I’m complaining because the tease is such a big part of sexy yum yumminess and it seems that the tease has gone the way of the Dodo bird.

I remember when I was in my early 20s watching this video and thinking these girls were the sexiest things on 2 legs.

 

And this song? Yeah, this song is delicious. Click on the chick to listen to it.

 

 

And this one? Yep. I’m in. Even though the lyrics aren’t sex-pot-filled… that slow, dripping beat… good God…  I can totally picture Liv Tyler doing her sexy little stage dance to this song.

 

Now, I’m not saying there isn’t a time and place for raunchiness. I’m no saint! 😉 But I think there is something to be said for the burlesque in the seduction. Does it always have to go straight to gynecology?

Advertising your sex isn’t innovative or cutting edge or scandalous. People have been doing it since literally the very first people walked the earth.

I guess I just find clever sexuality to be sexier. Give my mind time to wander around in lust and mystery, envisioning the next thing to come, rather than shoving it in my face and leaving nothing to my imagination.

Okay, I’m done with my rant. I just want the world to do what JT used to sing about: Bring Sexy Back. 😉