As every woman can attest to, once it gets close to THAT time, you have the tendency to feel incredibly bloated. This bloatedness - no idea if that's a word or not, but I'm using it - led to me wanting to wear some looser clothes to work yesterday. I was running very tight to my morning schedule seeing as I still haven't quite got back in the habit of getting up early to get ready to go into the office, especially when that means getting up at 5:30AM some days and decided that I wanted to be as comfortable as I could be in dress clothes. (I didn't buy jeans at work this month because I didn't know I was going to be in the office, so I still have to wear "business casual attire"... until next Wednesday.) I grabbed a spaghetti strap shirt and put a little no sleeve sweater over top of it and put on some black dress pants that have some cream and light pink pin striping on it with black dress shoes that have about a 1.5" heel on them to where my feet wouldn't hurt. The last time I had these pants on was about 2 weeks ago when I went through all my clothes to see what I could start wearing to the office and they were slightly loose at that time. I had kept them just for these bloated days so they would fit the way they needed to. I think I need to reiterate the fact that I was running out of time to be out of the house yesterday morning.
I thought everything was fine. In fact, I thought I had on a really cute outfit, especially for feeling like crap. But that was not the case... far from it.
My "OH NO!" moment came at my first restroom break yesterday morning. (Yea, I know... second blog with inspiration in the ladies room.) I did my business and came around the corner, washed my hands, turned around and got some paper towels out of the motion sensored dispensers, and faced the very large, floor length mirror as I was drying my hands. And then it hit me...
The "OH NO!" moment.
The spaghetti strap shirt I put on fit me well when I was heavier but I never noticed how much it actually hung away from my body now. The top of the shirt looked fine with the little sweater top over it but the bottom of the shirt looked like it had been stretched all to hell and back. But the pants.... they were the worst. They used to sit on my waist - yes, this means just under my belly button - so that it would make my "woman pouch" look smaller. But not anymore. Now they sat, very loosely I might add, on my hips. Since they were sitting that much lower they were now dragging the ground. I looked down and the bottom of one of the pant legs was completely under my shoe. Pulling the pants back up did nothing to help... they just fell back down. Another "side effect" of the pants sitting lower was how the pants portrayed my butt. Not only did the rear pockets sit lower and make it look like I was one of those guys with their pants below their underwear, but it allowed a massive bunching of loose fabric under my butt. These pants looked absolutely horrible. I actually cringed while looking at myself in the mirror, but at this point, there was nothing at all that I could do about it. I had seriously contemplated heading over to the Goodwill right by work and grabbing some pants and a shirt that actually fit so I wouldn't look like this for the rest of the day. But I wouldn't have been able to make it there, find the clothes, try them on, buy them, and get back to work in 15 minutes - break time - especially with the likelihood of minimized available parking spaces when I would get back. So I had to resign to the fact that I would look like a hobo for the rest of the day.
While walking back to my desk, I started thinking about the dress code and wondering if I was in violation of anything which would cause my new manager to have to send me home to change. After a good mental run down of the company dress code in my head, I determined that I hadn't violated any company rules... just my own rules.
But as many of you know, when I start thinking about something, my mind normally makes some common denominator between what I'm thinking about and some random topic and eventually, my mind ends up somewhere not anywhere close to where it was to start with. Thinking about my own rules led to me thinking about other people's "rules" on how they dress and I remembered a comment made by a fellow co-worker (some of you will know who I am talking about when you read this) who commented one day on some women showing up to work resembling hookers.
I have to admit, I have seen plenty of "hooker look-a-likes" where I work. It's not fashionable... it's not cute... it's not flattering either. It makes me wonder what these women are or are not thinking about when they get dressed in the morning. Do they stand at their closet and say to themselves "Ooh, this makes my boobs pop out a lot" or "Oh, this shows my butt cheeks when I stand up straight, wonder what it shows when I bend over". Do they not understand that they look like they either look like they're asking for it? Do they really think that looks good? I wonder what goes through these womens' heads when they are out at night in a dark parking lot or something... do they get nervous or uneasy knowing they look like that?
The funniest fashion disaster I've seen at work though had to be a girl that always wears stiletto heels. A while back, this girl broke her foot or her ankle or something in that general area and had a cast on her foot with the boot that you can walk on. Alongside that cast on the other foot was STILL a stiletto shoe. So when she walked, you could see her head come up above the cubicle walls then go behind it... then up again and down again... and up again and down again. I guess her fashion statement with that shoe was more important than preserving the well being of the one good foot she had left!
Ultimately, I know people make mistakes and sometimes look just plain goofy. Obviously I've done that. But there's just no excuses for some people and what they perceive to be something that "looks nice".
Friday, July 27, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Terrorist
As I'm sure you all know, Colorado has had a massive attack on its people. Not by government interference or anything like that... this attack was the most simple and basic attack. Someone took lives that was not his to take. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends are no longer going to get to see these people ever again. And if you have read my previous blogs, you should have an idea of my feelings on the matter.
Yes, this man murdered many people and injured many, many more. But to me, this man needs to have a different title. He's not a serial killer (that we know of so far) because he killed them all at once, not over an extended period of time. This man is a TERRORIST. No, he didn't kill people on the same level as Osama Bin Laden, but the same type of planning went into it. This man dressed up in a costume and went to a movie. Personally, I've never been to a midnight showing of a super hero movie, but from what I've been told it's a very common occurrence. So these people had no idea what was about to happen. He blended in perfectly. He waited until the perfect moment in the movie - a shooting scene. People's first reaction was that it was part of the show. This man had planned out every minute... every second.... every step... every move. He know exactly what he was doing and when he was going to do it. He even had explosives set up at his apartment to lure emergency responders there and away from the theater.
If you've read my blog called "Issues", it talks about the death penalty and how I feel it should be used in certain situations. Well... this is one of them. He's going to get a 20-life sentence for each person he murdered anyway. Everyone knows he did it - there's no question about it. There shouldn't be any question as to if he's screwed up in the head either because it's pretty obvious that he is. But this is definitely one of those people that I don't want sitting on death row for 30+ years where my tax money is paying for this guy to have a roof over his head, heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer, three hot meals a day, no job, no bills... no responsibilities. He should be taken somewhere where there is a big hole in the ground with walls that are so tall that he can't climb out and give m-16's to the family members of the people that he murdered and let them open fire. There shouldn't be any lethal injection to where he just goes to sleep and then passes along peacefully. There shouldn't be a gas chamber to where he holds his breath for a little bit and then takes a fatal gasp. There shouldn't be an electric chair. He should feel the same fear that the people in that theater felt. He should feel the pain that the people in the theater felt. He should be able to run around and try to dodge the bullets and find out what it's really like to run for your life.
Maybe this sounds grotesque. Maybe it sounds repulsive. I know not everyone will share my view on it. But honestly, there's not really any way that these families can get any closure. Sending this guy to prison for the rest of his life isn't going to bring these people back. I know killing him won't either, but at least he'll feel what it's like before he dies.
Yes, this man murdered many people and injured many, many more. But to me, this man needs to have a different title. He's not a serial killer (that we know of so far) because he killed them all at once, not over an extended period of time. This man is a TERRORIST. No, he didn't kill people on the same level as Osama Bin Laden, but the same type of planning went into it. This man dressed up in a costume and went to a movie. Personally, I've never been to a midnight showing of a super hero movie, but from what I've been told it's a very common occurrence. So these people had no idea what was about to happen. He blended in perfectly. He waited until the perfect moment in the movie - a shooting scene. People's first reaction was that it was part of the show. This man had planned out every minute... every second.... every step... every move. He know exactly what he was doing and when he was going to do it. He even had explosives set up at his apartment to lure emergency responders there and away from the theater.
If you've read my blog called "Issues", it talks about the death penalty and how I feel it should be used in certain situations. Well... this is one of them. He's going to get a 20-life sentence for each person he murdered anyway. Everyone knows he did it - there's no question about it. There shouldn't be any question as to if he's screwed up in the head either because it's pretty obvious that he is. But this is definitely one of those people that I don't want sitting on death row for 30+ years where my tax money is paying for this guy to have a roof over his head, heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer, three hot meals a day, no job, no bills... no responsibilities. He should be taken somewhere where there is a big hole in the ground with walls that are so tall that he can't climb out and give m-16's to the family members of the people that he murdered and let them open fire. There shouldn't be any lethal injection to where he just goes to sleep and then passes along peacefully. There shouldn't be a gas chamber to where he holds his breath for a little bit and then takes a fatal gasp. There shouldn't be an electric chair. He should feel the same fear that the people in that theater felt. He should feel the pain that the people in the theater felt. He should be able to run around and try to dodge the bullets and find out what it's really like to run for your life.
Maybe this sounds grotesque. Maybe it sounds repulsive. I know not everyone will share my view on it. But honestly, there's not really any way that these families can get any closure. Sending this guy to prison for the rest of his life isn't going to bring these people back. I know killing him won't either, but at least he'll feel what it's like before he dies.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Common Courtesy
As many, or all, of you know, I have gone back into the office to start a new position at work. One thing I have to remember is that the place I work at employs well around 1800 people and not everyone shares my feelings on certain topics. One of those is respecting the needs of handicapped people.
What "inspired" this blog was a trip to the restroom today. (Not trying to gross anyone out or anything, but when inspiration comes, it doesn't always come in the most ideal places.) I walked in the restroom and around the corner and headed towards the stalls when the woman in front of me turns to the left and goes into the only handicapped stall in the bathroom. Now, I'm all for having a stall dedicated to handicapped people. More than one would be great seeing as we do have several handicapped people, elderly people, and injured people. But if one stall is all they can manage to fit in there, I guess I'll have to settle for that. But it would be great if everyone else would STAY OUT of this stall if you have no pressing reason to be in there. This woman in front of me was not handicapped. She was not elderly, she was middle aged. She didn't have a broken leg with crutches that won't fit in a normal sized stall. She wasn't any bigger than myself, so it's not like she just couldn't fit into a normal stall. She wasn't even running into the bathroom to show that she just couldn't hold it anymore. She walked into the stall without even given it a second thought. What if one of the people that this stall is dedicated to came in there and had to go?? Are people REALLY that thoughtless and self centered that they have to make sure they get the biggest stall?? That toilet flushes just the same as the others. Yes, there is more room in there, but it's there for a reason! Imagine someone with a walker or with crutches trying to get into a normal sized stall? What about someone with a wheelchair?? How in the world are they going to get into a normal stall? What happens when someone is in that stall when they shouldn't be and they're taking forever and someone that really needs it can't hold it anymore? Is that person going to help the handicapped person clean it up?! I don't think so.
The same applies to handicapped parking spaces. I can't say that I don't like parking close to an entrance. In fact, I've been known to circle the parking lot until a car up close pulls out. Yes, I can be THAT lazy at times. But that doesn't mean I'm going to take a handicapped spot because I don't feel like walking any further. At work, we really don't have to worry about that. We have a pretty vigilant security team. (Maybe we should get a security officer in the bathroom?! I think I just found my next suggestion for the office!!) But it happens at stores a lot. People who aren't even close to needing a handicapped sticker seems to have one... and they USE it. Granted there's a lot more handicapped spaces at stores than there are designated restroom stalls, but it's the principle of it. If you aren't handicapped, leave the things that are meant for those people ALONE. It's called common courtesy.
But as long as we're on the topic of using things that belong to other people, we can touch on welfare. I understand that there are some people out there that truly need government assistance. Like if you're a single mother with three children and not getting any child support while having a full time minimum wage job. Even if that person has TWO full time minimum wage jobs and sacrifices any time at all with her kids, she's still going to fall below the poverty thresh hold more than likely. But in that example, the woman has a job. She's trying to make a living and to support her children. What really gets me is when people that are fully capable of getting a job and just don't. Why? Because they are able to live off of everyone else's tax money. Because they're lazy and have zero motivation and no drive to better themselves. Everyone is always looking for the easy way out and people that take advantage of welfare, in my opinion, are the epitome of that stereotype. The welfare system was not created or designed to support people... it was created to give people ASSISTANCE. And how in the world people can be at the store handing over food stamps out of a Gucci purse is completely beyond me. I honestly wonder if people like that take these expensive items with them or wear the expensive clothes when they go to the welfare office.
"I'm not saying let's kill all the idiots. I'm just saying let's remove all the warning labels and let it take care of itself."
What "inspired" this blog was a trip to the restroom today. (Not trying to gross anyone out or anything, but when inspiration comes, it doesn't always come in the most ideal places.) I walked in the restroom and around the corner and headed towards the stalls when the woman in front of me turns to the left and goes into the only handicapped stall in the bathroom. Now, I'm all for having a stall dedicated to handicapped people. More than one would be great seeing as we do have several handicapped people, elderly people, and injured people. But if one stall is all they can manage to fit in there, I guess I'll have to settle for that. But it would be great if everyone else would STAY OUT of this stall if you have no pressing reason to be in there. This woman in front of me was not handicapped. She was not elderly, she was middle aged. She didn't have a broken leg with crutches that won't fit in a normal sized stall. She wasn't any bigger than myself, so it's not like she just couldn't fit into a normal stall. She wasn't even running into the bathroom to show that she just couldn't hold it anymore. She walked into the stall without even given it a second thought. What if one of the people that this stall is dedicated to came in there and had to go?? Are people REALLY that thoughtless and self centered that they have to make sure they get the biggest stall?? That toilet flushes just the same as the others. Yes, there is more room in there, but it's there for a reason! Imagine someone with a walker or with crutches trying to get into a normal sized stall? What about someone with a wheelchair?? How in the world are they going to get into a normal stall? What happens when someone is in that stall when they shouldn't be and they're taking forever and someone that really needs it can't hold it anymore? Is that person going to help the handicapped person clean it up?! I don't think so.
The same applies to handicapped parking spaces. I can't say that I don't like parking close to an entrance. In fact, I've been known to circle the parking lot until a car up close pulls out. Yes, I can be THAT lazy at times. But that doesn't mean I'm going to take a handicapped spot because I don't feel like walking any further. At work, we really don't have to worry about that. We have a pretty vigilant security team. (Maybe we should get a security officer in the bathroom?! I think I just found my next suggestion for the office!!) But it happens at stores a lot. People who aren't even close to needing a handicapped sticker seems to have one... and they USE it. Granted there's a lot more handicapped spaces at stores than there are designated restroom stalls, but it's the principle of it. If you aren't handicapped, leave the things that are meant for those people ALONE. It's called common courtesy.
But as long as we're on the topic of using things that belong to other people, we can touch on welfare. I understand that there are some people out there that truly need government assistance. Like if you're a single mother with three children and not getting any child support while having a full time minimum wage job. Even if that person has TWO full time minimum wage jobs and sacrifices any time at all with her kids, she's still going to fall below the poverty thresh hold more than likely. But in that example, the woman has a job. She's trying to make a living and to support her children. What really gets me is when people that are fully capable of getting a job and just don't. Why? Because they are able to live off of everyone else's tax money. Because they're lazy and have zero motivation and no drive to better themselves. Everyone is always looking for the easy way out and people that take advantage of welfare, in my opinion, are the epitome of that stereotype. The welfare system was not created or designed to support people... it was created to give people ASSISTANCE. And how in the world people can be at the store handing over food stamps out of a Gucci purse is completely beyond me. I honestly wonder if people like that take these expensive items with them or wear the expensive clothes when they go to the welfare office.
"I'm not saying let's kill all the idiots. I'm just saying let's remove all the warning labels and let it take care of itself."
Monday, July 16, 2012
Moochers, part 2
DISCLAIMER: Lots of cursing.
So, apparently my last blog didn't sit well with someone.
The last text I had gotten from this person before my last blog was posted was on June 15, 2012 at 8:16AM and said, "I'll make my own decisions like you did growing up. You haven't been here for 7 years no need to start being big sis now." This was his final comment in a conversation where I was telling him that he needed to quit taking pictures of homes where he works at (his latest job is being a landscaper) and then posting them on social media sites and how he could get into some major trouble with his boss because of it if one of these clients found out and decided to pursue the matter legally. So since he didn't see that as a helpful piece of advice, he told me he was tired of my "shit" and that I needed to quit being a bitch.
Um, well... sorry if looking out for someone now is defined as "being a bitch".
So, obviously, talking to this guy does absolutely no good, especially when he thinks he knows everything. I'll admit, I had that attitude at one point... and still do sometimes. But all that attitude did was get me into a world of trouble. I've already wrote a blog about my life and things that has happened in it... that's not all by far, but I'm sure when reading it, you can see some of that attitude in there.
But seriously... this is MY blog and I will write in it what I feel like writing at the time. If I feel like ranting in it, then I'm going to do it. If I feel like being mushy in it, then I'm going to do it. If I feel like getting political, then I'm going to do it. This is an outlet for ME. Writing is a part of me and has been for a very long time... ever since I was little. Writing calms me. Writing helps me put things into perspective. Writing is very liberating for me, especially when I am writing about something that I feel very strongly about. Yes, I love to have feedback on it and it's an incredible feeling when someone tells me they like what I've written. But it's also a way for me to get my feelings down so they don't completely overwhelm me. So it's very simple... if you don't like what I write, then don't read my blog.
That being said, I had the following voicemail when I left work today:
"Hey Sam. I really liked your blog about me. Uh, before you make one of those, you may want to get your shit straight. Uh, first of all, the cars were not handed to me. My first car, I paid for everything for it. I paid for the motor transplant and I paid for the transmission and everything I did to that fuckin car. And yes, this car I've had to talk to Grandma about it and everything I've put on it I've paid with my own damn money. All the gas, I pay with my damn money. I don't go around moochin for fuckin gas money. Alright? I haven't done that for over a year and a half now. Alright? And second of all, um, about me holding a job, I keep trying to better myself. Sorry I lost a good job at the jail and I couldn't keep that, but I'm still trying to fuckin better myself. And about college, you fuckin dropped out so you have no room to talk. Alright? And you want go on saying that I got to get off my lazy ass and go fix something to eat. I cook dinner every now and then, alright? When you lived at home, you didn't cook dinner every fucking night. And you wanna say I don't pay rent. Alright? I do pay fucking rent. You don't live here, you don't know what goes on around here, you don't even live in West Virginia so the stories that you are getting or the stories that you supposedly see are not fucking true. And you can stop stalking my twitter. Stop stalking my facebook and act like a fuckin sister to me and not being a straight up bitch. Alright? If you feel like you need to call me back, go ahead, you have my fucking number."
That voicemail is verbatim. I listened to that thing about a hundred times to make sure I take his advice and "get my shit straight" and write it down exactly how it was said this way there is no confusion. (I think I was pretty straight forward in my last blog, so there's no reason for me to debate his voicemail. If anyone would like one of his comments cleared up, feel free to ask.) So after this voicemail, I texted this person and said "If you don't like what I write, then don't read it. Plain and simple. Sometimes the truth hurts." The conversation went from there to him telling me how I need to be writing the truth and then refused to tell me exactly what I needed to correct. Then came the phone call. I'm proud to say that I didn't yell at him. I raised my voice from time to time, but I didn't yell. I especially didn't scream the way he did. He did mention that he is "planning" on moving out in 2 months and going to Huntington - the city that his new girlfriend is going to be going to college to. But in the meantime, he's applying for yet another job? Not sure how much of that I can believe. Anyway, the call ended by him screaming something at me because I told him he wasn't working at the jail for much more than 2-3 months and he felt compelled to correct me because he had worked there for 5 months. He said something to the effect of how I need to go back to college so I can learn how to count and then hung up. After the call ended, I sent the following text message, "Oh, so you think you're all big and bad now because you hung up first and tried to get the last dig in. That's fine. Just proves your immaturity level." To which I got the following response, "Fuck you. You're dumb and don't know what the hell you're talking about. Do yourself a favor and worry about yourself and not me and don't bother talking to me again."
So again, I'm going to take his advice. I am "worrying about myself" and getting the stress he has caused me and getting it all out by writing it down. Too bad if he doesn't like the content.
So, apparently my last blog didn't sit well with someone.
The last text I had gotten from this person before my last blog was posted was on June 15, 2012 at 8:16AM and said, "I'll make my own decisions like you did growing up. You haven't been here for 7 years no need to start being big sis now." This was his final comment in a conversation where I was telling him that he needed to quit taking pictures of homes where he works at (his latest job is being a landscaper) and then posting them on social media sites and how he could get into some major trouble with his boss because of it if one of these clients found out and decided to pursue the matter legally. So since he didn't see that as a helpful piece of advice, he told me he was tired of my "shit" and that I needed to quit being a bitch.
Um, well... sorry if looking out for someone now is defined as "being a bitch".
So, obviously, talking to this guy does absolutely no good, especially when he thinks he knows everything. I'll admit, I had that attitude at one point... and still do sometimes. But all that attitude did was get me into a world of trouble. I've already wrote a blog about my life and things that has happened in it... that's not all by far, but I'm sure when reading it, you can see some of that attitude in there.
But seriously... this is MY blog and I will write in it what I feel like writing at the time. If I feel like ranting in it, then I'm going to do it. If I feel like being mushy in it, then I'm going to do it. If I feel like getting political, then I'm going to do it. This is an outlet for ME. Writing is a part of me and has been for a very long time... ever since I was little. Writing calms me. Writing helps me put things into perspective. Writing is very liberating for me, especially when I am writing about something that I feel very strongly about. Yes, I love to have feedback on it and it's an incredible feeling when someone tells me they like what I've written. But it's also a way for me to get my feelings down so they don't completely overwhelm me. So it's very simple... if you don't like what I write, then don't read my blog.
That being said, I had the following voicemail when I left work today:
"Hey Sam. I really liked your blog about me. Uh, before you make one of those, you may want to get your shit straight. Uh, first of all, the cars were not handed to me. My first car, I paid for everything for it. I paid for the motor transplant and I paid for the transmission and everything I did to that fuckin car. And yes, this car I've had to talk to Grandma about it and everything I've put on it I've paid with my own damn money. All the gas, I pay with my damn money. I don't go around moochin for fuckin gas money. Alright? I haven't done that for over a year and a half now. Alright? And second of all, um, about me holding a job, I keep trying to better myself. Sorry I lost a good job at the jail and I couldn't keep that, but I'm still trying to fuckin better myself. And about college, you fuckin dropped out so you have no room to talk. Alright? And you want go on saying that I got to get off my lazy ass and go fix something to eat. I cook dinner every now and then, alright? When you lived at home, you didn't cook dinner every fucking night. And you wanna say I don't pay rent. Alright? I do pay fucking rent. You don't live here, you don't know what goes on around here, you don't even live in West Virginia so the stories that you are getting or the stories that you supposedly see are not fucking true. And you can stop stalking my twitter. Stop stalking my facebook and act like a fuckin sister to me and not being a straight up bitch. Alright? If you feel like you need to call me back, go ahead, you have my fucking number."
That voicemail is verbatim. I listened to that thing about a hundred times to make sure I take his advice and "get my shit straight" and write it down exactly how it was said this way there is no confusion. (I think I was pretty straight forward in my last blog, so there's no reason for me to debate his voicemail. If anyone would like one of his comments cleared up, feel free to ask.) So after this voicemail, I texted this person and said "If you don't like what I write, then don't read it. Plain and simple. Sometimes the truth hurts." The conversation went from there to him telling me how I need to be writing the truth and then refused to tell me exactly what I needed to correct. Then came the phone call. I'm proud to say that I didn't yell at him. I raised my voice from time to time, but I didn't yell. I especially didn't scream the way he did. He did mention that he is "planning" on moving out in 2 months and going to Huntington - the city that his new girlfriend is going to be going to college to. But in the meantime, he's applying for yet another job? Not sure how much of that I can believe. Anyway, the call ended by him screaming something at me because I told him he wasn't working at the jail for much more than 2-3 months and he felt compelled to correct me because he had worked there for 5 months. He said something to the effect of how I need to go back to college so I can learn how to count and then hung up. After the call ended, I sent the following text message, "Oh, so you think you're all big and bad now because you hung up first and tried to get the last dig in. That's fine. Just proves your immaturity level." To which I got the following response, "Fuck you. You're dumb and don't know what the hell you're talking about. Do yourself a favor and worry about yourself and not me and don't bother talking to me again."
So again, I'm going to take his advice. I am "worrying about myself" and getting the stress he has caused me and getting it all out by writing it down. Too bad if he doesn't like the content.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Moochers
This one is dedicated to one of my biggest pet peeves... moochers. We all know one or two or ten of them. Those people that refuse to do for themselves and expect everything in life to be handed to them.
I read a post a few days ago from one of these people with this lifestyle to the effect of "there's no food in this god forsaken house" and it boiled my blood. (This person will remain nameless, but I'm sure several people will know who I'm talking about anyway.) Here's some details:
1. This person is 20 years old and has never attempted to move out of his parents' house.
2. This person does not attend college and has never even sent in an application to get a higher education.
3. This person doesn't seem to be able to hold a job for more than a few months. It's always because it was too hard, or management didn't like him, or some other excuse.
4. This person has had both cars he's had pretty much handed to him and has pretty much torn both of them up. The one he currently has has his grandparents' names on it and refuses to treat the car with any respect. There were terms and conditions that came along with the car which he has completely ignored such has not modifying the car, not racing in the car, and to follow the law with the car. Because he has ignored every limitation set for him, he now hides out from his grandfather.
5. This person only sees or talks to family members when he wants something. He can't be bothered any other time. It really got me mad when those storms came through a couple of weeks ago and his 70 year old grandmother was darn near stuck in her house because of all of the trees down and he "couldn't" find the time to drive 5 minutes and go over to her house to help her clean up.
6. This person refuses to take responsibility for his actions and blames his "rotten life" on literally everyone else. Especially with his recent underage DUI - he blamed the guy that called the cops on him. He eventually lost his job over it since he was working at a jail - another thing that had been handed to him... by his uncle.
7. This person begs and begs for gas money, but has blown his entire check on parts for his car - that didn't need repaired in the first place - he just decides he doesn't like it anymore or wants something different.
8. This person does not learn from his mistakes... at all.
9. Total bills include car payment, car insurance, and cell phone.
Those are just examples. If I kept going, I would be writing for weeks.
Now... by the time I had graduated high school and turned 18 through my entire year of being 20, I had done the following:
1. Moved out of my parents' house. (I did move back in with them for about a month and a half to two months after a bad relationship ended while I was saving money to get another place.)
2. Purchased 2 vehicles ON MY OWN.
3. Rented 2 different apartments.
4. Went to college full time (for most of this time) AND went to work full time at the same time.
5. Held the same job from 18 to right after I had turned 20. Had another job for about 7-8 months until the place closed down. Started another job immediately after and STILL work with this company 3.5 years later.
6. I try to stay in touch with my family as much as possible.
7. I don't have a "rotten life" because I have WORKED for everything that I have so I respect my life.
8. Yes, money is tight, but I also take care of 2 kids and make sure they have everything they need. At this point, NONE of my pants fit me anymore because of the weight loss. I do have capris that fit me, thanks to a friend that is also on a weight loss journey and they were too big for her, so I have not been to the store yet to get me pants that FIT me yet. But as long as the kids need things, then I will put off getting what I need.
9. I had met Brian who would become my husband a few years later.
I don't see how this person can life his life like this and actually think he has it good. I work for what I have and I get a feeling of confidence and accomplishment from it, which I happen to love.
Back to the original post. "There's no food in this god forsaken house." I really wish someone would knock some sense into this kid! Get up off your lazy butt and go get some food! You don't pay rent. You don't pay any bills except your car payment, cell phone, and car insurance. You show ZERO respect to anyone in the house to begin with. GO TO THE STORE AND PUT SOME FOOD IN THE HOUSE! EARN YOUR STAY THERE INSTEAD OF MOOCHING OFF OF EVERYONE ELSE!! QUIT TAKING ADVANTAGE OF EVERYONE AROUND YOU!! QUIT MANIPULATING EVERYONE INTO FEELING SORRY FOR YOU!! YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO YOURSELF!!
But, instead of just placing the blame on this guy entirely, I have to look at his upbringing. He was raised with everything in life handed to him. If he wanted something, he found a way to get it via someone else. So he's always been able to manipulate people's feelings and has very rarely been called on it. Well guess what? I'M CALLING HIM ON IT!
This person and I no longer communicate because of how he acts. Hopefully, he'll grow up and mature some in the near future, but I highly doubt that seeing as his life is working "well" for him at the moment. But, there is going to come a time where something serious happens and he is going to have burnt so many bridges that there is going to be absolutely no one to turn to. And when that happens, he's going to, again, blame everyone else in his "rotten life" when in fact, he should be blaming himself.
I read a post a few days ago from one of these people with this lifestyle to the effect of "there's no food in this god forsaken house" and it boiled my blood. (This person will remain nameless, but I'm sure several people will know who I'm talking about anyway.) Here's some details:
1. This person is 20 years old and has never attempted to move out of his parents' house.
2. This person does not attend college and has never even sent in an application to get a higher education.
3. This person doesn't seem to be able to hold a job for more than a few months. It's always because it was too hard, or management didn't like him, or some other excuse.
4. This person has had both cars he's had pretty much handed to him and has pretty much torn both of them up. The one he currently has has his grandparents' names on it and refuses to treat the car with any respect. There were terms and conditions that came along with the car which he has completely ignored such has not modifying the car, not racing in the car, and to follow the law with the car. Because he has ignored every limitation set for him, he now hides out from his grandfather.
5. This person only sees or talks to family members when he wants something. He can't be bothered any other time. It really got me mad when those storms came through a couple of weeks ago and his 70 year old grandmother was darn near stuck in her house because of all of the trees down and he "couldn't" find the time to drive 5 minutes and go over to her house to help her clean up.
6. This person refuses to take responsibility for his actions and blames his "rotten life" on literally everyone else. Especially with his recent underage DUI - he blamed the guy that called the cops on him. He eventually lost his job over it since he was working at a jail - another thing that had been handed to him... by his uncle.
7. This person begs and begs for gas money, but has blown his entire check on parts for his car - that didn't need repaired in the first place - he just decides he doesn't like it anymore or wants something different.
8. This person does not learn from his mistakes... at all.
9. Total bills include car payment, car insurance, and cell phone.
Those are just examples. If I kept going, I would be writing for weeks.
Now... by the time I had graduated high school and turned 18 through my entire year of being 20, I had done the following:
1. Moved out of my parents' house. (I did move back in with them for about a month and a half to two months after a bad relationship ended while I was saving money to get another place.)
2. Purchased 2 vehicles ON MY OWN.
3. Rented 2 different apartments.
4. Went to college full time (for most of this time) AND went to work full time at the same time.
5. Held the same job from 18 to right after I had turned 20. Had another job for about 7-8 months until the place closed down. Started another job immediately after and STILL work with this company 3.5 years later.
6. I try to stay in touch with my family as much as possible.
7. I don't have a "rotten life" because I have WORKED for everything that I have so I respect my life.
8. Yes, money is tight, but I also take care of 2 kids and make sure they have everything they need. At this point, NONE of my pants fit me anymore because of the weight loss. I do have capris that fit me, thanks to a friend that is also on a weight loss journey and they were too big for her, so I have not been to the store yet to get me pants that FIT me yet. But as long as the kids need things, then I will put off getting what I need.
9. I had met Brian who would become my husband a few years later.
I don't see how this person can life his life like this and actually think he has it good. I work for what I have and I get a feeling of confidence and accomplishment from it, which I happen to love.
Back to the original post. "There's no food in this god forsaken house." I really wish someone would knock some sense into this kid! Get up off your lazy butt and go get some food! You don't pay rent. You don't pay any bills except your car payment, cell phone, and car insurance. You show ZERO respect to anyone in the house to begin with. GO TO THE STORE AND PUT SOME FOOD IN THE HOUSE! EARN YOUR STAY THERE INSTEAD OF MOOCHING OFF OF EVERYONE ELSE!! QUIT TAKING ADVANTAGE OF EVERYONE AROUND YOU!! QUIT MANIPULATING EVERYONE INTO FEELING SORRY FOR YOU!! YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO YOURSELF!!
But, instead of just placing the blame on this guy entirely, I have to look at his upbringing. He was raised with everything in life handed to him. If he wanted something, he found a way to get it via someone else. So he's always been able to manipulate people's feelings and has very rarely been called on it. Well guess what? I'M CALLING HIM ON IT!
This person and I no longer communicate because of how he acts. Hopefully, he'll grow up and mature some in the near future, but I highly doubt that seeing as his life is working "well" for him at the moment. But, there is going to come a time where something serious happens and he is going to have burnt so many bridges that there is going to be absolutely no one to turn to. And when that happens, he's going to, again, blame everyone else in his "rotten life" when in fact, he should be blaming himself.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Craigslist
I was part of a conversation on one of Brian's facebook statuses - "I'm going to kill her." But to understand that, you have to understand the history behind it. I have a habit of finding things on Craigslist that I like and every time we actually go somewhere to buy whatever, it turns into a fiasco.
The first "adventure" we went on was when we got a small four wheeler for the kids. We had found it under the "barter" section of Craigslist. The only issue? It was in Carlisle and it wouldn't fit in any of the vehicles that we had at the time. We ended up borrowing Brian's brother's conversion van (with no a/c) and hooking our trailer up to it. When we got down to the exit on I675 that Fairfield Commons is off of, traffic was crawling. Apparently there was an accident just past the exit so we decided to get off on the exit and try to find a way around. But I read the map wrong and somehow ended up on the on ramp back onto I675 into traffic that was completely stopped. While we were stopped there - for 30 minutes - we realized that the brake lights on the trailer weren't working... and it was about dusk. By the time we were able to get off of the correct exit off of I75, it was completely dark. We knew that we couldn't go any farther without having any brake lights, so we stopped at a WalMart and got some battery operated flashing red lights and some zip ties and attached them to the back of the trailer. I used the map on my phone to get to this person's house from the WalMart we were at and it took us pretty extensively through a neighborhood. We got almost all the way through the neighborhood - almost 10 minutes of going on side streets - we turned onto the next to final road and it was blocked off because there was a train track running through the middle of the road but didn't have any crossing. I checked my map a dozen times and it showed that the road was solid and that it was the way to get there. So we had to backtrack to get out of the neighborhood and find another way around. We finally got there, about an hour late. We decided that we liked the four wheeler, so the guy came over to the van to look at the gun we were trading for it. But... Brian had taken the clip out of it while at the house to see if it had any bullets in it and apparently never put the clip back in it. Thankfully, the guy let us take the four wheeler anyway with the agreement from Brian to meet up the next day to give him the clip. The drive home was uneventful especially compared to the ride down there.
The next "adventure" was when we found the bedroom suite we wanted - it was in Kettering. The people were getting ready to move to Florida - like the next week - and needed it gone ASAP. Unlike the last trip, this one was pretty easy getting down there. That should have been our first clue. Once we got there, the bedroom suit was upstairs. These were very narrow stairs with a VERY tight turn to go down the stairs. (The bed is a platform bed... it's 3 feet off of the ground. I have to use a stool to get into it. Brian on the other hand, can just turn around and sit on it.) So needless to say, it was incredibly difficult to get downstairs. It was also January, 31 2011... the day our massive ice storm started. We were trying to get back before the storm started, but once we realized how hard it would be to get the furniture down the stairs, it didn't look too good. It started sprinkling as we were putting blankets over the furniture and put the tie straps on to hold it all down. By the time we got back to the interstate, the rain had turned to ice. The roads were incredibly slippery since they were getting a good coating of ice on them. Every turn, every tap on the brakes, every acceleration was a nail-biting occasion. That was once incredibly stressful drive back home. Once we got home and backed the trailer into the garage, the blankets had a solid sheet of ice on them. So solid, in fact, that when we took the blankets off of the furniture and put them on the floor, they had retained the shape they were in as if they still had the furniture under them! But before the blankets had frozen solid they had let some ice in at places where it would flap in the wind. So I got dry towels from the house, my hair dryer, and an extension cord and spent the next hour or so melting the ice and drying the furniture off so it wouldn't warp.
After that, we have gotten better at planning our trips to get items so they're not near as eventful. Next was Timothy's bunk bed set. It was his birthday present last year, so I stayed home with the kids while Brian went to go get it. From what he told me, this house was horrible to get into because it was on a main road in Beavercreek. But, hey, it was only $100.00 for the frame, the bed mattress, and the futon mattress. The only down side was these people had smoked in the house, so it aired out in the garage for about 2 weeks before we set it up in Timothy's room. The mattresses got a daily soaking with a bleach mixture and Febreze.
Then, for Thomas's birthday last month, we decided to get him a bunk bed set also since he was in complete awe of his brother's set. The one we found for him has a bed on top and a desk underneath. Seeing as the desk he had was one more move across the room from falling apart, we were essentially killing two birds with one stone. It also came with an over sized chair with a futon mattress that folds out so someone can sleep on it. It will comfortably fit someone with a sleeping bag. It was perfect for him because it would give him more space in his room, give him a new desk, and still have something for a friend to sleep on when he starts having sleepovers. Again, since it was going to be a surprise, Brian went alone to get it. This one was already close to where he works, so he was able to go there and get it on his lunch break. He was pretty hesitant about getting it because of the place I sent him to the time before. But, he called me when he left... apparently this house was in a high end of town. He told me the house was so clean, that he felt bad going in there with his shoes on and in his greasy work clothes. It was a good thing that the woman I had talked to had gotten her husband to take the bed apart the night before because it was all on the second floor. No smoke on this mattress this time! And it was only $250.00 for all of it!
Since we had gotten rid of the bed Thomas had before - which had 6 drawers under it - we needed to get him a new dresser. Again, we found what we wanted on Craigslist. It is a modern dresser with 8 drawers in it, has a huge mirror on top, and also came with a matching nightstand which would be the perfect table to put next to his chair for his clock and a lamp. We had to go to Centerville for this one. But the guy had already moved it down to the living room so we didn't have to go upstairs. Nothing too eventful from this trip. But nothing really eventful happened on that trip.
Not every transaction via Craigslist has been dramatic. We have gotten a car dolly and the trailer we have now from there and nothing eventful really happened at all on either of those.
But... This week, I found a piano on Craigslist that I wanted... it was free other than the cost of gas to get there and back, so I couldn't pass it up. Brian was very adamant about NOT getting this piano, mainly because he didn't feel like driving an hour and a half - one way - to Trenton to get it. But finally, he decided he would go with me to get it. He hooked up the trailer and we took off on our latest adventure. Going down there wasn't bad until we got off the exit we needed. Apparently the most direct road from I75 to Trenton is some back road that's all torn up and just kinda pieced back together. The entire time on this road, Brian and I were both cringing at the thought of bringing this piano back on this road since it was so incredibly bumpy. But that was nothing compared to when we got there. Yes, the piano was in this lady's living room so it SHOULD have been relatively easy to load. But this piano turned out to be the heaviest thing I've ever tried to move in my life. It was hell trying to get this thing out the front door and then trying to get it down 3 steps and then trying to push it up the ramp onto the trailer. We strapped it down to the trailer and headed back. But the problem with that was we couldn't take it through any towns because we didn't want to stop at all the lights with it being as heavy as it was. So we decided to risk it and come back on the bumpy road. But that in itself was horrible because the piano is incredibly top heavy and every time we would hit a bump, it would look like the piano was about to tip over. Every time we turned, it looked like the piano was going to tip over. Once we FINALLY got home, we found that it was actually a Autoplayer Co piano from New York. After some research, we found out that it was made in 1918 from the serial number on it but that it had been modified to not have the player parts in it anymore. I had a place picked out for it in the living room but Brian doesn't want it upstairs - he would prefer that it go in the basement. Uh... no. That thing is too heavy to try to move down a flight of stairs. So, I think I'm going to put it back on Craigslist.
Hince his "I'm going to kill her." status on facebook.
The first "adventure" we went on was when we got a small four wheeler for the kids. We had found it under the "barter" section of Craigslist. The only issue? It was in Carlisle and it wouldn't fit in any of the vehicles that we had at the time. We ended up borrowing Brian's brother's conversion van (with no a/c) and hooking our trailer up to it. When we got down to the exit on I675 that Fairfield Commons is off of, traffic was crawling. Apparently there was an accident just past the exit so we decided to get off on the exit and try to find a way around. But I read the map wrong and somehow ended up on the on ramp back onto I675 into traffic that was completely stopped. While we were stopped there - for 30 minutes - we realized that the brake lights on the trailer weren't working... and it was about dusk. By the time we were able to get off of the correct exit off of I75, it was completely dark. We knew that we couldn't go any farther without having any brake lights, so we stopped at a WalMart and got some battery operated flashing red lights and some zip ties and attached them to the back of the trailer. I used the map on my phone to get to this person's house from the WalMart we were at and it took us pretty extensively through a neighborhood. We got almost all the way through the neighborhood - almost 10 minutes of going on side streets - we turned onto the next to final road and it was blocked off because there was a train track running through the middle of the road but didn't have any crossing. I checked my map a dozen times and it showed that the road was solid and that it was the way to get there. So we had to backtrack to get out of the neighborhood and find another way around. We finally got there, about an hour late. We decided that we liked the four wheeler, so the guy came over to the van to look at the gun we were trading for it. But... Brian had taken the clip out of it while at the house to see if it had any bullets in it and apparently never put the clip back in it. Thankfully, the guy let us take the four wheeler anyway with the agreement from Brian to meet up the next day to give him the clip. The drive home was uneventful especially compared to the ride down there.
The next "adventure" was when we found the bedroom suite we wanted - it was in Kettering. The people were getting ready to move to Florida - like the next week - and needed it gone ASAP. Unlike the last trip, this one was pretty easy getting down there. That should have been our first clue. Once we got there, the bedroom suit was upstairs. These were very narrow stairs with a VERY tight turn to go down the stairs. (The bed is a platform bed... it's 3 feet off of the ground. I have to use a stool to get into it. Brian on the other hand, can just turn around and sit on it.) So needless to say, it was incredibly difficult to get downstairs. It was also January, 31 2011... the day our massive ice storm started. We were trying to get back before the storm started, but once we realized how hard it would be to get the furniture down the stairs, it didn't look too good. It started sprinkling as we were putting blankets over the furniture and put the tie straps on to hold it all down. By the time we got back to the interstate, the rain had turned to ice. The roads were incredibly slippery since they were getting a good coating of ice on them. Every turn, every tap on the brakes, every acceleration was a nail-biting occasion. That was once incredibly stressful drive back home. Once we got home and backed the trailer into the garage, the blankets had a solid sheet of ice on them. So solid, in fact, that when we took the blankets off of the furniture and put them on the floor, they had retained the shape they were in as if they still had the furniture under them! But before the blankets had frozen solid they had let some ice in at places where it would flap in the wind. So I got dry towels from the house, my hair dryer, and an extension cord and spent the next hour or so melting the ice and drying the furniture off so it wouldn't warp.
After that, we have gotten better at planning our trips to get items so they're not near as eventful. Next was Timothy's bunk bed set. It was his birthday present last year, so I stayed home with the kids while Brian went to go get it. From what he told me, this house was horrible to get into because it was on a main road in Beavercreek. But, hey, it was only $100.00 for the frame, the bed mattress, and the futon mattress. The only down side was these people had smoked in the house, so it aired out in the garage for about 2 weeks before we set it up in Timothy's room. The mattresses got a daily soaking with a bleach mixture and Febreze.
Then, for Thomas's birthday last month, we decided to get him a bunk bed set also since he was in complete awe of his brother's set. The one we found for him has a bed on top and a desk underneath. Seeing as the desk he had was one more move across the room from falling apart, we were essentially killing two birds with one stone. It also came with an over sized chair with a futon mattress that folds out so someone can sleep on it. It will comfortably fit someone with a sleeping bag. It was perfect for him because it would give him more space in his room, give him a new desk, and still have something for a friend to sleep on when he starts having sleepovers. Again, since it was going to be a surprise, Brian went alone to get it. This one was already close to where he works, so he was able to go there and get it on his lunch break. He was pretty hesitant about getting it because of the place I sent him to the time before. But, he called me when he left... apparently this house was in a high end of town. He told me the house was so clean, that he felt bad going in there with his shoes on and in his greasy work clothes. It was a good thing that the woman I had talked to had gotten her husband to take the bed apart the night before because it was all on the second floor. No smoke on this mattress this time! And it was only $250.00 for all of it!
Since we had gotten rid of the bed Thomas had before - which had 6 drawers under it - we needed to get him a new dresser. Again, we found what we wanted on Craigslist. It is a modern dresser with 8 drawers in it, has a huge mirror on top, and also came with a matching nightstand which would be the perfect table to put next to his chair for his clock and a lamp. We had to go to Centerville for this one. But the guy had already moved it down to the living room so we didn't have to go upstairs. Nothing too eventful from this trip. But nothing really eventful happened on that trip.
Not every transaction via Craigslist has been dramatic. We have gotten a car dolly and the trailer we have now from there and nothing eventful really happened at all on either of those.
But... This week, I found a piano on Craigslist that I wanted... it was free other than the cost of gas to get there and back, so I couldn't pass it up. Brian was very adamant about NOT getting this piano, mainly because he didn't feel like driving an hour and a half - one way - to Trenton to get it. But finally, he decided he would go with me to get it. He hooked up the trailer and we took off on our latest adventure. Going down there wasn't bad until we got off the exit we needed. Apparently the most direct road from I75 to Trenton is some back road that's all torn up and just kinda pieced back together. The entire time on this road, Brian and I were both cringing at the thought of bringing this piano back on this road since it was so incredibly bumpy. But that was nothing compared to when we got there. Yes, the piano was in this lady's living room so it SHOULD have been relatively easy to load. But this piano turned out to be the heaviest thing I've ever tried to move in my life. It was hell trying to get this thing out the front door and then trying to get it down 3 steps and then trying to push it up the ramp onto the trailer. We strapped it down to the trailer and headed back. But the problem with that was we couldn't take it through any towns because we didn't want to stop at all the lights with it being as heavy as it was. So we decided to risk it and come back on the bumpy road. But that in itself was horrible because the piano is incredibly top heavy and every time we would hit a bump, it would look like the piano was about to tip over. Every time we turned, it looked like the piano was going to tip over. Once we FINALLY got home, we found that it was actually a Autoplayer Co piano from New York. After some research, we found out that it was made in 1918 from the serial number on it but that it had been modified to not have the player parts in it anymore. I had a place picked out for it in the living room but Brian doesn't want it upstairs - he would prefer that it go in the basement. Uh... no. That thing is too heavy to try to move down a flight of stairs. So, I think I'm going to put it back on Craigslist.
Hince his "I'm going to kill her." status on facebook.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Issues
Note: With all of the political crap going on lately, I figured today's topic would be more of my opinions :) Please remember, I know not everyone will agree with me, but these are my views and my opinions. And again, I apologize if any content offends anyone.
Abortions:
I believe abortions should be available but only for certain situations - rape, incest, if the baby is going to be stillborn, if the baby will not be able to sustain life on it's own once born, and if the mother's life is in danger. (And by "in danger", I don't mean the "OMG, my life is ruined" kind of danger or the "OMG this baby isn't his" kind of danger or the "OMG I can't afford a baby" kind of danger. I mean the "This woman isn't going to survive if something isn't done now" kind of danger.) There are way too many options out there for pregnant women that for whatever reason cannot keep their baby - adoption being the number one option. It kills me that there are women out there, like myself, that has been trying to get pregnant (not trying to the extreme, but not taking any precautions anymore) and has not been successful but some women that are lucky enough to have such an incredible gift given to them just throw it away... literally.
California's proposed multi parent law:
(If you're not familiar with this, California has proposed a law that will allow more than 2 people to be legally responsible parents for a child / children. They use the example of kids that one biological parent has passed or is unable to be located and then the living or present biological parent gets incarcerated. As of now, children in that situation either go and stay with a stepparent or stay with a family member - none of which have really any legal rights at all so it's very difficult to make medical decisions, etc. - or they go to foster care. With this new law, the stepparent or whomever else the child / children stay with would have legal rights over the child.)
I think it's a good idea for the most part. Being a step parent myself, I can attest to how little we can actually do. I can fill out paperwork for the boys for school, doctor's offices, etc. but I can't sign them. I can take them to the doctor, but I can't authorize immunizations or treatments if it's needed immediately. I can fill out their papers to sign up for sports, but I can't sign them. I can help out with classroom stuff, but I can't go to parent/teacher conferences without Brian being with me. Even when Timothy had surgery on his eye last December and I called the hospital to get on a payment plan, I had to have Brian call them first for them to get his permission so they could take my card information. So I know how hard it is to not be able to just get things done that need to be done.
Building an Islam temple near the World Trade Center site:
I have a couple of views on this one. One, I understand that some people have issues with the Islam community, but people came to this country to be FREE. To be able to live as they wanted and to worship as they wanted without persecution. So no one should feel they are able to tell anyone where or how or when they can worship. Second, just because the murderers that attacked our country were using their Islamic religion as an excuse does not mean that everyone who is Islamic will do the same thing. These men were brainwashed by a maniac... I believe all terrorists are. I don't think any of them deep down believe what they do is right... they just put their faith in the wrong person. Just like the Nazis did with Hitler. All it took was ONE psychopath with the ability to sell their ideas. So don't hate an entire religion because of one idiot.
Gay Marriage:
I've touched on this one in another blog already. Bottom line, gays and lesbians are still people too. They bleed red just like everyone else. If they love their same sex partner with the same emotions as I love my husband, then I see no reason as to why they can't get married. I'm sure the people who are against it wouldn't appreciate someone else telling them how to live their lives, so they have no right to tell anyone else how to live theirs either.
The Death Penalty:
I believe that everyone has the right to a fair trial and that they are innocent until proven guilty. I don't have a problem with that. What I have a problem with is how long they sit on death row with our tax dollars paying for them to have a roof over their head and three hot meals every day. There is no reason someone that has been sentenced to death should sit there for 30+ years waiting for execution and then file an appeal a week before their scheduled execution. I can think of a lot more productive things that my tax dollars could be spent on rather than letting someone on death row get by without having to worry about work, mortgage, poverty, taxes... they don't have any of the responsibilities than the rest of us do.
I also believe that certain crimes deserve the death penalty automatically. Rape is one of them. Once someone is raped, that person is scarred for life. There is no coming back from it. Yes, precautions need to be taken so that innocent people are not charged and convicted for a crime they did not commit, but that's true with ANY case. Child Molesters also need to get the death penalty. It's been proven that these kind of people cannot be rehabilitated. Once they do it one time, they'll do it again. Once is one time too many. So I think they need to be stopped before they do it again. I also believe first degree murderers should get the death penalty too. People like that are pure evil and if they think they can kill someone in cold blood, then they're going to do it again.
Guns:
This is one of the topics that Brian and I disagree on. I don't like guns. Never have. In all honesty, I'm afraid of them and would prefer if they just disappeared all together. I understand that guns aren't what kill people... it's the people operating the guns that do. Regardless, I would prefer if guns were to just go away.
This is where I'm going to limit myself for tonight... I want to save some for another blog. Included in the next issues I will address will be "Obamacare". Tune in next time!!
Abortions:
I believe abortions should be available but only for certain situations - rape, incest, if the baby is going to be stillborn, if the baby will not be able to sustain life on it's own once born, and if the mother's life is in danger. (And by "in danger", I don't mean the "OMG, my life is ruined" kind of danger or the "OMG this baby isn't his" kind of danger or the "OMG I can't afford a baby" kind of danger. I mean the "This woman isn't going to survive if something isn't done now" kind of danger.) There are way too many options out there for pregnant women that for whatever reason cannot keep their baby - adoption being the number one option. It kills me that there are women out there, like myself, that has been trying to get pregnant (not trying to the extreme, but not taking any precautions anymore) and has not been successful but some women that are lucky enough to have such an incredible gift given to them just throw it away... literally.
California's proposed multi parent law:
(If you're not familiar with this, California has proposed a law that will allow more than 2 people to be legally responsible parents for a child / children. They use the example of kids that one biological parent has passed or is unable to be located and then the living or present biological parent gets incarcerated. As of now, children in that situation either go and stay with a stepparent or stay with a family member - none of which have really any legal rights at all so it's very difficult to make medical decisions, etc. - or they go to foster care. With this new law, the stepparent or whomever else the child / children stay with would have legal rights over the child.)
I think it's a good idea for the most part. Being a step parent myself, I can attest to how little we can actually do. I can fill out paperwork for the boys for school, doctor's offices, etc. but I can't sign them. I can take them to the doctor, but I can't authorize immunizations or treatments if it's needed immediately. I can fill out their papers to sign up for sports, but I can't sign them. I can help out with classroom stuff, but I can't go to parent/teacher conferences without Brian being with me. Even when Timothy had surgery on his eye last December and I called the hospital to get on a payment plan, I had to have Brian call them first for them to get his permission so they could take my card information. So I know how hard it is to not be able to just get things done that need to be done.
Building an Islam temple near the World Trade Center site:
I have a couple of views on this one. One, I understand that some people have issues with the Islam community, but people came to this country to be FREE. To be able to live as they wanted and to worship as they wanted without persecution. So no one should feel they are able to tell anyone where or how or when they can worship. Second, just because the murderers that attacked our country were using their Islamic religion as an excuse does not mean that everyone who is Islamic will do the same thing. These men were brainwashed by a maniac... I believe all terrorists are. I don't think any of them deep down believe what they do is right... they just put their faith in the wrong person. Just like the Nazis did with Hitler. All it took was ONE psychopath with the ability to sell their ideas. So don't hate an entire religion because of one idiot.
Gay Marriage:
I've touched on this one in another blog already. Bottom line, gays and lesbians are still people too. They bleed red just like everyone else. If they love their same sex partner with the same emotions as I love my husband, then I see no reason as to why they can't get married. I'm sure the people who are against it wouldn't appreciate someone else telling them how to live their lives, so they have no right to tell anyone else how to live theirs either.
The Death Penalty:
I believe that everyone has the right to a fair trial and that they are innocent until proven guilty. I don't have a problem with that. What I have a problem with is how long they sit on death row with our tax dollars paying for them to have a roof over their head and three hot meals every day. There is no reason someone that has been sentenced to death should sit there for 30+ years waiting for execution and then file an appeal a week before their scheduled execution. I can think of a lot more productive things that my tax dollars could be spent on rather than letting someone on death row get by without having to worry about work, mortgage, poverty, taxes... they don't have any of the responsibilities than the rest of us do.
I also believe that certain crimes deserve the death penalty automatically. Rape is one of them. Once someone is raped, that person is scarred for life. There is no coming back from it. Yes, precautions need to be taken so that innocent people are not charged and convicted for a crime they did not commit, but that's true with ANY case. Child Molesters also need to get the death penalty. It's been proven that these kind of people cannot be rehabilitated. Once they do it one time, they'll do it again. Once is one time too many. So I think they need to be stopped before they do it again. I also believe first degree murderers should get the death penalty too. People like that are pure evil and if they think they can kill someone in cold blood, then they're going to do it again.
Guns:
This is one of the topics that Brian and I disagree on. I don't like guns. Never have. In all honesty, I'm afraid of them and would prefer if they just disappeared all together. I understand that guns aren't what kill people... it's the people operating the guns that do. Regardless, I would prefer if guns were to just go away.
This is where I'm going to limit myself for tonight... I want to save some for another blog. Included in the next issues I will address will be "Obamacare". Tune in next time!!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Proposal
As some or all of you know, I've been on a weight loss journey lately. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. As a result, my rings aren't staying where they're supposed to... some fall off randomly and all but one falls off when my hands get wet. I know I'm going to have to get them sized soon, but I don't want to get them sized too many times. I also don't want to be without my wedding rings (mushy, I know). Every time I mess with those rings though, I think about how Brian proposed. I know everyone is partial to their own proposal story when it happens, but I can darn near guarantee that no one has had a proposal like I did...
Brian had gotten a call from the Kay Jewelers associate that we had talked to a couple of times around September/ October 2009 and invited him to their one day a year mega sale on solitaire diamonds. He had to work on that day, but he called me and told me to "go look and see if there is anything I like". (What guy tells a girl to do that and NOT expect her to find something??) When I got there, she was waiting on me with a ring on her finger. I had told her not too long before that what kind of diamond I liked and had tried a few on so she grabbed one she thought I would like and since she wasn't allowed to put it to the side because of the sale, she put it on her finger so no one would notice. Everything about it was perfect except it was in a white gold setting and I wanted a yellow gold setting. Of course I loved it, especially when she told me they could take the diamond and put it in a yellow gold setting. I told her I would get Brian to come down and look at it after he got off of work and I went home to wait on him.
It seemed like it took forever for him to get home, but he eventually did and we headed back to the mall. We got to the store and she showed him the ring... I even put it on. I didn't leave the store with it. Brian wanted to think about it. His way of thinking about it was walking up and down the length of the mall... so we did. A couple of times. I decided that if he was taking that long then he wasn't going to do it. I told the boys to come with me and we started walking back to the car. But Brian wasn't walking with us... he had started walking back to the store, so the boys and I followed. The terms of the purchase were that I didn't get it right then, I couldn't see it after it was put in a gold setting, and that I wouldn't know when I was going to get it. Agreed!
Fast forward a couple months to Thanksgiving 2009. We had eaten a nice breakfast with the kids before they left for a few hours to go with their mother and started cooking - My parents and two brothers were coming over for an early dinner. Before everyone got here, I went into the master bathroom and found Brian changing into dress pants and a dress shirt. I asked him why he was getting changed and he told me that since it was a holiday and my family was coming over, he wanted to look nice. That should have been clue number one. But he does tend to dress up from time to time (like on our first date... he dressed up more than I did!), so I didn't think anything of it. I told him that no one else would be dressed up and would most likely be in sweats so that they weren't so miserable after eating so much. So after some persuading, he finally agreed to it. Everyone got here and it was a mad house. Mom had brought her camera out and was taking pictures. That should have been clue number two, but she ALWAYS carried her camera so I, again, didn't think anything of it.
After we ate, I was trying to get the kitchen at least partially cleaned while everyone else was in the living room talking until one of my brothers came in the kitchen and told me the toilet paper in the bathroom was out. I started walking to the master bathroom to get him some more, but I got distracted. As I came into the living room and was walking in front of the couch, Brian suddenly came off the corner of the couch and...
TACKLED ME!!!
I ended up on the floor with the middle of my spine landing right on top of his hand which was clenched into a fist sending my back into immediate pain. So I did what anyone would do... I rolled over onto my side facing away from him, put my hand on my back, and began asking him what the hell was wrong with him! I sat up and prepared to get up to go get the toilet paper, turned to him to give him a glare, and there he was... already sitting up with the box in his hand. Before I realized what was going on, he opened up the box and simply said, "Will you marry me?" It took everything I had to choke out a yes. But the icing on the cake was when we looked outside and it had started to snow :)
It was absolutely perfect <3
Brian had gotten a call from the Kay Jewelers associate that we had talked to a couple of times around September/ October 2009 and invited him to their one day a year mega sale on solitaire diamonds. He had to work on that day, but he called me and told me to "go look and see if there is anything I like". (What guy tells a girl to do that and NOT expect her to find something??) When I got there, she was waiting on me with a ring on her finger. I had told her not too long before that what kind of diamond I liked and had tried a few on so she grabbed one she thought I would like and since she wasn't allowed to put it to the side because of the sale, she put it on her finger so no one would notice. Everything about it was perfect except it was in a white gold setting and I wanted a yellow gold setting. Of course I loved it, especially when she told me they could take the diamond and put it in a yellow gold setting. I told her I would get Brian to come down and look at it after he got off of work and I went home to wait on him.
It seemed like it took forever for him to get home, but he eventually did and we headed back to the mall. We got to the store and she showed him the ring... I even put it on. I didn't leave the store with it. Brian wanted to think about it. His way of thinking about it was walking up and down the length of the mall... so we did. A couple of times. I decided that if he was taking that long then he wasn't going to do it. I told the boys to come with me and we started walking back to the car. But Brian wasn't walking with us... he had started walking back to the store, so the boys and I followed. The terms of the purchase were that I didn't get it right then, I couldn't see it after it was put in a gold setting, and that I wouldn't know when I was going to get it. Agreed!
Fast forward a couple months to Thanksgiving 2009. We had eaten a nice breakfast with the kids before they left for a few hours to go with their mother and started cooking - My parents and two brothers were coming over for an early dinner. Before everyone got here, I went into the master bathroom and found Brian changing into dress pants and a dress shirt. I asked him why he was getting changed and he told me that since it was a holiday and my family was coming over, he wanted to look nice. That should have been clue number one. But he does tend to dress up from time to time (like on our first date... he dressed up more than I did!), so I didn't think anything of it. I told him that no one else would be dressed up and would most likely be in sweats so that they weren't so miserable after eating so much. So after some persuading, he finally agreed to it. Everyone got here and it was a mad house. Mom had brought her camera out and was taking pictures. That should have been clue number two, but she ALWAYS carried her camera so I, again, didn't think anything of it.
After we ate, I was trying to get the kitchen at least partially cleaned while everyone else was in the living room talking until one of my brothers came in the kitchen and told me the toilet paper in the bathroom was out. I started walking to the master bathroom to get him some more, but I got distracted. As I came into the living room and was walking in front of the couch, Brian suddenly came off the corner of the couch and...
TACKLED ME!!!
I ended up on the floor with the middle of my spine landing right on top of his hand which was clenched into a fist sending my back into immediate pain. So I did what anyone would do... I rolled over onto my side facing away from him, put my hand on my back, and began asking him what the hell was wrong with him! I sat up and prepared to get up to go get the toilet paper, turned to him to give him a glare, and there he was... already sitting up with the box in his hand. Before I realized what was going on, he opened up the box and simply said, "Will you marry me?" It took everything I had to choke out a yes. But the icing on the cake was when we looked outside and it had started to snow :)
It was absolutely perfect <3
Monday, July 9, 2012
Old Lies
WARNING: This one is pretty long. And it includes not so nice words.
DISCLAIMER: This blog does not paint a pretty picture for some people in my life. I apologize in advance if this offends anyone. That being said, this is a not-so-great time in my life through MY eyes.
NOTE: I blocked out a lot of time in my head according to my therapist I had several years ago, most likely for the best. But this is what I remember.
Most people don't know that the person I call my mom is actually my stepmom. So when I say something and use the phrase "my real mom", I tend to get funny looks. I have not talked to my real mom since I was 16. There has been one phone call where I called and went off on her and another time when I saw her at a court house since then, but there has not been an actual, meaningful conversation since. But to understand why I have chosen not to have her as a part of my life, I have to tell you things that happened between the ages of six/seven and sixteen.
Here goes....
I was living in Charleston, WV. My dad was a truck driver at the time and had fallen out of the back of his truck one day and had slipped disks in his lower spine. The doctors told him that he wouldn't be able to sit for really long periods of time anymore, so he decided to go back to school so he could change careers. He enrolled in what is now Mountain State University in Beckley, WV. His school was an hour away from where we lived and my mom's job was still in Charleston, so my parents decided to move somewhere that would be a good middle distance from both places. They chose Oak Hill, WV. (First grade.)
We moved and everything was great for a while... at least I thought it was. One day in the middle of winter after it had snowed quite a bit, my mom told my brother and me to get some trash bags and start putting my dad's clothes in it. We did what we were told. Once we had filled them up, she tied them up and threw them out on the front yard. I never did see my dad come and pick them up. (1) My mom told us that our dad had found a new woman that he wanted to live with and that he wouldn't be coming back home. (Second grade... I think?)
As I'm sure you guessed, they had started getting a divorce. Since my mom didn't need to be close to dad's school anymore, we moved into a house that my grandparents own in South Charleston, WV. My mom started acting really weird and losing a lot of weight... really fast. (2) She would tell my brother and me that our dad wasn't paying her any child support, so we couldn't afford much. Money was so tight that there were times where we would eat cereal for breakfast, eat lunch at school, and have cereal for dinner again. We would have Taco Bell a lot too since it was really cheap. (But she was still able to go out and buy new lingerie and red color for her hair??) One day, my brother and I came home from school and found mom on the couch making out with a guy named Jim. I knew she would have to start dating again sometime (didn't think it would be that soon after her divorce) but that doesn't mean I had to like it - or like him. I don't think it lasted long because that was the only time I saw Jim. As far as my dad went, he had a baby with the woman he was living with and married her. I didn't see him very often, sometimes by choice... I couldn't stand the fact that he had a new family. (Fifth/Sixth grade.)
Not too long after that, my mom started talking about some guy she was talking to online named Jeff. She would tell me that he was promising her the world... that they were going to move in together and (3) we were going to have a huge house with a pool. Keep in mind, neither myself or my brother had met this guy yet. A few weeks later, we headed to Virginia to meet Jeff. For whatever reason, my mom thought it would be a good idea to stay down there with him, so we spent about a month in and out of different hotels. Somehow, we ended up in Lexington Park, MD in a two bedroom apartment above a laundromat. (One of the details that I blocked out is how we got all of our stuff to Maryland or what we did with it while we were staying in hotels.) Mom and Jeff got one of the bedrooms and I got the other one. We ended up taking furniture and making "walls" with it to make a "bedroom" for my brother in the dining room area. One day, (4) Jeff had been on the phone with his ex wife and got mad because she wouldn't let him talk to his son and he decided to take it out on my mom. He was screaming at her and she was screaming back. My brother came into my room and hid behind my bed. Jeff started chasing my mom through the apartment and she ran into the bathroom which was across the hall from my room and locked the door. He was pounding on the door and screaming that if she didn't open the door, he was going to bust it down. I had finally had enough. I told my brother to stay where he was and I went into the hallway. I screamed at Jeff. I told him that he was not allowed to talk to my mother like that and he was not allowed to chase her through the house and to leave her the fuck alone - the first time I had ever cussed. He yelled back, telling me I was just a little kid and didn't need to be involved in their argument. So I got his keys and threw them at him and told him to get the fuck out. Eventually he left and cooled down, but I decided at that point, that I did not want to have Jeff around. (5) We stayed in Maryland for 6 weeks because the job that Jeff was supposed to get on an air force base didn't come through. (Sixth grade.)
When we left Maryland we moved back to South Charleston, WV into another two bedroom apartment, this time it was the bottom half of a duplex with the entrance through an alley. Again, Mom and Jeff got one bedroom, I got the other, and again we made a room for my brother out of furniture in the dining room area. One day, Jeff and I were at the post office and we ran into a woman that Jeff knew. They exchanged numbers and Jeff told her that he would call her soon. When we got back to the apartment, my mom and Jeff went into their room and talked for a long time. They finally came out, sat my brother and I down on the couch and told us that the woman at the post office was the mother of his daughter that (6) he didn't know he had. Soon after, Natalie started coming to visit. And not too much longer, we were told that she wanted to move in with us. But having five people in a two bedroom apartment wasn't going to work, so we moved again. Up to this point, I was visiting my dad, but it wasn't very often. Not because we didn't want to, but because (7) he kept cancelling. (Seventh grade.)
This time, we moved to Kanawha City, WV into a 3 bedroom house that we rented. Mom and Jeff got their own room, my brother got his own room, and Natalie and I shared a room. Both of our beds, her furniture and clothes, and my nightstand was in the bedroom while the rest of my furniture was in a walk in closet in the hallway. Not too much happened here, at least that I can remember. We stayed here until the end of mine and Natalie's eighth grade year until (8) mom and Jeff decided that we needed a bigger house. Again, neither my brother or I saw our dad much because of cancellations. (End of 8th grade.)
The next move was back into Charleston, WV. The house was bigger though... we all had our own rooms. My brother even got the biggest room to "make up" for not having a room for a while. Several things happened while I lived here, and the majority of them were major things that changed a lot of things in my life. This is where I get into some really private things but I feel I need to get them out.
One thing that happened came via phone. My dad called one day and told me that him and my stepmom had separated and he was getting another place. He gave me his new address and phone number.
Pivotal moment number two was when I got the mail one day and the (9) sanitation / water bill had my name on it. I asked why and I was told that when you move and turn on utilities in your new house, the utility company needs to know the name of everyone that lives in the house and so it had to be a mix up at the water company.
The last pivotal moment was when I lost my virginity. I was 14 years old. Now, to understand how this was possible at such a young age, you have to understand my home environment. I was allowed to run and do what I wanted (for the most part) and I was allowed to hang out with who I wanted... this included much older guys in my high school. My mother was too involved with Jeff and marrying him was her top priority so taking care of her kids was really put on the back burner. It got to the point where I was taking care of my stepsister and brother most of the time... making sure they had something to eat, had medicine if needed, and that all the laundry was done. They would even come to me and ask me if they could go to the park to shoot hoops sometimes. So when I would leave the house, I didn't really have any restrictions.
I was able to keep it a secret for a few months. But my mom and Jeff eventually found out. They woke me up in the middle of the night and had me come down to the den to talk to them. My mom sat in a chair next to me and Jeff sat behind his desk. He started with (10) "I got a phone call from someone at the health department today saying that someone came in and got tested and it turned out to be positive for syphilis. This person named you (talking to me) as a sexual partner. So I need you to tell me what's been going on." Of course, I denied everything... told him that I didn't know what he was talking about. So when that didn't work, he pulled up pictures on his computer of what syphilis can do to you when it goes untreated. Once I saw those, I got really scared and of course, I fessed up. That week, my mom made me an appointment with our family doctor for my first female exam. When the exam was over, the doctor told my mother that from the exam, he could see that (11) my cervix looked a bit swollen and that I had sex with at least 7 different guys. I flipped out because it wasn't true... I had been with ONE guy. She decided that I needed to go spend the weekend with my dad so he could "beat some sense" into me and after I get back, I would be locked in my room for months.
I went to my dad's that weekend as planned and told him what I had done. But instead of getting a "beating" like I had expected, my dad just held me and comforted me. Apparently my mom found my diary while I was gone (my grandma had gotten me one every year for my birthday for as long as I could remember and I wrote in it faithfully, so of course everything was in there). She popped the lock and read it. She called every 5 - 10 minutes while I was at my dad's house that weekend trying to tell him something else I had done. Eventually he told her he didn't want to know anymore and told her to stop calling. I decided at that point that I wanted to move in with my dad. So I asked him and he told me I could. The time finally came to where I was supposed to go back home so we went to the Paint Creek exit off of I-64 (that was our usual meeting spot since it was about halfway) and waited for my mom and Jeff to get there. When they finally showed up, (12) my dad and stepmom left me in the car while they went and sat in the car with my mom and Jeff to make arrangements. Once they were done, they asked me to come in the car with the four of them and my mom asked me if I wanted to move in with my dad. I told her yes. I was completely ready to go back with mom and Jeff to pack my things and take my books back to school and (13) say goodbye to my friends, but Jeff said that if I wanted to move out, I wasn't welcome back at all. He also said they would go back and pack my things up and my dad was more than welcome to come and get it, but I was not permitted back at the house. I wasn't going to change my mind, so I went back home with my dad and stepmom. A few days later, my mom called my dad and told him that my things were ready to pick up, so he drove the hour there to get it. When he got there, everything of mine - everything of mine that they wanted me to take - was sitting on the front porch. (I don't remember if my mom was actually at the house or not.) There were several things that I didn't get back. I don't remember everything I didn't get back (I used to have a list at one point) but there are two things that I was very upset about not having. I had a ruby and diamond ring that my dad and stepmom had gotten me that I never got and I had a crayon shaped piggy bank that I kept $2 bills, half dollar coins and dollar coins in. My grandma would give me these old bills and coins when I was little if I was good while at church. But I never got the piggy bank. (Middle of ninth grade.)
This move took me to Beckley, WV - to my dad's house. It was kind of awkward at first. I hadn't seen my dad very much in the last several years, so it was almost like moving in with a stranger. I didn't know many of his likes and dislikes. I didn't know his habits. I didn't know his favorite foods. And oddly enough, he didn't know those things about me. I had changed a lot since we had last lived together, obviously, but so had he. He had quit drinking and therefore had changed completely. So we had to get to know each other all over again - which if you know my dad, you will understand how difficult this was at times. I hadn't gotten most of my clothes from my mom's house and what I DID get didn't fit all that well, so my stepmom took me shopping almost every day for the first two weeks and once a week for the two weeks after that. She also took me to the eye doctor so I could get contact lenses. And she also taught me how to do my own makeup and how to make clothes look good together and how to do my hair.
A few weeks later, my dad and stepmom decided to get back together and then my dad accepted a job offer in Springfield, OH. So my dad and I moved our stuff into my stepmom's house until the move to Ohio. I didn't talk to my mom at all while I lived in either of those two places - if I did, I don't remember it. (Still the middle of ninth grade.)
Finally, we moved to Springfield, OH. My mom would call every now and then and I would talk to her. She would send cards with letters in them. The letters mostly consisted with how she didn't understand why I didn't want to talk to her more often and why I wouldn't come and visit her. Eventually, my brother decided that he wanted to move in with us too and he did. After, my mom would come to visit us every now and then. Two things came of these visits. One, I would ask her all the time why she treated me like she did and every time the answer I got was "You're not old enough to understand." I was old enough to use as a sounding board throughout her divorce, but I wasn't old enough to understand why she treated me like crap. That didn't sit very well at all. The second thing was how controlling Jeff was. Every time she would spend time with me and my brother, he would call her constantly and ask how long she was going to be and how the visit was going. So I took one of those times and finally came clean that Jeff was part of the reason that I wouldn't visit her. After this visit, I got a card with a letter in it which I call her "goodbye letter". It said that if I couldn't accept Jeff as her husband and that he was a part of her life, then that meant that I didn't accept her either. It went on to say that she would not contact me anymore and if/when I decided to accept Jeff, to let her know and we could pick up where we left off.
I haven't contacted her since.
Now, if you've noticed, I have underlined certain parts of this blog and numbered them from 1 - 13. There are things that I found out after the fact that I would like to elaborate on.
1. This was the first of many lies. My dad hadn't found a new woman. My mom thought that since my dad was spending time with his friends after class or whatever, that he was secretly cheating on her. Yes, when she kicked him out, he moved in with the woman that is now my stepmom. But they were in no way a couple at the time.
2. This was a lie. My dad was giving my mom money well before it was ordered by a court. In fact, he was giving her almost 3/4 of his check. I've seen the bank statements where the payments came out of his account.
3. This was a lie. We never had a house with a pool. This was merely Jeff's way of hooking my mom and getting me and my brother to like him.
4. I'm not sure if this is true or not. Jeff had been on the phone, but I've never been able to verify who he was talking to or the content of the conversation that set him off.
5. During the six weeks we were in Maryland, no one back in WV knew where we were. My grandparents didn't know. My dad and stepmom didn't know. The schools didn't know. In fact, the schools had contacted child protection services to let them know my brother and I hadn't been at school and we hadn't been withdrawn from the school either. Child protective services had reached out to my dad looking for us, but he was unable to help them.
6. This was a lie. According to other people, Jeff knew Natalie's mother was pregnant when he left.
7. This was a lie for the most part. When my half brother was born, he had a rare protein allergy. He couldn't have any dairy, beef, pork... everything he ate had to be soy. He was also born mostly deaf. So he was sick... a lot. They were constantly going to hospitals and seeing new doctors trying to figure out what was wrong with him and yes, some of these appointments fell on visitation times. Sometimes they had to make emergency trips to specialty hospitals that were hours away. And there was once when my brother was getting over chicken pox and our visitation was cancelled so if the virus was still able to be transmitted, it wouldn't go to our half brother - especially with his already compromised immune system. But my mother would tell us that our half brother wasn't really sick and that our dad was just too busy with his new family to care about us.
8. This was a lie. I found out later that they hadn't paid their rent and the landlord was constantly calling and coming around looking for money.
9. The reason for this was a lie. I didn't know it until years later when I went to get my first apartment and had issues getting utilities in my name. According to them, I had several hundred dollars that were owed to the water/sanitation company in WV and to the electric company in WV as well. I had to make a trip to WV to each of these companies and give them copies of my birth certificate and social security card to prove to them that I was underage at the time and there was no way I could have had utilities in my name. The electric company told me they would take care of it. The water company told me the same, but they went a step further. They asked who I was living with at the time, so I told them. They found my mom and Jeff's names in their current customer list and told me they were going to tack on the overdue charges onto their next month's bill. (This is also related to the time I saw my mother in court after her goodbye letter. We were there to get custody of my brother given back to her and to get child support switched back not very long after I had to sort out things with the utility companies. I was in a room reading a Reader's Digest magazine and in there happened to be an article about identity theft. I ripped it out and handed it to my mother while she was walking down the hallway. She asked what it was, looked at it and yelled that she didn't steal my identity. Her lawyer told her to be quiet and to not say another word. As she started walking back down the hall, I asked if she had gotten her water bill recently and went back in the room before she had a chance to respond.)
10. All of this was a lie. Jeff never got a phone call from the health department. I didn't have an STD. From what I heard, they found out from someone at school and this was the story they came up with to get me to tell them. In my mother's visits after I moved to Ohio, I would ask her time and time again why she lied to me and then never told me the truth after she got the information she wanted. And each time her answer was "you're too young to understand."
11. There are two issues with this. One, she took me to a "general practitioner" and not to an OBGYN like I should have gone to. Number two, yes my cervix was most likely swollen... I had just ended my period. But there is no way that a doctor can tell how many people you've had sex with. I have a feeling he told her that my cervix was swollen and that she's the one that added the "seven partners" bit.
12. While all four of them were sitting in the car, my mother handed copies of my diary to my dad. She had taken my diary and photocopied the whole thing. From what I understand, she gave copies to several of my friends' parents and people that she knew. My dad tore his copy up.
13. For a long time, a lot of my friends didn't even know I had left. They were told I was really sick.
I can't seem to forgive my mother for the things that she's done to me. I have a LOT of hatred towards her and even more for her husband. From experience, they are both entirely too manipulative to have in my life and quite frankly, I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to decipher what she tells me and figure out if it's a lie or not. So I have found it much easier to not have any contact with her at all. Since her "goodbye letter", she has not tried to reach out to me and I have not tried to contact her. But now, I not only have myself to think about when it comes to her... I have the boys to think about. I don't think they need to have her influence in their lives.
And now to my stepmom... we may not get along all the time and lord knows we have our differences, but she was there for me when I needed a mother. She was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on when I was upset after reading a letter or after a phone call. She took the brunt of my hatred towards my real mother when I would act out - which for a long time, was pretty frequent. Her and my dad gave me stability in a time when stability didn't seem like an option. They took care of me, they clothed me, they made sure I had everything that I needed and more. And yes, they disciplined me. I definitely didn't like it and I bucked them at every turn, but like they always told me - I needed to be able to be a kid again. I didn't need to be an adult anymore. I've also tried to take that same approach with the boys. It shouldn't matter if I gave birth to them or not... I'll take care of them anyway.
So when people ask why I call my stepmom "mom", I respond with "because even though she's not my biological mother, that's what she's been to me."
DISCLAIMER: This blog does not paint a pretty picture for some people in my life. I apologize in advance if this offends anyone. That being said, this is a not-so-great time in my life through MY eyes.
NOTE: I blocked out a lot of time in my head according to my therapist I had several years ago, most likely for the best. But this is what I remember.
Most people don't know that the person I call my mom is actually my stepmom. So when I say something and use the phrase "my real mom", I tend to get funny looks. I have not talked to my real mom since I was 16. There has been one phone call where I called and went off on her and another time when I saw her at a court house since then, but there has not been an actual, meaningful conversation since. But to understand why I have chosen not to have her as a part of my life, I have to tell you things that happened between the ages of six/seven and sixteen.
Here goes....
I was living in Charleston, WV. My dad was a truck driver at the time and had fallen out of the back of his truck one day and had slipped disks in his lower spine. The doctors told him that he wouldn't be able to sit for really long periods of time anymore, so he decided to go back to school so he could change careers. He enrolled in what is now Mountain State University in Beckley, WV. His school was an hour away from where we lived and my mom's job was still in Charleston, so my parents decided to move somewhere that would be a good middle distance from both places. They chose Oak Hill, WV. (First grade.)
We moved and everything was great for a while... at least I thought it was. One day in the middle of winter after it had snowed quite a bit, my mom told my brother and me to get some trash bags and start putting my dad's clothes in it. We did what we were told. Once we had filled them up, she tied them up and threw them out on the front yard. I never did see my dad come and pick them up. (1) My mom told us that our dad had found a new woman that he wanted to live with and that he wouldn't be coming back home. (Second grade... I think?)
As I'm sure you guessed, they had started getting a divorce. Since my mom didn't need to be close to dad's school anymore, we moved into a house that my grandparents own in South Charleston, WV. My mom started acting really weird and losing a lot of weight... really fast. (2) She would tell my brother and me that our dad wasn't paying her any child support, so we couldn't afford much. Money was so tight that there were times where we would eat cereal for breakfast, eat lunch at school, and have cereal for dinner again. We would have Taco Bell a lot too since it was really cheap. (But she was still able to go out and buy new lingerie and red color for her hair??) One day, my brother and I came home from school and found mom on the couch making out with a guy named Jim. I knew she would have to start dating again sometime (didn't think it would be that soon after her divorce) but that doesn't mean I had to like it - or like him. I don't think it lasted long because that was the only time I saw Jim. As far as my dad went, he had a baby with the woman he was living with and married her. I didn't see him very often, sometimes by choice... I couldn't stand the fact that he had a new family. (Fifth/Sixth grade.)
Not too long after that, my mom started talking about some guy she was talking to online named Jeff. She would tell me that he was promising her the world... that they were going to move in together and (3) we were going to have a huge house with a pool. Keep in mind, neither myself or my brother had met this guy yet. A few weeks later, we headed to Virginia to meet Jeff. For whatever reason, my mom thought it would be a good idea to stay down there with him, so we spent about a month in and out of different hotels. Somehow, we ended up in Lexington Park, MD in a two bedroom apartment above a laundromat. (One of the details that I blocked out is how we got all of our stuff to Maryland or what we did with it while we were staying in hotels.) Mom and Jeff got one of the bedrooms and I got the other one. We ended up taking furniture and making "walls" with it to make a "bedroom" for my brother in the dining room area. One day, (4) Jeff had been on the phone with his ex wife and got mad because she wouldn't let him talk to his son and he decided to take it out on my mom. He was screaming at her and she was screaming back. My brother came into my room and hid behind my bed. Jeff started chasing my mom through the apartment and she ran into the bathroom which was across the hall from my room and locked the door. He was pounding on the door and screaming that if she didn't open the door, he was going to bust it down. I had finally had enough. I told my brother to stay where he was and I went into the hallway. I screamed at Jeff. I told him that he was not allowed to talk to my mother like that and he was not allowed to chase her through the house and to leave her the fuck alone - the first time I had ever cussed. He yelled back, telling me I was just a little kid and didn't need to be involved in their argument. So I got his keys and threw them at him and told him to get the fuck out. Eventually he left and cooled down, but I decided at that point, that I did not want to have Jeff around. (5) We stayed in Maryland for 6 weeks because the job that Jeff was supposed to get on an air force base didn't come through. (Sixth grade.)
When we left Maryland we moved back to South Charleston, WV into another two bedroom apartment, this time it was the bottom half of a duplex with the entrance through an alley. Again, Mom and Jeff got one bedroom, I got the other, and again we made a room for my brother out of furniture in the dining room area. One day, Jeff and I were at the post office and we ran into a woman that Jeff knew. They exchanged numbers and Jeff told her that he would call her soon. When we got back to the apartment, my mom and Jeff went into their room and talked for a long time. They finally came out, sat my brother and I down on the couch and told us that the woman at the post office was the mother of his daughter that (6) he didn't know he had. Soon after, Natalie started coming to visit. And not too much longer, we were told that she wanted to move in with us. But having five people in a two bedroom apartment wasn't going to work, so we moved again. Up to this point, I was visiting my dad, but it wasn't very often. Not because we didn't want to, but because (7) he kept cancelling. (Seventh grade.)
This time, we moved to Kanawha City, WV into a 3 bedroom house that we rented. Mom and Jeff got their own room, my brother got his own room, and Natalie and I shared a room. Both of our beds, her furniture and clothes, and my nightstand was in the bedroom while the rest of my furniture was in a walk in closet in the hallway. Not too much happened here, at least that I can remember. We stayed here until the end of mine and Natalie's eighth grade year until (8) mom and Jeff decided that we needed a bigger house. Again, neither my brother or I saw our dad much because of cancellations. (End of 8th grade.)
The next move was back into Charleston, WV. The house was bigger though... we all had our own rooms. My brother even got the biggest room to "make up" for not having a room for a while. Several things happened while I lived here, and the majority of them were major things that changed a lot of things in my life. This is where I get into some really private things but I feel I need to get them out.
One thing that happened came via phone. My dad called one day and told me that him and my stepmom had separated and he was getting another place. He gave me his new address and phone number.
Pivotal moment number two was when I got the mail one day and the (9) sanitation / water bill had my name on it. I asked why and I was told that when you move and turn on utilities in your new house, the utility company needs to know the name of everyone that lives in the house and so it had to be a mix up at the water company.
The last pivotal moment was when I lost my virginity. I was 14 years old. Now, to understand how this was possible at such a young age, you have to understand my home environment. I was allowed to run and do what I wanted (for the most part) and I was allowed to hang out with who I wanted... this included much older guys in my high school. My mother was too involved with Jeff and marrying him was her top priority so taking care of her kids was really put on the back burner. It got to the point where I was taking care of my stepsister and brother most of the time... making sure they had something to eat, had medicine if needed, and that all the laundry was done. They would even come to me and ask me if they could go to the park to shoot hoops sometimes. So when I would leave the house, I didn't really have any restrictions.
I was able to keep it a secret for a few months. But my mom and Jeff eventually found out. They woke me up in the middle of the night and had me come down to the den to talk to them. My mom sat in a chair next to me and Jeff sat behind his desk. He started with (10) "I got a phone call from someone at the health department today saying that someone came in and got tested and it turned out to be positive for syphilis. This person named you (talking to me) as a sexual partner. So I need you to tell me what's been going on." Of course, I denied everything... told him that I didn't know what he was talking about. So when that didn't work, he pulled up pictures on his computer of what syphilis can do to you when it goes untreated. Once I saw those, I got really scared and of course, I fessed up. That week, my mom made me an appointment with our family doctor for my first female exam. When the exam was over, the doctor told my mother that from the exam, he could see that (11) my cervix looked a bit swollen and that I had sex with at least 7 different guys. I flipped out because it wasn't true... I had been with ONE guy. She decided that I needed to go spend the weekend with my dad so he could "beat some sense" into me and after I get back, I would be locked in my room for months.
I went to my dad's that weekend as planned and told him what I had done. But instead of getting a "beating" like I had expected, my dad just held me and comforted me. Apparently my mom found my diary while I was gone (my grandma had gotten me one every year for my birthday for as long as I could remember and I wrote in it faithfully, so of course everything was in there). She popped the lock and read it. She called every 5 - 10 minutes while I was at my dad's house that weekend trying to tell him something else I had done. Eventually he told her he didn't want to know anymore and told her to stop calling. I decided at that point that I wanted to move in with my dad. So I asked him and he told me I could. The time finally came to where I was supposed to go back home so we went to the Paint Creek exit off of I-64 (that was our usual meeting spot since it was about halfway) and waited for my mom and Jeff to get there. When they finally showed up, (12) my dad and stepmom left me in the car while they went and sat in the car with my mom and Jeff to make arrangements. Once they were done, they asked me to come in the car with the four of them and my mom asked me if I wanted to move in with my dad. I told her yes. I was completely ready to go back with mom and Jeff to pack my things and take my books back to school and (13) say goodbye to my friends, but Jeff said that if I wanted to move out, I wasn't welcome back at all. He also said they would go back and pack my things up and my dad was more than welcome to come and get it, but I was not permitted back at the house. I wasn't going to change my mind, so I went back home with my dad and stepmom. A few days later, my mom called my dad and told him that my things were ready to pick up, so he drove the hour there to get it. When he got there, everything of mine - everything of mine that they wanted me to take - was sitting on the front porch. (I don't remember if my mom was actually at the house or not.) There were several things that I didn't get back. I don't remember everything I didn't get back (I used to have a list at one point) but there are two things that I was very upset about not having. I had a ruby and diamond ring that my dad and stepmom had gotten me that I never got and I had a crayon shaped piggy bank that I kept $2 bills, half dollar coins and dollar coins in. My grandma would give me these old bills and coins when I was little if I was good while at church. But I never got the piggy bank. (Middle of ninth grade.)
This move took me to Beckley, WV - to my dad's house. It was kind of awkward at first. I hadn't seen my dad very much in the last several years, so it was almost like moving in with a stranger. I didn't know many of his likes and dislikes. I didn't know his habits. I didn't know his favorite foods. And oddly enough, he didn't know those things about me. I had changed a lot since we had last lived together, obviously, but so had he. He had quit drinking and therefore had changed completely. So we had to get to know each other all over again - which if you know my dad, you will understand how difficult this was at times. I hadn't gotten most of my clothes from my mom's house and what I DID get didn't fit all that well, so my stepmom took me shopping almost every day for the first two weeks and once a week for the two weeks after that. She also took me to the eye doctor so I could get contact lenses. And she also taught me how to do my own makeup and how to make clothes look good together and how to do my hair.
A few weeks later, my dad and stepmom decided to get back together and then my dad accepted a job offer in Springfield, OH. So my dad and I moved our stuff into my stepmom's house until the move to Ohio. I didn't talk to my mom at all while I lived in either of those two places - if I did, I don't remember it. (Still the middle of ninth grade.)
Finally, we moved to Springfield, OH. My mom would call every now and then and I would talk to her. She would send cards with letters in them. The letters mostly consisted with how she didn't understand why I didn't want to talk to her more often and why I wouldn't come and visit her. Eventually, my brother decided that he wanted to move in with us too and he did. After, my mom would come to visit us every now and then. Two things came of these visits. One, I would ask her all the time why she treated me like she did and every time the answer I got was "You're not old enough to understand." I was old enough to use as a sounding board throughout her divorce, but I wasn't old enough to understand why she treated me like crap. That didn't sit very well at all. The second thing was how controlling Jeff was. Every time she would spend time with me and my brother, he would call her constantly and ask how long she was going to be and how the visit was going. So I took one of those times and finally came clean that Jeff was part of the reason that I wouldn't visit her. After this visit, I got a card with a letter in it which I call her "goodbye letter". It said that if I couldn't accept Jeff as her husband and that he was a part of her life, then that meant that I didn't accept her either. It went on to say that she would not contact me anymore and if/when I decided to accept Jeff, to let her know and we could pick up where we left off.
I haven't contacted her since.
Now, if you've noticed, I have underlined certain parts of this blog and numbered them from 1 - 13. There are things that I found out after the fact that I would like to elaborate on.
1. This was the first of many lies. My dad hadn't found a new woman. My mom thought that since my dad was spending time with his friends after class or whatever, that he was secretly cheating on her. Yes, when she kicked him out, he moved in with the woman that is now my stepmom. But they were in no way a couple at the time.
2. This was a lie. My dad was giving my mom money well before it was ordered by a court. In fact, he was giving her almost 3/4 of his check. I've seen the bank statements where the payments came out of his account.
3. This was a lie. We never had a house with a pool. This was merely Jeff's way of hooking my mom and getting me and my brother to like him.
4. I'm not sure if this is true or not. Jeff had been on the phone, but I've never been able to verify who he was talking to or the content of the conversation that set him off.
5. During the six weeks we were in Maryland, no one back in WV knew where we were. My grandparents didn't know. My dad and stepmom didn't know. The schools didn't know. In fact, the schools had contacted child protection services to let them know my brother and I hadn't been at school and we hadn't been withdrawn from the school either. Child protective services had reached out to my dad looking for us, but he was unable to help them.
6. This was a lie. According to other people, Jeff knew Natalie's mother was pregnant when he left.
7. This was a lie for the most part. When my half brother was born, he had a rare protein allergy. He couldn't have any dairy, beef, pork... everything he ate had to be soy. He was also born mostly deaf. So he was sick... a lot. They were constantly going to hospitals and seeing new doctors trying to figure out what was wrong with him and yes, some of these appointments fell on visitation times. Sometimes they had to make emergency trips to specialty hospitals that were hours away. And there was once when my brother was getting over chicken pox and our visitation was cancelled so if the virus was still able to be transmitted, it wouldn't go to our half brother - especially with his already compromised immune system. But my mother would tell us that our half brother wasn't really sick and that our dad was just too busy with his new family to care about us.
8. This was a lie. I found out later that they hadn't paid their rent and the landlord was constantly calling and coming around looking for money.
9. The reason for this was a lie. I didn't know it until years later when I went to get my first apartment and had issues getting utilities in my name. According to them, I had several hundred dollars that were owed to the water/sanitation company in WV and to the electric company in WV as well. I had to make a trip to WV to each of these companies and give them copies of my birth certificate and social security card to prove to them that I was underage at the time and there was no way I could have had utilities in my name. The electric company told me they would take care of it. The water company told me the same, but they went a step further. They asked who I was living with at the time, so I told them. They found my mom and Jeff's names in their current customer list and told me they were going to tack on the overdue charges onto their next month's bill. (This is also related to the time I saw my mother in court after her goodbye letter. We were there to get custody of my brother given back to her and to get child support switched back not very long after I had to sort out things with the utility companies. I was in a room reading a Reader's Digest magazine and in there happened to be an article about identity theft. I ripped it out and handed it to my mother while she was walking down the hallway. She asked what it was, looked at it and yelled that she didn't steal my identity. Her lawyer told her to be quiet and to not say another word. As she started walking back down the hall, I asked if she had gotten her water bill recently and went back in the room before she had a chance to respond.)
10. All of this was a lie. Jeff never got a phone call from the health department. I didn't have an STD. From what I heard, they found out from someone at school and this was the story they came up with to get me to tell them. In my mother's visits after I moved to Ohio, I would ask her time and time again why she lied to me and then never told me the truth after she got the information she wanted. And each time her answer was "you're too young to understand."
11. There are two issues with this. One, she took me to a "general practitioner" and not to an OBGYN like I should have gone to. Number two, yes my cervix was most likely swollen... I had just ended my period. But there is no way that a doctor can tell how many people you've had sex with. I have a feeling he told her that my cervix was swollen and that she's the one that added the "seven partners" bit.
12. While all four of them were sitting in the car, my mother handed copies of my diary to my dad. She had taken my diary and photocopied the whole thing. From what I understand, she gave copies to several of my friends' parents and people that she knew. My dad tore his copy up.
13. For a long time, a lot of my friends didn't even know I had left. They were told I was really sick.
I can't seem to forgive my mother for the things that she's done to me. I have a LOT of hatred towards her and even more for her husband. From experience, they are both entirely too manipulative to have in my life and quite frankly, I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to decipher what she tells me and figure out if it's a lie or not. So I have found it much easier to not have any contact with her at all. Since her "goodbye letter", she has not tried to reach out to me and I have not tried to contact her. But now, I not only have myself to think about when it comes to her... I have the boys to think about. I don't think they need to have her influence in their lives.
And now to my stepmom... we may not get along all the time and lord knows we have our differences, but she was there for me when I needed a mother. She was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on when I was upset after reading a letter or after a phone call. She took the brunt of my hatred towards my real mother when I would act out - which for a long time, was pretty frequent. Her and my dad gave me stability in a time when stability didn't seem like an option. They took care of me, they clothed me, they made sure I had everything that I needed and more. And yes, they disciplined me. I definitely didn't like it and I bucked them at every turn, but like they always told me - I needed to be able to be a kid again. I didn't need to be an adult anymore. I've also tried to take that same approach with the boys. It shouldn't matter if I gave birth to them or not... I'll take care of them anyway.
So when people ask why I call my stepmom "mom", I respond with "because even though she's not my biological mother, that's what she's been to me."
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Teenage Girls
Timothy and I made a trip to WalMart today to get a few things and while we were in the checkout line, three girls (that appeared to be teenagers, but who knows these days!) walked by in booty shorts and bathing suit string bikini tops.
Now... when I was that age, I didn't DARE leave the house looking like that, let alone go into a store like that. I wore something over my bathing suit if I had one on. My momma (stepmom for anyone that wants to get technical about it - more to come in another blog, I'm sure) would have kicked my you-know-what when she found out. And that's WHEN, not IF... she ALWAYS could tell when I had done something I shouldn't have. When I was in school, the dress code said if you wore shorts, they had to come down to your middle finger tip when you put your hands down to your sides and my mom kinda went off of that too. Of course, it was really hard to find shorts that matched that description because it wasn't in style to wear longer shorts. So most of the shorts that I had came to the end of my thumb. I didn't dare to even ask to get shorts that showed my butt cheeks. But it worked out for the best because even now I refuse to wear shorts that my butt hangs out of. (Which is a good thing for other people because I have a LOT MORE butt now than I did back then!!)
As far as the bikini top goes, isn't "No shirt, no shoes, no service" most stores' policy?? That would be the same as me walking through WalMart in my bra! Which, again, I'm sure most people wouldn't appreciate that. Maybe I should have taken my shirt off right there? That would have gotten someones attention. Maybe someone would have told management and I could have gotten thrown out of WalMart. But did those super skinny teenage girls get asked to cover up? Nope. Maybe once I lose enough weight, I can walk through WalMart in a newly purchased bikini!! Better yet, I could go to the changing rooms, put on the bikini, put my clothes in my purse, and walk up to the check out line with the tags in my hand. OOH! I could leave the tags on so when I get to the check out line, the person would have to come out from the safety of their little wall and "check me out". I wonder if I would get asked to leave then? Most likely. Guaranteed, if I was a super skinny teenager again, I wouldn't.
This is one example of why I'm glad I'm raising BOYS and not girls. I don't have to worry about them dressing like they're "asking for it". But, on the flip side, I have to worry about them sagging their pants and showing off their butts which Timothy already has started doing. You wait, one of these days, he's going to have those pants or shorts down near his butt crack and I'm going to pull them down in the middle of a store or something. A little humiliation never hurt anyone. Then everyone would get to see his tan lines and how white the tops of his legs are. (Insert evil laugh here!!) The bad thing is, he has a belt. A good, functioning, black belt. But for whatever reason, he won't use it. I was pretty good about making sure he had a belt on during the school year, but I've definitely been slacking during the summer. This was evident yesterday when we went out to Brian's work to watch the Blue Angels' performance for the 2012 Dayton Air Show. I had to tell him THREE TIMES in an HOUR to quit pulling his shirt up and showing off his underwear. Maybe everyone needs to know he wears tighty whities?? I'm sure all of his friends would be interested in knowing... that way they could make fun of him all the time. Maybe he'd quit showing his underwear off then?? (Insert another evil laugh here!) OOH! Or he could just wear his suspenders that I got him for his field trip to a one room school house where they had to dress up like they were in the early 1900s. YEA!!! I think he's going to start wearing them... maybe all the weird looks that he gets from it will change his mind.
Side note: I understand it's hot outside right now, but it's not that hard to put on a tank top or something!!!
Regardless... I refuse to let the boys look like they're little wanna-be-gangsters. And if any little girls would to be to enter the family (hey, it's possible...) they're gonna know what it means to COVER UP!!
And to all the teenage girls reading this: When you walk around like that, it's not cute. It's not pretty. It's not appropriate. Please cover yourself up before leaving the house or entering a store.
Now... when I was that age, I didn't DARE leave the house looking like that, let alone go into a store like that. I wore something over my bathing suit if I had one on. My momma (stepmom for anyone that wants to get technical about it - more to come in another blog, I'm sure) would have kicked my you-know-what when she found out. And that's WHEN, not IF... she ALWAYS could tell when I had done something I shouldn't have. When I was in school, the dress code said if you wore shorts, they had to come down to your middle finger tip when you put your hands down to your sides and my mom kinda went off of that too. Of course, it was really hard to find shorts that matched that description because it wasn't in style to wear longer shorts. So most of the shorts that I had came to the end of my thumb. I didn't dare to even ask to get shorts that showed my butt cheeks. But it worked out for the best because even now I refuse to wear shorts that my butt hangs out of. (Which is a good thing for other people because I have a LOT MORE butt now than I did back then!!)
As far as the bikini top goes, isn't "No shirt, no shoes, no service" most stores' policy?? That would be the same as me walking through WalMart in my bra! Which, again, I'm sure most people wouldn't appreciate that. Maybe I should have taken my shirt off right there? That would have gotten someones attention. Maybe someone would have told management and I could have gotten thrown out of WalMart. But did those super skinny teenage girls get asked to cover up? Nope. Maybe once I lose enough weight, I can walk through WalMart in a newly purchased bikini!! Better yet, I could go to the changing rooms, put on the bikini, put my clothes in my purse, and walk up to the check out line with the tags in my hand. OOH! I could leave the tags on so when I get to the check out line, the person would have to come out from the safety of their little wall and "check me out". I wonder if I would get asked to leave then? Most likely. Guaranteed, if I was a super skinny teenager again, I wouldn't.
This is one example of why I'm glad I'm raising BOYS and not girls. I don't have to worry about them dressing like they're "asking for it". But, on the flip side, I have to worry about them sagging their pants and showing off their butts which Timothy already has started doing. You wait, one of these days, he's going to have those pants or shorts down near his butt crack and I'm going to pull them down in the middle of a store or something. A little humiliation never hurt anyone. Then everyone would get to see his tan lines and how white the tops of his legs are. (Insert evil laugh here!!) The bad thing is, he has a belt. A good, functioning, black belt. But for whatever reason, he won't use it. I was pretty good about making sure he had a belt on during the school year, but I've definitely been slacking during the summer. This was evident yesterday when we went out to Brian's work to watch the Blue Angels' performance for the 2012 Dayton Air Show. I had to tell him THREE TIMES in an HOUR to quit pulling his shirt up and showing off his underwear. Maybe everyone needs to know he wears tighty whities?? I'm sure all of his friends would be interested in knowing... that way they could make fun of him all the time. Maybe he'd quit showing his underwear off then?? (Insert another evil laugh here!) OOH! Or he could just wear his suspenders that I got him for his field trip to a one room school house where they had to dress up like they were in the early 1900s. YEA!!! I think he's going to start wearing them... maybe all the weird looks that he gets from it will change his mind.
Side note: I understand it's hot outside right now, but it's not that hard to put on a tank top or something!!!
Regardless... I refuse to let the boys look like they're little wanna-be-gangsters. And if any little girls would to be to enter the family (hey, it's possible...) they're gonna know what it means to COVER UP!!
And to all the teenage girls reading this: When you walk around like that, it's not cute. It's not pretty. It's not appropriate. Please cover yourself up before leaving the house or entering a store.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Words
* * * DISCLAIMER #1: This blog is about marriage and divorce and my views on it. It is not in any way directed at anyone in particular and it is not meant to offend anyone. I am not trying to tell anyone that their beliefs are wrong and I know not everyone sees things the way that I do. Just please remember when reading this that these are MY opinions and MY views and they're not likely to be changed. * * *
Last night Brian was holding me before we went to sleep like we do almost every night and he whispered, "Thanks for being my wife." I smiled and told him "Thanks for being my husband."
Wife. Husband. Those are powerful words. (It's been about a year and a half since we got married and it still seems surreal sometimes.) But those words are only powerful if you believe the meaning behind them. All words are like that when you stop and think about it.
* * * DISCLAIMER #2: These are my personal definitions of what these words mean. They're not from Webster dictionary and they may not be what is politically correct or what is popular at the moment. They are MY beliefs and what these words mean to me. * * *
~ Wife: A woman who is committed to the person she is with and plans on spending the rest of her life with this person, regardless of if the other person is also a woman.
~ Husband: A man who is committed to the person he is with and plans on spending the rest of his life with this person, regardless of if the other person is also a man.
~ Marriage: Two people committing themselves completely to another person.
(Yes, I believe in marriage equality for straight couples as well as gay/lesbian couples.)
~ Vows: Sacred promises two people make to each other when they dedicate themselves to the other person.
~ Wedding: A ceremony, regardless of size, where two people make their vows to each other.
Weddings used to be major, life-changing events... people didn't get married and divorced over and over again.. once you said your vows and committed yourself to that person, you were with that person for life. They may not have been completely happy with their choice of spouse all the time, but they found a way to make it work. If it was "broke", they fixed it. I think people now days quit on marriages that could be saved if given the chance and the right tools. I don't think it's because everyone bails out when it's not easy anymore...there's going to be a lot of times that it's going to be hard. But I think society has made it easier and more acceptable for divorce to happen. I'm not going to say I'm entirely old fashioned, because I'm pretty liberal on some views. But... I believe in marriage. I believe once you make those promises to someone, you do everything you can to uphold those promises. I'm also not going to say that it's wrong to get divorced because I believe there are some pretty good reasons to get divorced. I just don't think it's right to leave a marriage without doing everything in your power to try to make the marriage work.
I would like to touch on the whole marriage equality issue for a minute though. I said I do believe in the definition of marriage but I believe in MY definition of marriage. I believe marriage can be between a man and a woman or between two women or two men. It shouldn't matter what organs the person was born with... the basic fundamentals are still there. They are still committed to that person, they love that person, they support that person. All of the same feelings are there. Is it what I would choose for my life? No. But I also know that if I was in that situation, where another woman was able to make me happier and be a better partner in life than the men I'd met and still be able to have a sexual attraction to that woman, I would definitely not appreciate someone trying to tell me that I couldn't be married to that person - let alone someone trying to tell me that it's wrong for me to love the person that I do. Flip the tables for a minute. What if the social norm was for people of the same sex to be together and opposite sex unions were taboo. (Try not to think about the ability to reproduce...) Would you women still be with your husbands? Would you men still be with your wives? I'm sorry, but I wouldn't give up the person that I love and that loves me back just because someone else thinks it's unacceptable. (And if one of the boys decided that being gay was the lifestyle they wanted, I wouldn't want other people to look down on them or shun them or treat them any differently.) To tell gays and lesbians that they can't get married or to make the word "union" the legal term for their marriage, to me, is pure discrimination. That would be the same thing as someone trying to tell a straight person that they can't marry a person of the opposite sex.
In the end, my view on the issue is simply this: I'll live my life the way I want and you live your life the way you want. As long as you don't try to push your lifestyle on me when I don't want it, then we're good. I'll respect how you live your life as long as you respect how I live mine.
Last night Brian was holding me before we went to sleep like we do almost every night and he whispered, "Thanks for being my wife." I smiled and told him "Thanks for being my husband."
Wife. Husband. Those are powerful words. (It's been about a year and a half since we got married and it still seems surreal sometimes.) But those words are only powerful if you believe the meaning behind them. All words are like that when you stop and think about it.
* * * DISCLAIMER #2: These are my personal definitions of what these words mean. They're not from Webster dictionary and they may not be what is politically correct or what is popular at the moment. They are MY beliefs and what these words mean to me. * * *
~ Wife: A woman who is committed to the person she is with and plans on spending the rest of her life with this person, regardless of if the other person is also a woman.
~ Husband: A man who is committed to the person he is with and plans on spending the rest of his life with this person, regardless of if the other person is also a man.
~ Marriage: Two people committing themselves completely to another person.
(Yes, I believe in marriage equality for straight couples as well as gay/lesbian couples.)
~ Vows: Sacred promises two people make to each other when they dedicate themselves to the other person.
~ Wedding: A ceremony, regardless of size, where two people make their vows to each other.
Weddings used to be major, life-changing events... people didn't get married and divorced over and over again.. once you said your vows and committed yourself to that person, you were with that person for life. They may not have been completely happy with their choice of spouse all the time, but they found a way to make it work. If it was "broke", they fixed it. I think people now days quit on marriages that could be saved if given the chance and the right tools. I don't think it's because everyone bails out when it's not easy anymore...there's going to be a lot of times that it's going to be hard. But I think society has made it easier and more acceptable for divorce to happen. I'm not going to say I'm entirely old fashioned, because I'm pretty liberal on some views. But... I believe in marriage. I believe once you make those promises to someone, you do everything you can to uphold those promises. I'm also not going to say that it's wrong to get divorced because I believe there are some pretty good reasons to get divorced. I just don't think it's right to leave a marriage without doing everything in your power to try to make the marriage work.
I would like to touch on the whole marriage equality issue for a minute though. I said I do believe in the definition of marriage but I believe in MY definition of marriage. I believe marriage can be between a man and a woman or between two women or two men. It shouldn't matter what organs the person was born with... the basic fundamentals are still there. They are still committed to that person, they love that person, they support that person. All of the same feelings are there. Is it what I would choose for my life? No. But I also know that if I was in that situation, where another woman was able to make me happier and be a better partner in life than the men I'd met and still be able to have a sexual attraction to that woman, I would definitely not appreciate someone trying to tell me that I couldn't be married to that person - let alone someone trying to tell me that it's wrong for me to love the person that I do. Flip the tables for a minute. What if the social norm was for people of the same sex to be together and opposite sex unions were taboo. (Try not to think about the ability to reproduce...) Would you women still be with your husbands? Would you men still be with your wives? I'm sorry, but I wouldn't give up the person that I love and that loves me back just because someone else thinks it's unacceptable. (And if one of the boys decided that being gay was the lifestyle they wanted, I wouldn't want other people to look down on them or shun them or treat them any differently.) To tell gays and lesbians that they can't get married or to make the word "union" the legal term for their marriage, to me, is pure discrimination. That would be the same thing as someone trying to tell a straight person that they can't marry a person of the opposite sex.
In the end, my view on the issue is simply this: I'll live my life the way I want and you live your life the way you want. As long as you don't try to push your lifestyle on me when I don't want it, then we're good. I'll respect how you live your life as long as you respect how I live mine.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Intro to Rico
Either my dog has some serious mental issues or he's on crack. One of the two. If you have ever seen "Marley & Me" or owned a lab of your own, you should know what I'm talking about.
It all started in the end of 2009 when I started bugging my husband for a dog. Not just ANY dog, but a chocolate lab. (When I say "bugging", I mean seriously nagging. Brian definitely isn't the biggest fan of animals.) FINALLY, I managed to get him to agree to getting a dog, which came with terms and conditions. He wanted to wait until the spring so we could properly housebreak the dog.
Months went by as the fall froze into winter and the winter finally melted into spring. May 1, 2010 is when we started looking for a chocolate lab to become part of our family. A few days later we found ourselves in Huber Heights, and every time we're in Huber I make a point to stop at the pet store. Between us getting out of the car and getting halfway across the parking lot, Brian turns to me and says "Is that a chocolate lab that I see?". He definitely surprised me because I knew at that point that he had done his research and found somewhere with the kind of dog I wanted.
We got inside and there were two 8-week old chocolate lab puppies in the very middle of the store. One male and one female. I went back and forth between the two, but the male seemed to be the most affectionate and females are normally high strung anyway, so I told Brian I wanted the male. His response? "It's up to you." How could he set me up like that only to have me make the decision?? Of course I said yes! This little baby puppy, born on February 28, 2010, was so adorable and so loving and so perfect. We took him out to the car and he laid down in the back seat of my car in between the kids. At that point, he was about the same length from my elbow to the tips of my fingers. Thomas came up with his name - Rico.
Fast forward two years and he is now the size of a miniature horse. The last time he was at the vet, he weighed in at 93lbs. (I was at a yard sale today and they had some saddles for sale... I seriously thought about getting one for Rico and offering "pony rides" for small children.) He has calmed down considerably over the last two years. At first it was non stop energy. Now, it's bursts of energy... sometimes they're random, other times it's provoked. Most of the time though, it's when he's trying to get someone to play with him... in the house. He'll start randomly running back and forth through the house from one end to the other... over and over and over and over again until he's out of breath or until he jumps on the couch and lays down. You'd think he'd get all of his energy out while he's outside seeing as he has several acres fenced in (invisible fence) so he can run to his heart's content.
Other reasons for believing he's either crazy or on crack:
1. He has an obsession with ice cubes. I know most dogs like them, but we can't get a drink with ice in it without him jumping and panting until he gets an ice cube.
2. He likes to chew on his bones - while laying on his back. (What??)
3. He has completely chewed up a tennis ball into little pieces so the pieces got thrown in a trash can. He proceeded to get a piece out of the trash and still tried to play fetch with it.
4. When we come back to the house (just when we're in the truck, not when we're in either of the cars...) he runs from the house to the side of the yard where the tree line is and runs back before we pull up to the house.
5. He races cars down the driveway while simultaneously trying to eat the tires.
6. Cars passing by on the road don't bother him.
7. He goes insane if a tractor passes by or if one is in any of the fields around our house.
7. He won't jump up on our bed - we have to lift him. Our bed is 3 feet off of the ground... I have to use a stool to get into bed, but he won't use that either.
8. When he gets a bath and has to be blow-dryed (if it's in the winter or it's too cold outside for him to go out and dry off), he refuses to let you dry him off anywhere but in the master bathroom.
9. He doesn't drink out of the toilet (he's only done it once that I know of)... instead, he's obsessed with drinking out of one of the sinks in the master bath. He stands on his hind legs and puts his front paws on the edge of the sink and puts his whole mouth under the running water.
10. He is afraid of stairs. Whenever anyone goes into the basement, he won't follow you down... he stands at the top of the stairs and barks or lays down and waits for you to come back. Exception: when you walk down right beside him and tell him to come on. Catch: Once he gets down in the basement, he won't come back up on his own. No amount of treats, people food, or any other bribes will make him walk back up those stairs on his own. You have to get him to the bottom of the stairs and shove him back up.
11. He's afraid of the dark. He stays outside all day (unless it's raining or really hot or really cold) and he's fine ALL DAY... until it gets dark. Once the sun goes down, he uses any means necessary to make sure you know he wants in.
12. He chews his food. He doesn't gulp it down like the majority of dogs do. We've given him corn on the cob before and he doesn't eat the cob... he bites the corn off of the cob. Tonight he got an ice cream cone... he LICKED the ice cream and took bites of the cone. He eats like a human.
13. He really doesn't bark. He had never barked before Brian and I went on our honeymoon... it was always a wanna-be growl. But we left him at a doggy hotel where he had other doggy friends that liked to bark when we went to Pigeon Forge last October. They taught him to bark. So when we brought him home (he was there for 5 days), he barked at EVERYTHING. But he gradually quit barking again... on his own. Now he only barks if he sees something outside or if there is a tractor nearby.
14. He has his own spot on the couch and God help you if you're sitting in it. That's normally when you get a slobbery toy or bone laid on your lap.
15. When he goes to Petsmart, he picks out which new bone he wants... and he gets it. He also picked out his color leash and his color halter. Both are blue.
But on the other hand, there are many reasons that he is the most awesome dog ever....
Everything I listed above... and more! I don't think we could have asked for a better, more well-mannered dog if we had written down everything we wanted in a pet.
It all started in the end of 2009 when I started bugging my husband for a dog. Not just ANY dog, but a chocolate lab. (When I say "bugging", I mean seriously nagging. Brian definitely isn't the biggest fan of animals.) FINALLY, I managed to get him to agree to getting a dog, which came with terms and conditions. He wanted to wait until the spring so we could properly housebreak the dog.
Months went by as the fall froze into winter and the winter finally melted into spring. May 1, 2010 is when we started looking for a chocolate lab to become part of our family. A few days later we found ourselves in Huber Heights, and every time we're in Huber I make a point to stop at the pet store. Between us getting out of the car and getting halfway across the parking lot, Brian turns to me and says "Is that a chocolate lab that I see?". He definitely surprised me because I knew at that point that he had done his research and found somewhere with the kind of dog I wanted.
We got inside and there were two 8-week old chocolate lab puppies in the very middle of the store. One male and one female. I went back and forth between the two, but the male seemed to be the most affectionate and females are normally high strung anyway, so I told Brian I wanted the male. His response? "It's up to you." How could he set me up like that only to have me make the decision?? Of course I said yes! This little baby puppy, born on February 28, 2010, was so adorable and so loving and so perfect. We took him out to the car and he laid down in the back seat of my car in between the kids. At that point, he was about the same length from my elbow to the tips of my fingers. Thomas came up with his name - Rico.
Fast forward two years and he is now the size of a miniature horse. The last time he was at the vet, he weighed in at 93lbs. (I was at a yard sale today and they had some saddles for sale... I seriously thought about getting one for Rico and offering "pony rides" for small children.) He has calmed down considerably over the last two years. At first it was non stop energy. Now, it's bursts of energy... sometimes they're random, other times it's provoked. Most of the time though, it's when he's trying to get someone to play with him... in the house. He'll start randomly running back and forth through the house from one end to the other... over and over and over and over again until he's out of breath or until he jumps on the couch and lays down. You'd think he'd get all of his energy out while he's outside seeing as he has several acres fenced in (invisible fence) so he can run to his heart's content.
Other reasons for believing he's either crazy or on crack:
1. He has an obsession with ice cubes. I know most dogs like them, but we can't get a drink with ice in it without him jumping and panting until he gets an ice cube.
2. He likes to chew on his bones - while laying on his back. (What??)
3. He has completely chewed up a tennis ball into little pieces so the pieces got thrown in a trash can. He proceeded to get a piece out of the trash and still tried to play fetch with it.
4. When we come back to the house (just when we're in the truck, not when we're in either of the cars...) he runs from the house to the side of the yard where the tree line is and runs back before we pull up to the house.
5. He races cars down the driveway while simultaneously trying to eat the tires.
6. Cars passing by on the road don't bother him.
7. He goes insane if a tractor passes by or if one is in any of the fields around our house.
7. He won't jump up on our bed - we have to lift him. Our bed is 3 feet off of the ground... I have to use a stool to get into bed, but he won't use that either.
8. When he gets a bath and has to be blow-dryed (if it's in the winter or it's too cold outside for him to go out and dry off), he refuses to let you dry him off anywhere but in the master bathroom.
9. He doesn't drink out of the toilet (he's only done it once that I know of)... instead, he's obsessed with drinking out of one of the sinks in the master bath. He stands on his hind legs and puts his front paws on the edge of the sink and puts his whole mouth under the running water.
10. He is afraid of stairs. Whenever anyone goes into the basement, he won't follow you down... he stands at the top of the stairs and barks or lays down and waits for you to come back. Exception: when you walk down right beside him and tell him to come on. Catch: Once he gets down in the basement, he won't come back up on his own. No amount of treats, people food, or any other bribes will make him walk back up those stairs on his own. You have to get him to the bottom of the stairs and shove him back up.
11. He's afraid of the dark. He stays outside all day (unless it's raining or really hot or really cold) and he's fine ALL DAY... until it gets dark. Once the sun goes down, he uses any means necessary to make sure you know he wants in.
12. He chews his food. He doesn't gulp it down like the majority of dogs do. We've given him corn on the cob before and he doesn't eat the cob... he bites the corn off of the cob. Tonight he got an ice cream cone... he LICKED the ice cream and took bites of the cone. He eats like a human.
13. He really doesn't bark. He had never barked before Brian and I went on our honeymoon... it was always a wanna-be growl. But we left him at a doggy hotel where he had other doggy friends that liked to bark when we went to Pigeon Forge last October. They taught him to bark. So when we brought him home (he was there for 5 days), he barked at EVERYTHING. But he gradually quit barking again... on his own. Now he only barks if he sees something outside or if there is a tractor nearby.
14. He has his own spot on the couch and God help you if you're sitting in it. That's normally when you get a slobbery toy or bone laid on your lap.
15. When he goes to Petsmart, he picks out which new bone he wants... and he gets it. He also picked out his color leash and his color halter. Both are blue.
But on the other hand, there are many reasons that he is the most awesome dog ever....
Everything I listed above... and more! I don't think we could have asked for a better, more well-mannered dog if we had written down everything we wanted in a pet.
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