Stand and Sip is Poaching

Woke up late this morning. Turned the alarm OFF instead of hitting SNOOZE. Ugh. Hustled my assets and got ready for work quicker than Superman changes in a phone booth, and headed to QT for my morning Stryofoam cup of liquid personality. Normally I’m there around 7am but due to failing at the SNOOZE button, I find myself there closer to 7:30am. My God Thelma!! The clientele between 7 and 7:30 is drastically different!!

Let’s begin with the parking lot. At 7am, it’s mostly construction workers and lawn care company trucks with the random security guard that just got done with night shift. And me. We are professionals at navigating the parking lot. Synchronized. Smooth. Flawless. We are there to get in, get our beloved jewels of carb loaded breakfast treats and 2 gallon vats of fountain goodness, and get right back out and hit the road.

Step inside my pretty. This morning I walked in behind what I’m guessing was a 16 year old girl (based on the fact that she was driving alone in a car) who moved at a drugged out snail’s pace. She literally stepped inside the door and stopped to check her phone. I almost knocked her over when I came through the door like Kool-Aid Man! Since when did walking into Quik Trip mean you needed to update your social media?

Moving on while grumbling under my breath, I made a beeline for the fountain. I see an older gentleman standing there with his pants hovering somewhere near the middle of his ass crack, ear hair sticking out like a freshly starched shirt from all angles, his dirty boots silently dropping piles of dried mud all over the floor. He held his cup under the Rooster Booster, filled it. Sipped off the top. Filled it again. Sipped again. Filled it again. I’m not an overly patient person, especially in the morning not to mention I’m already late, so I gently tap my flip flopped foot and gently jingle my car keys. It doesn’t register. Cue the audible sigh. I moved in a little closer and reached around to grab my cup out of the dispenser with a polite, “Excuse me.” He continues the sipping and refilling. I’m thinking, “If you want to poach Rooster Booster, please step aside or scootch over to the coffee counter….those folks are still heavy lidded and probably won’t notice you standing there.” It’s rude and bad manners to poach off the fountain, especially when there’s a line waiting behind you.

Drink in hand, I move to the donut case. There’s a Mom standing there with two little ones eyeballing the selection with glossy eyes and drool sliding down their chins. She’s giving the kiddos dissertation on what each donut is and you can see their confusion. They just want a donut lady!! Pick one and keep moving! I finally get mine and head for the cashier counter. At least she knows what she’s doing and she rings me in and out before I can even blink. That’s what I’m talking about!

I retreat to my vehicle and sit holding my prized treasures reminding myself to be nice and think nice thoughts. Hmm. Easier said than done my friends.

poacher

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You Smell Like a Valentine’s Day Card!

The FedEx man just made a delivery to our office. We have a standing joke about whether or not the package is flowers or chocolate (it’s neither; it’s always HVAC parts) but we laugh and carry on. Today he delivered a box that very well could have been flowers and as soon as he sat it down on my desk he said, “Don’t get too excited, I’m pretty sure it’s not flowers although it sure looks like it could be.” I signed for the package and started to get up to take it back to the service department when I noticed him standing at the door with a troubled look on his face. I stopped and looked at him and asked, “Everything ok?” He replied, “I bet you’ll get all kinds of flowers and gifts next week for Valentine’s Day. You are absolutely beautiful.”

Um. Wow! That escalated quickly! Let me preface by saying there is absolutely NO attraction on my end but that comment totally caught me off guard. My face had to be blushing like a fine wine! Normally I shake off a flattering comment like that from a stranger or anyone for that matter, but it really hung on me this time. Why? He went on out the door and I shrugged it off, no big deal. Regardless, it got me to thinking…

Is Valentine’s Day important? Do you show your significant other that you love them only on that one day a year? When you see the gal in the office getting huge bouquets of flowers do you think she’s loved more than the next gal? The guy I’ve been sharing my life with for the past 16 months tells me all the time, “Every day is Valentine’s Day.” Most of the time he proves it. By no means do I feel the need to have to be spoiled on that particular day…I’ll gladly take several days throughout the month for my man to spoil me but a token of some sort on the actual day would be welcomed, even if it’s just a card. Or a bag of Peanut M&M’s.

Just a few weeks ago we were getting dressed to go out for dinner and drinks when he walked back to the bathroom after I had just sprayed on my foo-foo juice (aka perfume). He got a big smile on his face, rolled his eyes, came up and hugged me, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and said, “You smell like a Valentine’s Day card! Yum!” Let’s assume that’s a good thing! He cooks for me/us on a very regular basis and I’m not talking about Hamburger Helper here folks. I’m talking about made from scratch tater tot casserole, cavatini, chicken fried steak with garlic mashed potatoes with all the fixins and chicken marsala just to name a few. If we are sitting on the couch watching a movie and he gets up to go to the kitchen or bathroom, he will ask me every single time if he can bring me back anything. He shares the blanket, he lets me put my cold toes under his thigh when we’re on the couch watching tv, he opens doors, he scoops my ice cream first, he does laundry, he always asks me how my day was, he flushes, he makes the bed, he’s constantly asking what I’d like to do over the weekend and he even grocery shops with me. THOSE are the things that show love to me. When I had to struggle through the death of a friend who committed suicide last week, he was right there beside me. Granted, I was a helluva hot mess trying to cope with my own feelings as well as helping my friend’s wife and two kids who were left to pick up the pieces. I was on the phone endlessly. Crying constantly. He was right there.

I don’t need flowers or candy on February 14th. I need to be shown love every single day. For me, it’s not about the big flashy displays but more about the little (which are really big) heartfelt things that happen regularly. Is he perfect all the time? Hell no. Neither am I.  He’s my Clyde and I’m his Bonnie.

Whatever your personal thoughts are regarding Valentine’s Day, I hope you feel loved, valued, appreciated and special every day.

Drowning Outside The Bottle

You asked me last night if I loved you. I said, “With all my heart.” You then asked me if I thought you loved me.  You didn’t think I answered fast enough and you got up and walked out while mumbling, “Well, I guess that’s my answer.” Did you even hear my answer? Probably not. This is just one more instance where you only hear what you want to hear….especially when drinking.

We were supposed to sit down and talk about us. It’s really kind of sad too – you don’t seem to think there is an “us” anymore, however, we never really get around to talking about us – we always talk about you. You pick out all the negatives on a daily basis and remind me of them constantly. Being in a relationship means there should be communication from both sides. I ask too many questions, you ask absolutely none. In my book, questions and inquiries indicates an interest in wanting more information because it matters or because one cares. When there are no questions or concerns, it means there is no interest.

Every time we sit down to talk, you have to have a drink. Not one. Not two. All of them. It’s no wonder we never get anything accomplished. You’ve said yourself you don’t remember what happened, let alone any conversation (including promises and intentions) from the night before. Guess what? I remember every single word. I remember every single tear. I remember every single promise. I remember every single stumble. Last night you said that we’ve had talks about us during the week, without a drink. I strongly disagree. When asked for a specific instance you couldn’t name even one topic of discussion we’d had about “us” during the week.

What I’ve learned is that when you drink, you’ll freely tell me that you love me and offer more hugs and kisses than normal. I’m absolutely saddened to my core that I’ve allowed myself to stay with someone that can only tell me they love me when they’re in the bottom of a bottle. I never in a million years would have envisioned my life that way. I would never wish that for my daughter and if my boys were doing that to the woman they loved, I’d beat their ass myself. It’s kind of ironic that I sat in a booth exactly one week ago at dinner with a friend who was having similar issues and I was the one giving her advice. I told her how special she was and how she didn’t deserve what he was handing out. The mean words, the harsh touch, the mind games…..all things that the sober person remembers and plays over in their mind day after day after day. Apologies can’t fix that. She agreed with me and knew changes needed to be made. Well….we know where that all ended, we buried him yesterday.  It scares the absolute shit out of me to think that could be us someday. I know you say you’re stronger than that and too selfish, but I disagree. You are weak. You are broken. You are sick. But see, when people are sick, they go to the doctor and get medicine. If they have cancer, they get chemo treatment. If they have a broken leg, they get it casted and fixed. Once they begin healing they take baby steps to build back up their strength and endurance. As any good athlete knows, rebuilding after an injury is critical. Making smarter choices, doing small positive things on a daily basis, eating right, avoiding potential hazards and most of all believing they will get better and stronger!

I see you. I hear you. I feel you. Contradict all you want, but I know your choices and decisions before you do. Am I going to call you out on them if I feel they’re not the best choice for you? Abso-freaking-lutely. That’s what friends do. They tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. The truth hurts. You have this new-found interest in Brad all of a sudden. What the Hell? You honestly think it’s in your best interest to go see an old friend after umpteen years of not seeing each other, on a Thursday night at midnight no less….after you’re shit faced drunk? Really? Childish. And wow, what an impression that would leave with him. Can you just hear him sharing that with old friends back home? “Dude. My buddy came to see me and it was sad to see. He couldn’t even stand up straight. Same old same old, just like his old man.” I can only imagine what all your bitches whores girls think when you hit them up at all hours of the night via text, Snap or Messenger. “Awesome. He’s drinking again. Chat with him for a few minutes. Tell him everything that’s wrong in my life so he feels like he’s needed and like a valiant knight in shining armor, he saved the day.” Don’t forget to send a little selfie in my underwear, he likes that, and I know he’ll send me a pic back of himself flexing in the mirror or from the work truck. Grow up.

Let’s talk about money. After several drinks you’re quick to remind me that you’ll give me your last dime. After all, I’ve provided a roof over year head, transportation, food, lights, heat, water, TV etc for more than a year. Funny thing is….when we fight, you always want it back so you can turn and run. You’re very quick to drop the “I’m out of here” comment. Just stop. You have nowhere to go. You know it. I know it. Your threats don’t work with me. I don’t even feel sorry for you anymore. You throw it up in my face regularly that you pay for “everything”. Giving me $200 towards my $900+ rent and handing over $50 for a phone bill, isn’t even a drop in the bucket. Yes, you’ve helped more with groceries lately and I thank you for that. If we go out to dinner, you rarely pay….if you do, you give me cash for YOUR portion of the meal and I still pay for my own. That’s all fine and good but don’t tell me that you pay for everything when we go out. Yes, I’ve got my bank information to prove it. You like to throw it up in an argument that I never have any money. No, I don’t make enough money to support the both of us and our current spending. You are making just about as much as I am and you’re giving me maybe $300 total in a month. Where is the rest of it? You’re always on me about a budget….where is yours? To be fair, let’s write it all down and see where our money really goes. Fair enough?

I guess what this all boils down to is what needs to happen moving forward. Rehashing and reliving the past is your favorite thing to do, not mine. I prefer to look forward. I’ve told you on more than one occasion that I want a man who thinks so highly of me that he couldn’t imagine entertaining another female, even in idle chit chat, let alone full conversation and pictures back and forth. I want a man that can’t keep his hands off of me….couch cuddling, a touch on the leg, hand holding, kisses, hugs and yes, sex. Possession. Passion. I want a man that wants everyone to know that I’m his and he couldn’t be more proud to have me. I want to be told that I’m loved. I want to be shown in ways that matter to ME. I want the mid-afternoon flirty text or pic that says he’s thinking about me and can’t wait until we get home.  (And I want that text or pic to be sent to only me, not a standard one that all the roadkill vultures get.) I want the random notes left on the bathroom mirror. I want to make plans together for the weekend and I want them to happen – sober. I want him to make plans for a few months away…short trips somewhere (back home, Wyoming, Ft. Scott), whatever. I want to hear him tell his friends and family how much I mean to him and that he honestly couldn’t imagine not having me by his side. I want to be included. I want to be wanted.

This is the real world and I know I can’t have everything I want. That’s fair. Even if I got half, it would be better. There is always give and take but it can’t be one sided all the time. I can’t, and won’t, walk on eggshells every night and day depending upon your attitude. I will not fight against the bottle – that is a battle I will never win. I will not fight against your war stories. I will not fight against all the other bitches whores girls vying for your attention. I deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy. If we aren’t doing that for each other, there is no need to move on any further. I do love you, with every piece of my heart and mind. I’m going to ask one more question: Do you love me enough?

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Learn it!

It’s ironic who the folks are that post this image claiming to be so respected and feared that no one would dare approach them and share their true feelings.  Oh yeah?   Is that how it works?  I find it inherently funny that a two-faced-buck-toothed-lying-cheating-bitch posted it and then sat for an evening and proceeded to talk about me behind my back.

What I thought was a good friend, although there’d been some tension over the past couple of months, and her gaggle of girls bitches went to the bar for Thirsty Thursday.  One could have expected shenanigans (you know, Mom’s who don’t get out very often) with all the tagging on Facebook and hootin and hollerin’ but these ho’s took it to Expert level real quick.  Mind you these ladies bitches are in their upper 30s and all of them have small children at home.

The image was posted and comments started flowing like wine.  The topic was about me although I have no idea what I’d done to spark such interest with a group that collectively decided I was worth their breath on their precious night out.  Really? **swoon**  I’m flattered that lil ol me could possibly mean so much!!  I scrolled.  And scrolled.  Reading and reading.  Getting more and more agitated – no, strike that – I was getting downright PISSED.  I wanted to fight back! I  wanted to defend myself.  I wanted to point out all their faults.  I wanted to be just as mean, if not meaner.  But I didn’t.  It wasn’t about the high road for me this time, it was about fighting back and standing up for myself.   Revenge was welling up in my veins and I was about to explode.  Hell hath no fury and my eyes were seeing red!     I was not about to roll over and be the bigger person.  I wanted revenge!!  I wanted to cut their throats out with a rusty knife and leave them gasping for air with downright fear in their eyes.

What did I do?  I took screenshots of the entire post.  I’m pretty sure this bitch is going to need me before I need her and I’ll be sure and remind her of this conversation.  My days of bending over backwards for her are OVER.  She wants respect?  No problem.  I’m more than happy to face her and have this conversation but she won’t respond to my texts or phone calls to get together on neutral ground and talk it out.  Hmmm.  Chicken shit.  Go back to Junior High and think about your sorry ass life.  Take your herd of nerds with you too.  You all deserve each other.  Oh yeah….better check your friends list again because I know for a fact that you lost a few mutual ones we had in common since you wanted to act like a 12 year old.  Congratulations!

It’s RESPECT.  Learn it.

re·spect

rəˈspekt/
noun
noun: respect
  1. 1.
    a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.
    “the director had a lot of respect for Douglas as an actor”
    synonyms: esteem, regard, high opinion, admiration, reverence, deference, honor

    “the respect due to a great artist”
    antonyms: contempt
    • the state of being admired or respected.
      “his first chance in over fifteen years to regain respect in the business”
    • due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights, or traditions of others.
      plural noun: respects
      respect for human rights”
      synonyms: due regard, politeness, courtesy, civility, deference

      “he spoke to her with respect”
      antonyms: disrespect
    • a person’s polite greetings.
      plural noun: respects
      “give my respects to your parents”
  2. 2.
    a particular aspect, point, or detail.
    “the government’s record in this respect is a mixed one”
    synonyms: aspect, regard, facet, feature, way, sense, particular, point, detail

    “the report was accurate in every respect”
verb
verb: respect; 3rd person present: respects; past tense: respected; past participle: respected; gerund or present participle: respecting
  1. 1.
    admire (someone or something) deeply, as a result of their abilities, qualities, or achievements.
    “she was respected by everyone she worked with”
    synonyms: esteem, admire, think highly of, have a high opinion of, hold in high regard, hold in (high) esteem, look up to, revere, reverence, honor

    “she is highly respected in the book industry”
    antonyms: despise

 

Embers Are Still Hot

You were supposed to be the one who had my back. My soft place to fall. A sounding board, a vent, an outlet. Today you took that privilege and ripped it to shreds, threw it on the ground and walked away. To say I trusted you was an understatement.

Of all the people who could possibly hurt someone, it hurts most when it’s family. The cut is deeper, the bleeding takes longer to stop, the stitches are stretched beyond belief and rehab is a joke. Lesson learned. You wonder why I have trust issues? Let’s see; 2 failed marriages to people I was supposed to believe in (they both lied), friends have come and gone, issues in my job with co-workers and unfair treatment, the court system has failed on more than one account and now you decide to add fuel to the fire that never really went out. Yeah, those embers will get you every time. During all of those life changing events I leaned on you, and I leaned hard. After today that all comes to an end. I’m done being judged by you. You are entitled to your opinion, absolutely, however that doesn’t give you the right to condemn me for MY choices. If you aren’t mature enough to agree to disagree, then it’s obvious that we’re on different wavelengths. I refuse to be a part of your small mindedness, your forked tongue and oh yeah, that high horse you’re riding on. Tuck and roll – it’s a big fall. No thanks. You can have it. Your time is coming. Hell will release a fury so deep on your heart and soul that it’ll make your fingernails bleed. You’ll be looking for someone just to listen, to care. There will be no one because you’ve pushed them all away with your attitude towards others. The sad thing? I’ll probably be right there to catch you, to hold you, to listen to you…all without judgement and “I told you so’s”. Best Wishes.

No Virgins Here

My virgin post on this blogging roller coaster has me feeling hesitant and nauseated.  I’m strapped in tight but still feeling like I could throw up at any moment.  Not sure what to expect.  I carefully check that my cell phone is safely stowed in my bra, my ponytail is pulled tight, sunglasses are so firmly stuck to my face they resemble a snorkel mask (and will likely leave the same type of marks) and I take a look around me….there’s no else on this ride.  I’m alone with my thoughts.  PANIC!  I attempt to unlatch the safety belt holding me hostage and it won’t budge.  No attendant in sight.  Just me.  Alone.   

What should I write about?  What if you don’t agree with my opinions?  What if no ones reads my stuff!?!?!?!  What if I offend someone or lose friends because of my rants?  What if….what if….what if….

WHOA. WHOA. WHOA.  Pump the brakes!!  Breathe.  Unclench your teeth and fingers.  Relax.  That feels better.  Let me adjust here a minute – don’t look.  (I sit up a little straighter, pull my underwear out of my ass, adjust sunglasses and pull my ponytail tight again.  There.  That’s better.)  Ok.  Here we go.

I’ve been mulling over the idea of a blog for a while now.  Why?  Because I have something to say and no one ever listens to me.  I constantly find myself staring back at people that I gave advice to (after being asked my opinion of course!) with a deer-in-the-headlights look while trying to graciously accept their apology for not listening to me in the first place.   Granted, there are no fancy letters behind my name – I’m not a Doctor.  Hell, I’m not even a Butcher, Baker or Candlestick Maker either but I’ve been on this Earth long enough to know a thing or two about a thing or two.  If I don’t know…I’ll straight up tell you so you can go bark up another tree.  When you ask me for advice, be very open to what I am saying and if you don’t really want my advice, then don’t ask for it.  Period.  I’m looking forward to publishing some of my thoughts on different issues and I’m very interested in hearing your feedback. 

To sum things up for my maiden post here, let me close with saying this is not my first rodeo, I may or may not tell you the complete truth until I know you’re vested in the reality of the situation, I’m so honest it’s brutal, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings intentionally but it happens, I will not tolerate hateful comments or people, you can not make me do anything I don’t want to do (I don’t care if all the cool kids are doing it), and as negative as it seems I can be with that honesty….I love just as much if not more.  I’m a Capricorn.  No further explanation needed.  🙂