Emailing Faux Pas

Yup, I did it.. Sorta like a drunk dial. I was up bright and early yesterday responding and sending emails. Well I screwed up in a huge way. I love my brother in law dearly. For the last months they borrow at least about $100-$300 a month. They always pay me back promptly. Well I was emailing a family member and I the word I used was vulture. Guess what? When the drop down menu hit to give me a list of people to send the email to, I accidentally sent it to him. I got the hurt feelings phone call late last night. Some people say there are no accidents in life. Their household brings in twice as much as mine. My income is totally dependent on how many people I can get to by a $22 steak. So I can't figure out why they must come to me monthly to borrow money. That's all. I feel horrible about hurting his feelings. This is my late husband's brother. Kenny is the one who always warned me about his brother. I appreciate very much how his brother stepped up to the plate when Kenny got sick, but I should be the one borrowing money from them, not the other way around. His wife is on SSI plus gets a settlement check every month. He doesn't work, because he was savvy enough to marry someone who has a nice fixed income. He also collects unemployment. So I just was having a bad morning looking at my finances and it came out. Sometimes I think the subconscious has more control than we know. That was more than a Freudian slip. I really don't have the balls to hurt people's feelings in public unless I am bordering on incensed. So word to the wise, when you send an email, check again to make sure who you are sending it too.

40 +

I am starting to savor being over 40. Especially since I work with a majority of very young girls. Damn it, I feel wise. I listen to young one #1 cry over some boyfriend who is mistreating her, and I continue to listen another 5 months later, same guy, same story. The whole time thanking God it's not me. I watch the commercials on late night television for anti-aging products and just don't get it. Why spend money to defeat the inevitable. I loved every wrinkle and smile line in my late husband's face. Drooping skin and all. He, loved mine. I don't want to be married to Smilin' Bob. I am thankful that my breasts don't point directly to China. There is some perk left. This country is so age obsessed. What is the point? As in everything there is a beginning, middle and finally an end. Why do we refuse to accept what nature has given us? The only personal vanity I concede is I do die my hair, and that is because I have 8 grey hairs, 4 on each side that are very wiry, so I do die them. That is my one vanity. I see women with ridiculously Botoxed lips, breasts that don't naturally bounce. Maybe if I was incredibly rich I would have a different outlook, but I doubt it. I don't like being under a doctors care, and all that surgery etc looks rather painful. Why can't we, especially women, rejoice in who we are, rather than what we look like. Sure, I like to get dressed up sometimes, throw on the war paint and go out. At the end of the day, you shall see me playing with my dog, in cut off shorts and a tank top and a pony tail, watering my flowers. That is me. Also, the older you get, the more set in your ways you become. I doubt I could change the inner me for anyone. The inner self develops at a very young age and basic traits stay with us for the rest of our lives. I just wish I could shake some of the Housewives of Atlanta, New Jersey and Orange County, (you know those shows)and let them know that sometimes they look more beautiful when they aren't trying. The wisdom that comes with age is worth more than any lip injection or breast implant. Yes, appearance does matter in the job market. It should be your resume that speaks, not your puffy lips or silicone breasts. I like the comfort that comes with being 42. I no longer care what the Jone's think. I never did, but now I really don't. I care what my reflection in the mirror tells me about how I am doing, personally and spiritually. I no longer waste my preaching and lectures on these young ones. It is wasted breath. I listen. That is it. I like my age. My main concern seems to be taking my vitamins and walking and staying somewhat healthy. When I lay my head down on my pillow at night, after moving my 85lb dog over, I feel content and blessed for every experience, good and bad, that has shaped and molded me into the person I am today. Plus, I think I would look silly with inflated lips, and what the hell would that accomplish? Relish and rejoice in who you are all you over 40 folks, men and women. We have made it half-way through a very hard journey. That is the real accomplishment to me. Be well, get your colons checked and eat properly. Never lose your sensibilities and keep you minds active at all times. Here is a toast to another 40+.

Bill Hicks - Wikiquote

Bill Hicks - Wikiquote: "'Great Times on Drugs'
That's what I hate about the war on drugs. All day long we see those commercials: 'Here's your brain, here's your brain on drugs', 'Just Say No', 'Why do you think they call it dope?' … And then the next commercial is [singing] 'This Bud's for yooouuuu.' C'mon, everybody, let's be hypocritical bastards. It's okay to drink your drug. We meant those other drugs. Those untaxed drugs. Those are the ones that are bad for you"

Billy Jean and some more shit...

I understand that Michael Jackson has passed away.
What I don't comprehend is all the interest in his death.
Every news magazine and tabloid is all about him.
Yes, I used to enjoy some of his music.
That was pretty much it.
There are plenty of eccentric folks everywhere, so his personal antics,
they never interested me.
Many things of importance are currently going on in this big world of ours.
I just don't know where daily updates on him are that worthy
of print.
Plus, there is all this "shock" at the numerous medications
and presriptions etc.
That is not news folks.
That is what it is.
So now the witch hunt has started for the horrid doctors that prescribed
him everything and anything.
In the end, he was the one who made the choice to ingest any medications.
So to me, he was responsible and only him for taking them.
He drug-seeked and he found.
That just doesn't seem newsworthy on a daily basis.
I want to read about what is going to happen to my healthcare, the housing situation,
anything and everything except about him.
Whatever happened to rest in peace?

Another day, another dollar I hope..

I see the economy getting worse daily everytime I punch in. People are not spending $22.00 for a steak as often as they did even three months ago. They are now ordering off the lunch menu for dinner instead. They are drinking water instead of iced tea or sodas. Requesting extra plates of our complementary bread. I understand it, but at the end of the shift as I count my dollars, understanding it doesn't help when I am trying to buy groceries at Wal-Mart. I watch the young girls with babies that I work with getting excited about their housing vouchers. They are moving into their new two bedroom apartments for $44 a month. The one girl is on baby number two. She gets WIC, Food Stamps etc...What the fuck am I doing wrong in life? The most frustrating thing is these girls all move their "baby's daddy's" into these new $44 a month apartments. These men don't work. Forgive me for being rude, but it almost seems like a reward. Have unprotected sex, get free food and cheap housing. Oh yeah, and continue to live with the idiot that got you pregnant in the first place and he too, can get a cheap roof over his head. Boggles my little mind.

Anger

With the early am. sun I realized I am angry at you.
What? Did you think it would be the same here without you?
Wrong!
You were my buddy to laugh with, you got my Deliverance jokes.
Now I am living the damn movie.
Alone.
There is no one to do "The Happy Dance" with...
The dance we did when the bills were paid and we had a few extra dollars.
Baggy Pants has no one to REALLY talk to.
For some strange reason he thinks you gave better advice.
Go figure.
My mother commented that "I am morose to be around"
Well exscuse fucking me!
I am trying.
I put my makeup on everyday, my happy face and go to work.
I am learning to speak local without sounding sarcastic.
I just wish I knew why I am so angry with you at the strangest times.
Is it because you left me alone and promised never to do that?
I know you didn't do it on purpose, but it still stings.
I am trying, I swear I am, to keep attaining all of our goals.
I will fight the good fight.
I will try to laugh instead of cry.
I will NOT get a confederate flag for the front of "our" house.
Sorry toots...I draw the line there.
I am missing you today.

Strange Days

I must admit to being very lax about blogging these days as I have found three books that I have been reading from cover to cover. It's been awhile that anything has sustained my interest to keep me away from my precious computer. The first book I finished was called Glass, it's a series of books by an author who's own daughter had a horrid struggle with methamphetamine. She also wrote another book called Crank and than there are two others, the one I am reading is about 3 different people in a mental institution, two from addiction, one is a cutter. They are the most realistic books I have read in awhile. The other one I am reading now is from my friend Lou and it is called Cost. I had forgotten the pleasure of being curled up with a nice blanket and a good book. Reading has actually been helping me quite a bit with the blues of life. When I gaze in the mirror I see a 42 year old woman, now a widow, with a teenage son and a mother who is in the beginning stages of dementia. Thank God for the dog. Animals are the best healers at times. So here is to warm fuzzy blankets, good books and warm fuzzy dogs.