“Why Haven’t You Been Blogging As Much?”…

The other day a friend asked me “Why haven’t you been blogging as much? You’re not writing.” Keen observation. Actually, I am writing. I am a writer, we don’t just stop writing. I’ve got over 200 pages that shows I am writing, really. However, I have not felt like posting a whole lot on my blog this month in terms of written material. Why, you might ask? Because, having been raised with manners, I do know when to keep my mouth shut.

What’s bothering me? The hypocrisy of so much, and so many. The lies, the false friends, and a plethora of other bullshit that just rubs me the wrong way, to the point where what I have to say isn’t very nice.

The pain in which I endure on a daily basis has gutted me. I can only fight one battle at a time and my health is taking priority right now, so if my lack of writing has offended someone, sue me.

If I were to say anything, it would be that I have had it up to my eyeballs with the nonsense, with people misinterpreting clear, concise definitions of what I say, and turning it into something ugly when it is not. I am tired of back-handed comments and compliments. I am truly angry with the lack of comprehension amongst people who are supposed to be my friends, yet seem to be on some sort of “save the world” mission. No one needs false friends. No one intelligent, any way. Please stop insulting my intelligence with your false affection and concern. I’d prefer it if you just ignored me completely as opposed to all the bullshit. I don’t need my ass kissed, I don’t need smoke blown up my ass, and I don’t need anything or anyone who is not completely genuine.

Moreover, it really is ok to disagree with me on any given topic. Agreeing is not mandatory, and there is no need to try and relate to me by making it sound like we’re similar. It’s really, truly all right if we are not. I don’t expect anyone to be me, or be like me. The world would be very odd if everyone had the exact same thoughts, feelings, and actions. In fact, at times, it would be quite dangerous.

Also, unless I have solicited advice, I don’t need passive-aggressive comments about anything. I find them so incredibly rude, especially when I see them on my friend’s pages. They might be nice people, but I will tell you to go to hell. Plain and simple.

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In general, I’m sick of the negativity, so I’ve taken some time to cleanse myself of it. I don’t know exactly how much more time I will need, but I hope that no one will see my blog and assume I am not present. I am most certainly present here on an almost daily basis in one form or another, but when it comes to my own written word, I’m just not feeling it right now. I do have a list of subjects I will be presenting in the future, but right now, I need some time to focus on my health. I hope those that do actually care about me will be able to understand and respect that. There are a few that I know care, but I cannot speak for everyone and in truth, I don’t expect people to care about someone they don’t know well enough to be investing much into beyond reading and commenting.

Wishing you all Spring Showers for May Flowers!

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Missing In Action…Of Cats And Men

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I’ve definitely been ‘Missing In Action’ for a bit, and for that I apologize. This is a particularly difficult time of year for me to start with, made harder by the fact that I’m going through some unhappy things in my daily life, and to add insult to injury, I am coming down with something. The severe temperature drop after the second round of snow hit me like a ton of bricks, and we’re about to get more snow. I was so completely out of it for a while, and I’m slowly trying to get myself back to a place of not wanting to sleep 18 hours a day. Top that off with the fact that I am showing signs of severe allergy to my kitten (Shh,. don’t tell her, she’d be heartbroken.)! The allergic reaction is slowly starting to heal, and I am praying that’s ALL it was, though I strongly suspect she was not fully treated for something at the shelter and I caught it. Lucky me! Who knew how many weird things could be passed from cat to human?! Normally I’m the one calling my vet to make sure I can’t accidentally give the cat whatever I happen to have. Setting aside the fact that I suffer from migraines and Fibromyalgia, I am actually pretty healthy, but every once in a while something weird rears its ugly head and knocks me out for a while. I have wanted to do nothing, but sleep and rest my pained body this week.

On an entertaining note, I get a phone call at 4:30 this morning from an, as yet, unidentified male in my life. I want to sell him on Ebay at this point, especially after this morning’s antics.

I have been utterly hounded by this person for the past three and a half days over what they should or should not wear to a job interview. How many times can one try on a suit for me with different shirts after I have repeatedly said “Solid white or cream colored shirt. Solid colored tie.” That’s the most simple, direct instruction in the world, right? With a black pinstripe suit, too many additional lines is overkill, yes?

At exactly 10:45 this morning, while I was sleeping no less, a striped white shirt and striped tie were unceremoniously shoved in my face with the question “These are good, right?” Why the fuck did you ask me AT ALL if you were just going to do what you usually do, which is NOT LISTEN?! I responded by saying, not in my most polite of tones, “I said to get a plain shirt and a solid colored tie. I said it repeatedly. What part of that did you not understand? By the way, I am SLEEPING. I will deal with you later.” I might have even said “Get the fuck out of my face right now.”, which is about as kind as I can be when you’re disrupting my sleep with nonsense that could have waited until I was my normal, functioning self. I admit, my “normal, functioning self” isn’t the textbook version of “normal”, but hey, he knows me well enough to know NOT to pull these stunts.

Men, I am going to give you severely important advice right now, so listen closely. Do not EVER ask a woman if she’s “on her period” simply because she doesn’t give you a sweet, loving response on no sleep. I’m not your mother. I do not have to pick out your clothes for you, wipe your ass, change your diaper, or anything else a mother would do for you. I am also NOT a bitch simply because you chose the wrong time to approach me with what is somehow SO unbelievably important that you feel the need to call me at 4:30 in the morning, later agreeing that I should go with you in a day or two to pick out the shirt and tie so that you will look nice, and then getting a hair up your ass and doing the wrong thing, only to wake me with said items about four inches from my face. The lines were so distracting, I’ve never seen a cat take off so fast in my life! She was laying here so innocently getting her beauty rest when, she too, is barraged by fashion. I haven’t seen the poor thing since!

In all honesty, I think she’s still scarred from the hour or so she spent in the laundry room this morning after my 4:30 phone call. I warned her not to follow me, I even shooed her out of the room several times as I was putting my stuff into the dryer. I went back to what I was doing after that, but about 40 minutes later, I couldn’t find her. I walked around calling for her, because she comes trotting in my direction from wherever she may have been or goes flying after me when she hears my voice. She doesn’t respond so much to her name, as she does to the fact that she hears me and knows she is being summoned to follow when she hears me say “Where’s Mommy’s baby? I can’t find you.” Or she just hears my voice and comes running for the sake of getting to run around like a hell hound, who knows.

Now normally, I don’t go back into the laundry room once the dryer is finished because I know my stuff is dry and these particular items did not need to be folded or require any immediate after care. I only went in because I’d washed one of my football jackets and wanted to be 100% sure that sucker was dry. I didn’t want to have to re-wash it because I walked away too quickly. Mind you, this little baby is still very small and does not have a real voice yet. She has a barely audible squeak, and you only hear it if she does it right at you or you are really quiet and happen to hear her voicing her issues, whatever those issues may be at any given moment. I opened the door and she came flying out, running into my arms for warmth and safety. The laundry room is the only unheated room in the house. My guess is that is the case because it was added on to the house, and is not a part of the original structure. This is precisely why I didn’t want her in there to begin with. There’s always something dangerous that someone so tiny can get into, and by the way she has been following me around since “the ordeal”, I’m praying she learned her lesson and will never do that again. I spent the entire time calling for her and honestly thought she was under the bed or in another room ignoring me, as she is wont to do at times. As loving, needy, sweet, playful, and affectionate as she is, she is also an independent seeker of trouble. I say “No!” roughly 100 times a day, or more. Now that I think about it, it’s similar to how I talk to unidentified male. Coincidence? I think NOT. On the plus side, at least she’s civilized.

Lately…

Lately I have found myself on the receiving end of a lot of preaching. One of the first things anyone should know about me is that I am 100% unpreachable. I’m completely unreceptive to it, especially when the approach is so obnoxiously aggressive, and almost negative in some respects. I am not, nor have I ever been, a Bible Thumper. I respect difference of religion so long as one’s beliefs are not being shoved down my throat and recited to me as Gospel, but I will not respect, accept, or allow someone to be disrespectful to me or anyone that reads this blog.

I make my own decisions, my own choices. I live by a specific code, and nobody tells me what to do, think, say, feel, or how to be. There’s no one controlling me. I believe in freedom of speech (Though I can honestly say that some people need to have the right revoked, simply for taking it WAY TOO FAR! And I mean that in the sense that their idea of “freedom of speech” is sick, not helpful or thought-provoking.), in the right to bear arms, in the right to practice whatever religion you choose, so long as you aren’t harming anyone, in the right to love whoever you choose, and I’m a firm believer that when you are trying to seek help for yourself in ANY way, you should be treated with dignity, respect, kindness, compassion, and empathy. If a person cannot at least be polite & professional, then they need to find another line of work if their job means dealing with people or the public on a daily basis.

One of the most important things I learned as a writer, and in business, and this was literally day one, is that not everyone you encounter is going to like you, and that you have to accept that. I don’t like more than half of the people I encounter in this world, but I still believe in having manners and being respectful. I still believe in holding doors for people, in assisting one with directions if they are lost, and in general, not being an asshole. I’m completely intolerant when it comes to the many varieties of assholes in this world, and there are so many, it’s unreal.

Whenever I mention an aspect of religion on this blog, it is by no means coming from a “Live as I live” point of view. I am not telling anyone what to think or believe. It’s coming from a “This is my story, and I’m going to tell it the way I want to tell it.” perspective. We all have different beliefs, and that’s exactly how it should be. Differences make the word go ’round. We all have a unique point of view, and so many of us have amazing gifts and stories to share with the world. I have an immense amount of respect for that, and for the individuals I speak with on a regular basis.

If you visit my blog, please respect others that also visit. Some people think they have the right to comment on other people’s comments, but I don’t feel that way. If a comment is left for me, then I am going to answer it. If a comment is left for someone else, that’s a whole different ball game, but again, I encourage respect. I have deleted some things I felt were inappropriate and/or disrespectful for a number of reasons.

At the end of the day, this may be a public blog that anyone can stumble upon and read, but I will always get the final say in the material in which I allow my readers to be subjected to. If anyone is ever bothered by something, come to me directly and I will do whatever needs doing to correct it. If you find that you dislike me or my approach, there’s an Unfollow button. Use it if you choose, I know I do.

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Spring In The Yard

Spring Is In Pre-Bloom

Yesterday morning, as I was coming down the stairs, I noticed a lump under the grass in the backyard. My first thought was “Did that get pulled out of the ground during the last wind storm?” My second thought was “It’s March, it’s probably a bunny.” Yup, a little Mama moved into my yard and made herself a nest. This was an assurance because as I was thinking it, she moved, and that let me know she was there for a reason. When I went upstairs last night she was roaming the yard for food, and I haven’t seen her since, but I know she’s preparing to give birth, thus the nesting.

I thought about how most animals are single parents right after conception, pretty much, and I am totally cool with her hanging out and giving birth here. I knew it was something that might happen eventually, as last year around this time (especially with warmer temperatures and very little snow), the bunnies were out very early and for a few months I’d have between 6-8 in my yard at a time. Sometimes they’d be cuddled up together in little packs at night, but for the most part it was usually “the single gals”. You knew if a male came into the yard, because the girls would take off like a bat out of hell. “Closed for business jackass!” should have been a sign in my yard last Spring between the bunnies and the cats, seriously.

I really don’t use the yard, probably because I’m a city girl at heart, and the largest amount of grass in New York City is Central Park. I’m not from Manhattan, but I’m not from upstate New York either, so “The City” is “The City” if you’re from any of the Five Boroughs, which I am.

For some people, living in the suburbs (especially if you have children) is the ultimate goal/dream. Yards, wide open spaces, and for some people it gives them a feeling of security that nothing bad will happen to them or their family, since they are now far away enough from the metropolitan area, which to most people means “more crime”. For me, it was the right decision at the right time, it’s generally a pretty quiet neighborhood, and if I remain here once I get married and start a family (or once I become a mother, seeing as how I believe we have the right to decide what is right for us. If you can swing being a single parent, and you desperately want children, then you have the right to do it, so long as you aren’t harming anyone.), there’s a highly rated school district for my children to go to, which would make sense since I pay an outrageous amount in taxes to the school district any way.

But as a transplant, my lawn is what it is. It’s open space. I don’t have that OCD suburban need to mow it twice a week. I can’t garden to save my life, though if someone showed me how to do it right and how to get it to actually thrive, I would love a nice vegetable and herb garden. I think that’s fabulous if you’re able to maintain it and live off your own growth process, so to speak. Alas, I can’t keep bamboo alive after a few years, so I’m really not sure if a garden would be my thing for the long haul. It’s a great, calming hobby if you have a gift with plants and flowers and like being outside in the sun, but maybe it’s too outdoorsy for me. I have no idea, other than the fact that it would require a lot more sunscreen than I already wear.

So for now, since we’re in “Spring Forward” mode (Which is totally screwing with me!), I am totally cool with the bunnies doing their thing and keeping the circle of life going, even if it is in my yard. They can have it, but if they stay for more than a few months I’m going to have to ask them to start making monthly contributions to my mortgage.