Opinions. Everyone has an asshole.

*DISCLAIMER:  I'll be using the word 'opinion' about seventy-eleven times in this particular post.  If you don't like other people's 'opinion' then you should probably exit stage left right now.  This whole post is about ME and MY 'opinion', so please be aware that you've been properly warned.

Now let me open a Miller Lite and get to it.

I've hurt people online with my opinions.  I'm not sorry for that, because I had no intention of hurting anyone by not agreeing with them.  I didn't attack anyone.  I didn't offer anything other than my own opinion.  I will never feel bad for feeling like I do on any given subject. I'm too old for that shit.  I've had too many people in real life who tried to get me to conform  to their ideas.  Not gonna happen.  I do what I want and say what I want.  You don't agree with me, that's cool.  I don't agree with you, and that should be cool with you.

"Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one."


I don't have a lot of fucks to give these days.  I'm busy with life.  I don't wish anyone harm, and I don't wish anyone sadness.  I don't like it when I see someone who's going through a hard time because I've been through a ton of hard times myself.  I can promise you that if I give my opinion on any given subject it's because it's a very important subject to me.  I have no underlying motive, either.

I believe in the things that I believe in, and you believe in the things that you believe in.  That's cool with me.  I don't give a shit.  No matter what you say, or how many times you explain yourself, I won't be changing my stance on something if it's my own personal conviction.  I'll listen and respect your take on any certain subject respectfully, but it's highly unlikely that a disagreement will change my mind.  Internet trolls be damned.  I feel this way for a fucking reason.  You can explain yourself until you're blue in the face.  You can play like my opinion hurts your feelings if you want. My opinion is MINE.  My opinion is just as important as anyone else's.  Yours is important to you and mine is important to me.  Just because I have an opinion different from yours doesn't mean that you're being attacked or belittled.  On the contrary.  If you feel attacked or singled out by someone else's opinion then you should probably change shoes, as it doesn't have anything to do with me.

"If the shoe fits, wear it."


When someone posts something that not everyone agrees with, there are bound to be disagreements.  Especially if it's something controversial.  But looking at a certain person in a negative way just because they don't think exactly like you doesn't make you a victim. You're not a victim of internet bullying just because someone doesn't like what you said, or your grammar, or your parenting skills, or anything else you may claim.  You can't pull the victim/bully card just because someone doesn't like you or they disagree with you.  You don't have the power to change another person's mind.  Maybe you saw that you could have been able to make more of an effort to better your own situation and got your feelings hurt.  No one is responsible for your feelings or actions but you.  What I do online is my business, just like what you do online is your business.  When I ask for opinions, I expect a variety of opinions.  I don't care if someone doesn't agree with me.  I don't get angry when someone doesn't agree with me, either.  When I share my opinion I'm just doing it where it's appropriate, where opinions of varying degree are welcomed or asked for.  Unless I call your name then you're not the one I'm talking about.  Get over yourself.  You're not that important to me.  I've got way too many things on my mind to be caring if you agree or not.  If you don't agree, you're welcome to state your opinion just like I am and move on.  That's how most grown ups do it, anyway.

"Ain't nobody got time for that."


We all have busy lives with our own household to run.  The 'poor me' attitude of someone who feels attacked by a difference of opinion is a thing of the past.  I don't run around the internet trying to put other people down.  I don't think I'm better than another person who I may or may not know.  I don't discriminate against any soul that dwells on this Earth.  We're all facing our own demons.  I care about living and letting someone else live.  I don't care what you're going through, I'll respect you until you disrespect me.  You're no different than I am.  We're all struggling to have a happy life no matter what circumstances we've been dealt.  I feel empathy when I can, and sympathy for those that deserve it.

"We're all the same inside."


If I offer advice it's because I've been through some shit.  It's because I know a little bit about the lessons I've learned in MY life.  It's an opinion.  You can take it.  You can leave it.  You can get your panties in a bunch and show your ass all over the interwebs, it doesn't matter to me.  It doesn't matter to your audience, either.  If you set out to hurt someone over YOUR butthurt, then you'll only be hurting yourself.  You can't make people stick around and enjoy you if you're always dragging up shit that hurt your feelings.  Doing that only makes people run away from you.  If you want people to like you, then you should at least be likable.  Most likeable people aren't whiny little pussies, in MY opinion.

"Only the strong survive."


You could have a different opinion than I have about anything from the most comfortable socks or undies we wear, to religion and politics and parenting.  I don't care what your opinion is, it still won't change mine.  That doesn't mean that you have a license to pull the 'I'm being bullied' card.  It means we don't agree, there's nothing wrong with not being in agreement with someone.   Leave it as a disagreement, move on, and let shit go.  If some people can agree to just disagree then those people are the ones who are taking the higher road.  No harm, no foul.  Disagreements should never be the reason for a shit-storm.

"Let's just agree to disagree."


Time for this old Hussy to step outside of the crazy and maybe drink another beer.  Who's with me?

What Friendship Means To Me. #FriendshipRevolution

Photo courtesy of Alone At Dawn

Alone At Dawn on Facebook

When thinking of what I want or expect in a true friend, it's not very complicated.  I have only a handful of real life friends that I actually spend physical time with, and I'm okay with that.  I'm weird when it comes to spending time with people.  I'm not very trusting when it comes to allowing people into my everyday life.  I've been burned so many times by people that were supposed to be my friend that I eventually just shut out most people.  I'm at a place in life where it doesn't really matter if someone visits me on a regular basis, if they like me or if they don't, or about trying to impress anyone.  I love my true friends with a fierce passion and would go to the ends of the Earth to help them if I'm in a position to do so.  When I see them or talk to them, nothing has changed in my eyes.  We just pick up where we left off.  No fuss.  Simple.

HunnyMan and I chillin' on a backroad

My very best friend is my HunnyMan.  He knows how I tick, and still makes fun of me, and still loves being around me, and doesn't give a fuck if I want to be quiet or want to be loud.  He accepts me as I am in pretty much any situation and we have fun together.  Whether we're messing around in the yard, just hanging out in our recliners, doing the dirty in the bedroom, or any mundane chore that must be done we love being together.  Some nights he has to beg me to play Monopoly, (because that game sucks since they've figured out how to beat me) but we laugh.  Being a friend that I can laugh with is awesome.

I have a close neighbor, who I can't name because she doesn't do the internet thing, who brings her kids over from time to time and we've gotten pretty close.  We'll call her 'Suzy Q' just for kicks.  She reminds me of a Suzy Q.  So, her two girls are ten and seven.  Lil Dump loves when they come over here or we go over there.  HunnyMan is friends with Suzy Q's husband so it makes for a good match.  We all win in this situation.  Suzy Q and I get to hang out, the kids get to make memories, and the men even get some much needed man therapy.  The thing about Suzy Q and I is that we are both on the same page when it comes to socializing.  We keep our circle small because we're both total weirdo's.  That's good for both of us.  We always enjoy hanging out together.  We have a lot in common.  We're both country ass hicks who drink beer and mess around in the woods.  We both wear boots and love riding around on ATV'S, and shit.  We both make our kids mind and teach them the way we were taught.  We both are total bitches and make fun of each other for being total bitches.  See what I mean?  Being a friend who has something in common with me is awesome.

Rissa and I.  This was a fun day!

I've got a friend who I rarely see anymore.  Not because we live too far apart, but because life gets in the way.  She's my girl, she helps me look out for nonsense in the one group that I started years ago, and she's fucking amazing.  She even helped me move some shit one time when I was down and out and had no one else.  She's one of those friends who are loyal to the end of the world.  She pretty much has it all.  The laughs, the love, the common denominators, the loyalty, and she get's my sarcasm.  I love you, Rissa!

My 19 year old, Me, and Mama

I'm friends with my Mama.  No need to explain that one.  She gives the best advice.  I'm friends with my little Sister and Brother.  We always have a lot of giggles when we're around each other.  I'm friends with my 19 year old.  I may ride her ass from time to time, but for the most part she's my friend now that she's grown.  Being friends with my family feels pretty damn good.  I also have family in Georgia that I still feel very close to thanks to social media.  They may not be my blood relatives, but they're a part of me, nonetheless. 

Speaking of social media and the sentiment of my family being part of my friendship circle brings me to my internet friends.  I've met some extraordinary people online.  Some of them know more about me than I know about myself.  No, seriously, some of them do know more than I care to divulge anywhere else.  Being part of a group brings you close to people who you wouldn't otherwise know in real life.  I share in their happiness, sadness, accomplishments, and even failures.  I share the same things with them.  I've grown to love a multitude of different people thanks to the interwebs.  They come from all walks of life.  They are all different and all special in their own way.  They play an important part in my life, whether they know it or not.  When I'm unable to reach out physically to a loved one, I can always go to my close online buddies.  They don't judge me, they don't hound me, they don't hate on me, but they ALWAYS know the right words to say when I need them.  I may not get the response that I want, but they will tell me what I need to hear.  Whether I agree with them or not, they're my friends.  I respect an opinion shared without malicious intent.  It's good for any grown person.  I take what I need, use it if I can, and do my very best to be the same type of friend to them.  I may fall short, but I try my best to be a good person, even when being a good person is hard for me to do.

I may not be everyone's friend, and that works for me since I'm such a weirdo.  I don't need to be everyone's friend.  I know that the things I expect from my friends are pretty much the same things that they're going to get from me.  I need laughter, something in common, loyalty, an understanding that sarcasm will happen, and a feeling of belonging.  It's a beautiful combination once we get to know each other.

See?  No fuss.  Simple.

Wanna go fishing?

HELL YEAH!

You're Different Than I Am, And That's Okay With Me

Some really hateful things happened all over the book of faces over this past week that had me angry for a spell.  Some vile names were called.  Some anonymity was broken.  Some bitches started tripping.  I was one of them.  While I don't blog anonymously, I respect those who do.  No matter how angry I got, or how much I disagree with someone, I would never disregard someone's desire for privacy.  It's just not right.

Now that we've got my opinion on the subject out there, let's move on.

A very special friend of mine (I'd like to call her a friend, anyway) who is not a blogger, but a page owner, wrote something on her own book of faces page today about friendship.  Her words made me look inside of myself and prompted me to write this today.  This is a woman who I admire for her values, I respect her immensely, and I think the world of her.  She's just awesome and she always knows how to calm a storm.

Her thoughts on being a good friend opened my eyes to the fact that I may have been a bad friend.

Bloggers are a tight knit community.  When we see one of our fellow bloggers being attacked it's not pretty.  People generally jump on one side or the other and then all hell breaks loose and people get their feelings hurt.  I know that I got my feelings hurt.  Not because someone disagreed with me, but because I saw someone being a bully while playing the victim of bullying.  I think that we can all agree that at some point in our lives we have all been faced with ugly words and nastiness.  A difference of opinion is not the same as being mean and hateful and spiteful.  I'm guilty of jumping on the bandwagon of hate.  I said ugly things about someone because they were being hateful and spiteful to my friend.  For that, I'm sorry.  When in the moment of feeling anger, it's so hard not to defend the one being picked on.  It doesn't matter which side you pick, it's wrong to carry a sword in a fight that doesn't belong to you.  Not my beagles, not my hunt.  (Southern people will get that euphemism.)

While reading this friends thoughts on what a true friend is, though, I found wisdom.  My heart felt heavy, but my mind was enlightened.  There was wisdom in her words that nearly knocked me to my knees.  Those are the best kind of friends.  The ones who tell you the truth.  The ones who hold nothing back and throw all the punches when you need a busted head.  I don't know if her words were directed at me.  It doesn't matter.  I took something from them and made it my own.  She felt something, wrote it, and I took what I needed and left the rest.  I call her my friend because of this.

With that being said, today I am at peace.  With myself, with my opinions (no matter who agrees or disagrees), and with my ability to be a friend.  We all make mistakes, and I'm not scared to be the first to admit mine.

What are your thoughts on the makings of a good friend?

Sometimes A Woman Starts Menopause. And It's Fucking Hard.

Sometimes a woman just needs to write.  Sometimes she needs to get things out.  Sometimes she needs a release.  Sometimes she gets overwhelmed with life, and bills, and money problems, and what she's supposed to be doing, and whatever the fuck else it is that puts her in a dark place.

For me it seems to be a reoccurrence of being without money, no stamina to accomplish things, pre-menopause creeping it's ugly head into my body, and depression that comes and goes.

Some days are good.  Some days are bad.  My life is not bad, I just have this hormone thing going on and I can't seem to drag my body and mind together.

It doesn't seem serious yet, physically.  Aside of the night sweats and food cravings and being cold or hot sixty-eleventy times a day.  Not to me, anyway.  But my loved ones are noticing the changes.  And that has set my mind in motion.  My mind in motion is not a good thing.  My mind can, and has, gotten me in deep shit throughout my lifetime.  I'm a dark ass bitch.  For real.  (Dark minds think alike, am I right?)

The thing is, I'm at a place in life where I know that everything is going to be okay.  I don't have demons who are ready to pounce on me and put me under like other time periods, I've grown a lot in the last 7 to 10 years.  I have a positive outlook and positive reinforcements.  Those are things I've never really had years ago, or at least I didn't think I had them.  Maybe I was just too busy pushing people away to realize they were positive to me.

My question is this:  How long does this menopause shit last?
And one more question:  Why the fuck am I starting it this early?  I'm in my EARLY 40's, for fuck's sake!

Crazy Hussy.  I'm totally gonna change my name to Crazy Hussy.

This shit blows.  And by blows I mean like a hurricane kind, not like a blowjob kind.

A Letter To The Ones Who Hurt Me

Dear Motherfuckers who harmed me, wronged me, took advantage of me, and ultimately made me stronger:

I beat you.  I screwed you in the most awesome way you could ever imagine.

I found a happiness that you WILL NEVER FIND.

I became so strong because of you that no amount of sad or stupid will ever break me.

I learned how to function in a world full of angry with a genuine smile on my face and in my heart.

I know what's important, and you aren't a part of that importance.

Sincerely,
This Hussy who has became so much better because of the lessons.

Why I Am The Original Hussy® (Part 2)

I've been putting this off for far too long.  I kind of know what I want to say here, but haven't been able to come up with the right words to say it.  So, I'll start at the beginning.


Back in the day, when the internet was dial up, I paid 20 bucks a month to have a place to go outside of my normal day-to-day life that I could be anyone I wanted to be.  It was my way of escaping who I was and the life I was living.  It was my way of NOT being who I actually was. You see, I didn't much care for me.  I didn't like myself.  You could even say that I hated me. I was my enemy.  I was a drug addict with self esteem issues.  I was a really messed up person.  And I used the interwebs to be a better me.  I used it to be a me that I wanted to be and hoped to be.

After years of therapy, dozens of different medicine combinations, two drug rehabs, and countless life lessons, I learned that I couldn't find happiness outside of my skin.  The interwebs couldn't cure me, the doctors couldn't cure me, the rehabs couldn't cure me.  It was up to me to be happy on my own.  And if I couldn't learn to be happy, then I would be dead.  It was at this point in life that I knew that I was worth living for.  I wanted to live. REALLY LIVE!  And no one was going to save my life but me.  So my true journey began.

I slowly started telling myself every single day, no matter how hard it was, that happiness starts within me.  I deserved it.  I was loveable.  I was worthy.  I love me.  I know it sounds simple, but it's how I survived.  All the rehabs, doctors, and medicine didn't help me.  I helped me.  I just woke up one morning and said to myself, "Self, you don't like your life and the way you live, the way you feel, it's up to you to turn it around and start liking it, for fuck's sake!"  And after that morning I was a totally different person.  Sure I had bad days.  I had bad dreams.  It wasn't easy.  Not at first.  Doubt crept in from time to time and tried to make me think that I'd never make it.  But I kept at it.  I kept reassuring myself that my happy is mine alone and no amount of negative could take it away from me unless I let it.  And I wasn't about to let it.  That was around 8 years ago.

Now I'm not gonna say that life has been full of rainbows and shiny shit.  I've had some bad times since then.  I moved up to Ohio with a total asshat douchebag piece of shit motherfucker who drug me back down to darkness and stole everything I owned, but that was my bad.  I won't blame him because all the red flags were waving before I took that big ole step, but my silly ass had to learn the hard way.  Two broken ribs, one domestic violence shelter, and a charge of simple assault later and my ass was back home and back to telling myself that my happy was my damn happy again.  Ya hear me?!?!

Fast forward to about 3 years ago......I was facebooking with a new found confidence. Getting back in touch with old friends from high school, connecting with family that had moved away from the area.  Seeing my foster family in Georgia and how they had grown and had kids and went through hard times and happy times.  I was a total freaking junkie for the book of faces!  I made new friends.  Saw a bunch of drama.  Realized that sometimes your facebook profile is not the place to show how much of a dumbass you are.  Facebook is not the place to blast your relationship problems.  And facebook is not the place to run to when you're angry or emotional about something.  It can and will cause you problems if you put your personal shit out there for everyone else to read.  It taught me that if I have something to say to someone, I should take it directly to the person who should be hearing it.

And with that, I needed a place to vent sometimes.  A place to let off steam and a place to say things where only other women could read them.  A place to ask for advice when I needed it. And so I created a private group called "Hussies Unite" and asked a few friends to join and they invited their friends to join and so I became The Original Hussy® 

The group has grown dormant since I started my own facebook page, but once in a while someone will come to the group just to vent, or share what's going on in their world.  But mostly it's always quiet nowadays.  It was a good thing for a while.  And I'm somewhat sad that it's not very active anymore, but I have my page and my Tumblr and this.  So I'm good.

And I'm happy.  That was the whole point.  My happiness.  My self love.  I found it with the help of others, my desire to love and be loved, and with sharing my nightmare of a life that turned into a life that is good.  And by good, I mean I'm able to smile in most any situation because I know for a fact that I am worth much more than I thought I was back in the day.

Thanks for reading and much <3 Hussy Love <3
I've got a whole shit ton of it to pass around these days!

And if you're a woman who can keep a secret and need a place to vent or think you could help when someone else vents then please feel free to join the group, Hussies Unite!

Why I Am The Original Hussy® (part 1)

Why I Am The Original Hussy® (part 1)

Do you ever wonder to yourself, "Self, why for fuck's sake does that girl call herself The Original Hussy?"  Well, no worries.  The OH is here to tell you all about it.

Back when I was a little girl, I spent a lot of time listening to the grown ups talk and talk and talk.  I wasn't allowed to talk with them, and I really wasn't supposed to be listening to them either.  But my ass DID listen!  I listened so hard that I learned some good stuff that I would take to school with me and share with all the other kids because I wanted to be a bad ass.  I was raised an Army brat, and that meant moving about every four years. It also meant that every time I found some friends and began to fit in with some kids, it was time to say goodbye.  I hated to say goodbye.  It was agonizing for me.  

When my Dad spent a couple of years in Korea, I lived behind my Mamaw and Papaw with my Mama and sister. I was seven years old and my sister was two.  It was nice to be around family all of the time.  And there was always some family around at Mamaw and Papaw's house.  There was also a ton of shenanigans because my Aunt and Uncle were teenagers back then and my Papaw was a heavy drinker. There was card games, cookouts, sleep-overs, porch swinging, shade tree settin', beer drinking in the back yard, (Not for me because I was too young back then, but we all know I love me some beer.) and there was always some shit going on.  My Mamaw was a feisty lady  and never held her tongue.  If she thought it, it came out of her mouth.  I think I get that from her.  (Thanks Mamaw, you did me a solid on that one.  And Rest In Peace you crazy, hard working, classy lady!  I love and miss you a bushel and peck!)

Now my Mamaw didn't cuss a whole bunch when I was a kid.  It was considered 'unladylike' to cuss.  But she could get fired up when something or someone crossed her, or anyone else in the family the wrong way.  And her vocabulary could be quite colorful, to say the least.  I remember one time when they had to go get someone out of jail because they were driving around drinking beer on backroads with some other woman besides their wife.  Mamaw referred to these women as 'hussies' and I was so young that I didn't know what it meant.  I found that word 'hussy' to be one of the funniest words I'd ever heard in my life.  I'd call my barbies and my dolls 'hussy' because it sounded like the best word ever for a girl.  When I got older I started putting two-and-two together and realized what she was talking about.

Now that old word doesn't mean something to be proud of.  Nope.  It means that woman gets around.  She's loose.  She's easy.  Home wrecker.  Mamaw used 'hussy' and 'floozy' to describe any woman who had found her way into the lives/hearts of the men in our family that weren't their wives or children.

I'm not any of those things, but the word still remains inside of me as something that I found appealing as a young girl.  'Hussy' didn't mean anything more than 'some woman who I've never met' back then.  To this day, I still haven't been able to shake my attraction to the word.  I know it doesn't describe ME, per se, but it brings back some very fond memories of my Mamaw and how I would listen to her conversations with people when she didn't know I was listening.

So now you know where I came up with the idea to call myself  a Hussy.  This story is far from over.  There's a shit ton more to tell.  Like how I became The Original Hussy®.  

Stay tuned.  When something strikes me then I'll be back with part 2.

<3 Hussy Love <3