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?
This Crazy Life. My Rambling Mind.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Saturday, January 17, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
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.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Christmas 2014 Is Upon Us
Christmas. I love this time of year. (Insert sarcasm with those last words.)
I despise the crowds. I despise the shopping. I despise the incessant music on every radio station while I drive. I despise the fact that I live on a fixed income and that I stress about money to the point that it makes me physically ill every single year. I despise the sadness I feel about both of my Grandmothers passing in the month of December. I'm normally not a negative person except for this time of year.
And then there is the beautiful side to all this negative. The wonderful things about Christmas time that I gently remind myself of. This is the month that I gave birth to my BabyBug, who will turn 19 this year. This is the month that my Apple Dumpling shows me, every year, that I've done such a great job teaching her what the most important things in life are. This is a month of magic. This is a month where people do such amazing things for others with love in their heart and no expectation for their actions in return.
Last year was the first Christmas that I had both of my daughters together in five years. It was magical. The smiles on their faces over nothing more than us being together was priceless. They knew I didn't have a lot of money, and it didn't seem to matter to them. We laughed over silly things and made fun of each other and just had an amazing time.
I've spent two Christmases with my HunnyMan and this year will make three. They've been the most wonderful ones of my life, aside of those from my childhood when the magic of Santa captivated me, and we don't even buy gifts for each other. His parents have shared in our joy, which made these Christmases even better. I could never ask for a better Mother and Father-in-Law. They're the kind of people that can just sit around and talk and you instantly feel comfortable, the kind of people who would give the shirt off their back if it would help someone in need. I love them so much for that.
So, in all of the things that make this time of year sad and unbearable for me, there are many things that remind me of how Blessed I am. I have amazing children, a loving and supportive family, a Husband that completes me, and memories that will forever fill my heart with happiness.
To all of you who took the time to read this, I wish you a wonderful and joyous Christmas filled with magic and love.
I despise the crowds. I despise the shopping. I despise the incessant music on every radio station while I drive. I despise the fact that I live on a fixed income and that I stress about money to the point that it makes me physically ill every single year. I despise the sadness I feel about both of my Grandmothers passing in the month of December. I'm normally not a negative person except for this time of year.
And then there is the beautiful side to all this negative. The wonderful things about Christmas time that I gently remind myself of. This is the month that I gave birth to my BabyBug, who will turn 19 this year. This is the month that my Apple Dumpling shows me, every year, that I've done such a great job teaching her what the most important things in life are. This is a month of magic. This is a month where people do such amazing things for others with love in their heart and no expectation for their actions in return.
Last year was the first Christmas that I had both of my daughters together in five years. It was magical. The smiles on their faces over nothing more than us being together was priceless. They knew I didn't have a lot of money, and it didn't seem to matter to them. We laughed over silly things and made fun of each other and just had an amazing time.
I've spent two Christmases with my HunnyMan and this year will make three. They've been the most wonderful ones of my life, aside of those from my childhood when the magic of Santa captivated me, and we don't even buy gifts for each other. His parents have shared in our joy, which made these Christmases even better. I could never ask for a better Mother and Father-in-Law. They're the kind of people that can just sit around and talk and you instantly feel comfortable, the kind of people who would give the shirt off their back if it would help someone in need. I love them so much for that.
So, in all of the things that make this time of year sad and unbearable for me, there are many things that remind me of how Blessed I am. I have amazing children, a loving and supportive family, a Husband that completes me, and memories that will forever fill my heart with happiness.
To all of you who took the time to read this, I wish you a wonderful and joyous Christmas filled with magic and love.
Friday, September 19, 2014
A Love Letter To My Apple Dumpling
Dear Dump,
(I promise I will never call you that in public or around your friends.)
I've loved you since I found out that you were growing inside of me. I cried. I laughed. I was scared. I was proud. You made a difference in me that day, my birthday, when I found out the news that Mama was gonna be a Mama again. I had a lot of things that needed changing in me before you were born and those changes began on that birthday in 2003 when I was 30 years old.
Fast forward to April of the next year when you were born. The day you came along was one of the best days of my life. I don't think I've ever cried that much with happiness in my heart. And that's what you've given me in your ten years.....so much happiness.
From the moment your feet hit the floor until you lay your pretty little strangy head down at night, you're happy. (You can thank me for that strangy hair, Miss Priss!) You've always looked at the bright side of life and found a way to leave the negative in file 13, where it belongs. (That's Military talk for the trash can, btw.) I've never been able to give you a lot of things that other children have because we live in the poverty level and you've never complained much about that. You've always been happy with the hugs and kisses and the little things like making muffins or brownies or clubhouses in the woods out of whatever junk you can drag up. That says a big whole bunch about your character. It says that you're a survivor. You're a lover. You're good. And yes, baby, YOU ARE SO GOOD!
Your passion for nature and animals is one of the greatest things about you. You get that from me, you know. We're nature lovers. Being outside is our thang! I always wanted to have a career helping animals or some type of scientist who studies bugs or frogs or something like that. You're so much like me! The way you talk when you play reminds me of how I used to do at your age and you didn't even know me back then. Wait, I didn't know you back then, either. It's like you're me, only without the nasty attitude! Now I'm not saying you're perfect because you have those days when you can smart-mouth your tail into making me totally lose my beans on ya! We both know that. What I'm saying is, I'm proud of you because you're like me......only better. You have a gift that is animals. I Pray that you find a way to do something with that gift that I wanted to do, but never got around to.
I love you, Dump. More than you'll ever know. More than you'll ever be loved. You made me a better person, ya know. I was on a really bad path in life before you came along and having you in my life changed how I felt about everything. Especially how I felt about myself. You were my second chance. You were my reason and my motivation to do the right things and make the right choices. I had gone on long enough doing the wrong things and you made me realize that we all deserved a healthy Mama. A Mama who could and would do what's right for her family. Thank you for saving my life, baby. Because you truly did.
Mama loves you. Muches and bunches. xo
(I promise I will never call you that in public or around your friends.)
I've loved you since I found out that you were growing inside of me. I cried. I laughed. I was scared. I was proud. You made a difference in me that day, my birthday, when I found out the news that Mama was gonna be a Mama again. I had a lot of things that needed changing in me before you were born and those changes began on that birthday in 2003 when I was 30 years old.
Fast forward to April of the next year when you were born. The day you came along was one of the best days of my life. I don't think I've ever cried that much with happiness in my heart. And that's what you've given me in your ten years.....so much happiness.
From the moment your feet hit the floor until you lay your pretty little strangy head down at night, you're happy. (You can thank me for that strangy hair, Miss Priss!) You've always looked at the bright side of life and found a way to leave the negative in file 13, where it belongs. (That's Military talk for the trash can, btw.) I've never been able to give you a lot of things that other children have because we live in the poverty level and you've never complained much about that. You've always been happy with the hugs and kisses and the little things like making muffins or brownies or clubhouses in the woods out of whatever junk you can drag up. That says a big whole bunch about your character. It says that you're a survivor. You're a lover. You're good. And yes, baby, YOU ARE SO GOOD!
Your passion for nature and animals is one of the greatest things about you. You get that from me, you know. We're nature lovers. Being outside is our thang! I always wanted to have a career helping animals or some type of scientist who studies bugs or frogs or something like that. You're so much like me! The way you talk when you play reminds me of how I used to do at your age and you didn't even know me back then. Wait, I didn't know you back then, either. It's like you're me, only without the nasty attitude! Now I'm not saying you're perfect because you have those days when you can smart-mouth your tail into making me totally lose my beans on ya! We both know that. What I'm saying is, I'm proud of you because you're like me......only better. You have a gift that is animals. I Pray that you find a way to do something with that gift that I wanted to do, but never got around to.
I love you, Dump. More than you'll ever know. More than you'll ever be loved. You made me a better person, ya know. I was on a really bad path in life before you came along and having you in my life changed how I felt about everything. Especially how I felt about myself. You were my second chance. You were my reason and my motivation to do the right things and make the right choices. I had gone on long enough doing the wrong things and you made me realize that we all deserved a healthy Mama. A Mama who could and would do what's right for her family. Thank you for saving my life, baby. Because you truly did.
Mama loves you. Muches and bunches. xo
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
A Love Letter To The 18 Year Old
Dear Bug,
You have brought so much joy to my life in the 18 years you've been in this cruel, but beautiful world. Carrying you for nine months and giving birth to you all natural were the hardest things I had ever done back then. At 22 years old, I didn't have the first clue about life, much less raising and caring for someone other than myself. I was scared of being a Mama, I admit it. I made a ton of mistakes, I admit that, too. I'm very ashamed of so many things that you had to go through all because I wasn't ready to be a parent. If I could go back and redo things, I would in a heartbeat. (I'm sure a lot of people say that from time to time.) So BabyBug, listen to this song right here and know that Mama loves you with all her heart. A Lot Of Things Different for my Bug
When you were a little baby, you were such a joy. You brought so many people happiness. You brought people together. We showed you off to many family members, many who aren't here anymore, and people would gather at family functions just for you. You were the first Grandchild, the Prodigy, the first of a new generation in MY family. You had the birthmark. You had the attitude. You were the next big thing. And with that you had big shoes to fill. Shoes that I was supposed to wear in my day, but never wanted to. People expect too much from you when you're the first, trust me I was a first, too. I didn't ask for it, but it followed me my whole life. So far, you've handled it with much more grace than I ever did. The pressure of being the first was too much for me and I did the exact opposite of what everyone expected. You've shined in the spotlight. You've lived your life, up to this point, with so much love in your heart. You have a love inside of you that, at your young age of 18, puts your Mama to shame. I was full of hatred at your age. And after all that you've been through, after all that you've survived, you have a love inside of you that I'm in awe of. I'm proud of you for that.
Now that you consider yourself a grown up, which you are, (I mean, let's face it, you HAD to grow up in the circumstances that you were dealt,) I have some Motherly advice for you. I also have a few things to tell you that may help in the rest of your journey through life. And I want you to know everything about you that makes me proud.
Please, Bug, whatever you do......always, always, always follow your heart. Even if it means your heart get's hurt or broken. Follow it. No matter what people say or think, it's your heart and no one else has your heart. No one else can live your life. No one else can bring you happiness. You are always responsible for your heart, so you follow it. While I'm over here giving advice and shit, let me tell you how important your dreams and ambitions are. I know how much you wanted to make a difference in the lives of children. Even if it's not in nursing like you planned, still follow that. There are so many ways that you can make a career out of helping children. Look at you now, making a difference to my little TurkeyButt. He doesn't have a Mama. He loves you as his Mama. No matter where his Mama is or what her future holds, look at what you're doing for him right now! Look how freaking amazing he is because of you! Look at the accomplishments he's reached because he had your help, your love, your attention, and your heart! YOU'VE DONE SOMETHING AMAZING ALREADY WITH THAT SWEET LITTLE BOY! Don't you give up your dreams and ambitions of wanting to be a help or to make a difference to children. You can do it. Set your mind to it, and just go for it, for fuck's sake! No one is stopping you but you. Make it happen. Don't be like me, 41 years old, wishing I would've done something. You've still got plenty of time. And I believe in you!
When I tell you that I'm 40 years old and I know shit, I hope you're listening. The biggest thing I want you to know is that no one else can live YOUR life. It was given to YOU by me. It's yours to do with as you please. No one is responsible for your mistakes or your milestones but you. With that being said, never allow anything negative into your life. If it's not benefiting you, get rid of it. Never hang onto ANY FRICKING THING that brings you down. I promise, you'll always know true happiness if you always surround yourself with good. Even if it means starting over with nothing (and yes, that's hard to do) you have to always do what's best and good and true for your life and for your well being and for your happiness. I spent too many years trying to please someone else and the years I lost aren't worth it. Take it from a woman who has been through any and all things that are bad. I've suffered all the kinds of abuse known to man and being a survivor is all I have to show for it. Don't be the woman I am. Be the woman who took the advice from a broken, used up, hurt, abused woman who learned some hard mother fucking lessons. Don't ever put yourself in a position where you have to depend on someone else. That shit hurts. And when you're not able to fend for yourself, you get taken advantage of. Then you get thrown away. Don't be someone's trash. Be someone's hero. And always know that you're already my hero.
Now, let me tell you how proud of you I am, and why I'm proud of you.......Bug, you didn't ask for the life your Dad and I gave you. It wasn't your fault that we couldn't stay together. It wasn't in the cards of life. That's my fault. But you know what? I'm so proud that we gained you from that relationship. Even though neither one of us were ready to be parents, I'm so proud that God decided to give us the gift that is you. You truly were the greatest Blessing that came from that relationship. I'm so proud that you always did so well in whatever you were faced with. It shows that you have the ability to adapt to whatever circumstances are thrown your way. I'm proud that you left at 13 to live with your Dad because my time in Ohio is something that no person should ever have to go through. I'm sorry for that, but you were in the best place for you at the time. No matter what you think of your Dad, he was a good person then. He did the best he could. I trusted him to take care of you, and he did that. It's hard for me to say anything bad about him because he went through some rough shit with me and you never went without anything you NEEDED. So you call your Dad and tell him thank you, because he did some sacrificing back in the day.
I'm proud that you came back to me at 17 with good intentions in your mind and heart. I didn't have anything at the time, but that was okay with you. I was different and you were, too. I'm proud that you recognized the changes I'd made and that you wanted to be close to me again. That meant so much to me. It also meant the world to your little sister. She adores you much more than you'll ever know. I'm proud of the young woman you've become. I'm proud that you're teaching a little boy what true love is. Even though he doesn't belong to you, he DOES belong to you. I'm so proud of you for that. Sometimes love is all it takes to make a difference in the life of a child. And that little boy loves you. You know it, your butthead of a boyfriend knows it, and TurkeyButt knows it. I just wish you knew how important that little threesome of a family you have means to me. Whether he knows it or not, I love your Butthead boyfriend and his sweetheart of a son. You guys mean the world to me.
And, in closing, here's you another song to listen to.......because life is a dance, and it's a beautiful dance if you choose for it to be. Please Dance, BabyBug. You're worth it!
I love you, more than you'll ever be loved in this lifetime. xo
You have brought so much joy to my life in the 18 years you've been in this cruel, but beautiful world. Carrying you for nine months and giving birth to you all natural were the hardest things I had ever done back then. At 22 years old, I didn't have the first clue about life, much less raising and caring for someone other than myself. I was scared of being a Mama, I admit it. I made a ton of mistakes, I admit that, too. I'm very ashamed of so many things that you had to go through all because I wasn't ready to be a parent. If I could go back and redo things, I would in a heartbeat. (I'm sure a lot of people say that from time to time.) So BabyBug, listen to this song right here and know that Mama loves you with all her heart. A Lot Of Things Different for my Bug
When you were a little baby, you were such a joy. You brought so many people happiness. You brought people together. We showed you off to many family members, many who aren't here anymore, and people would gather at family functions just for you. You were the first Grandchild, the Prodigy, the first of a new generation in MY family. You had the birthmark. You had the attitude. You were the next big thing. And with that you had big shoes to fill. Shoes that I was supposed to wear in my day, but never wanted to. People expect too much from you when you're the first, trust me I was a first, too. I didn't ask for it, but it followed me my whole life. So far, you've handled it with much more grace than I ever did. The pressure of being the first was too much for me and I did the exact opposite of what everyone expected. You've shined in the spotlight. You've lived your life, up to this point, with so much love in your heart. You have a love inside of you that, at your young age of 18, puts your Mama to shame. I was full of hatred at your age. And after all that you've been through, after all that you've survived, you have a love inside of you that I'm in awe of. I'm proud of you for that.
Now that you consider yourself a grown up, which you are, (I mean, let's face it, you HAD to grow up in the circumstances that you were dealt,) I have some Motherly advice for you. I also have a few things to tell you that may help in the rest of your journey through life. And I want you to know everything about you that makes me proud.
Please, Bug, whatever you do......always, always, always follow your heart. Even if it means your heart get's hurt or broken. Follow it. No matter what people say or think, it's your heart and no one else has your heart. No one else can live your life. No one else can bring you happiness. You are always responsible for your heart, so you follow it. While I'm over here giving advice and shit, let me tell you how important your dreams and ambitions are. I know how much you wanted to make a difference in the lives of children. Even if it's not in nursing like you planned, still follow that. There are so many ways that you can make a career out of helping children. Look at you now, making a difference to my little TurkeyButt. He doesn't have a Mama. He loves you as his Mama. No matter where his Mama is or what her future holds, look at what you're doing for him right now! Look how freaking amazing he is because of you! Look at the accomplishments he's reached because he had your help, your love, your attention, and your heart! YOU'VE DONE SOMETHING AMAZING ALREADY WITH THAT SWEET LITTLE BOY! Don't you give up your dreams and ambitions of wanting to be a help or to make a difference to children. You can do it. Set your mind to it, and just go for it, for fuck's sake! No one is stopping you but you. Make it happen. Don't be like me, 41 years old, wishing I would've done something. You've still got plenty of time. And I believe in you!
When I tell you that I'm 40 years old and I know shit, I hope you're listening. The biggest thing I want you to know is that no one else can live YOUR life. It was given to YOU by me. It's yours to do with as you please. No one is responsible for your mistakes or your milestones but you. With that being said, never allow anything negative into your life. If it's not benefiting you, get rid of it. Never hang onto ANY FRICKING THING that brings you down. I promise, you'll always know true happiness if you always surround yourself with good. Even if it means starting over with nothing (and yes, that's hard to do) you have to always do what's best and good and true for your life and for your well being and for your happiness. I spent too many years trying to please someone else and the years I lost aren't worth it. Take it from a woman who has been through any and all things that are bad. I've suffered all the kinds of abuse known to man and being a survivor is all I have to show for it. Don't be the woman I am. Be the woman who took the advice from a broken, used up, hurt, abused woman who learned some hard mother fucking lessons. Don't ever put yourself in a position where you have to depend on someone else. That shit hurts. And when you're not able to fend for yourself, you get taken advantage of. Then you get thrown away. Don't be someone's trash. Be someone's hero. And always know that you're already my hero.
Now, let me tell you how proud of you I am, and why I'm proud of you.......Bug, you didn't ask for the life your Dad and I gave you. It wasn't your fault that we couldn't stay together. It wasn't in the cards of life. That's my fault. But you know what? I'm so proud that we gained you from that relationship. Even though neither one of us were ready to be parents, I'm so proud that God decided to give us the gift that is you. You truly were the greatest Blessing that came from that relationship. I'm so proud that you always did so well in whatever you were faced with. It shows that you have the ability to adapt to whatever circumstances are thrown your way. I'm proud that you left at 13 to live with your Dad because my time in Ohio is something that no person should ever have to go through. I'm sorry for that, but you were in the best place for you at the time. No matter what you think of your Dad, he was a good person then. He did the best he could. I trusted him to take care of you, and he did that. It's hard for me to say anything bad about him because he went through some rough shit with me and you never went without anything you NEEDED. So you call your Dad and tell him thank you, because he did some sacrificing back in the day.
I'm proud that you came back to me at 17 with good intentions in your mind and heart. I didn't have anything at the time, but that was okay with you. I was different and you were, too. I'm proud that you recognized the changes I'd made and that you wanted to be close to me again. That meant so much to me. It also meant the world to your little sister. She adores you much more than you'll ever know. I'm proud of the young woman you've become. I'm proud that you're teaching a little boy what true love is. Even though he doesn't belong to you, he DOES belong to you. I'm so proud of you for that. Sometimes love is all it takes to make a difference in the life of a child. And that little boy loves you. You know it, your butthead of a boyfriend knows it, and TurkeyButt knows it. I just wish you knew how important that little threesome of a family you have means to me. Whether he knows it or not, I love your Butthead boyfriend and his sweetheart of a son. You guys mean the world to me.
And, in closing, here's you another song to listen to.......because life is a dance, and it's a beautiful dance if you choose for it to be. Please Dance, BabyBug. You're worth it!
I love you, more than you'll ever be loved in this lifetime. xo
Sunday, September 14, 2014
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!
Friday, August 15, 2014
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®.
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
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