How much is it worth?

Following the logic that 40 is a fresh start for me, I have been doing some deep digging, I mean, looking at me, talking about my faults to well, a fault.  Trying to figure out what makes me tick.  Why some folks push my buttons and others, I simply choose to walk away from and not even try

Damn, it’s been a hard long trip and it’s far from over.  I do know that I am not quite the turd I thought I was.  I do know that I am full of love, full of faith and am basically quite content and happy. 

At the end of the day, I want to be able to lay my head down, know that I have lived a loving and faithful life that day.  I want to pray that I get to do the same the next day and thank God above for my beloved family, my amazing friends and ask for peace, comfort and forgiveness for all those that have touched my life.  Good or bad, I wish nothing but the best for them.  The best of what they deserve. 

As I live to treasure all that has been given to me, it makes me think, could I do without any of it?  If I could trade one singular moment for everything I could ever want, what moment would that be?

Honestly, I can’t pick one.

I have enough.  I have more than some, not as much as others, but I have exactly what I need in my life each and every day.  I live a charmed, blessed life.  And I work hard for it.  Understand, it doesn’t mean I don’t strive for more, I strive for better.  But it’s not all material.  It’s not all about the have and have not…

For me, a true, loyal, honest person trumps any amount of money you can throw at me.  Really.  I have amazing trust issues that prevent me from completely trusting almost everyone in my life.  I trust people to degrees.  There are a few, very select few that I have completely opened me up to.  Shown them the little guy behind the green curtain.  I have to say, all in all…most have not let me down.  And I grow to love these people more with every passing day.

The few that have gotten in, gotten close, only to show me that maybe they weren’t the person that I saw, rather, I saw what I needed them to be.  And with that knowledge, comes the question, is it wrong of them?  Weren’t they true to themselves, being authentic, their own people; I simply chose to put too much worth on the friendship?

This saddens me.  That in any instance, my instincts are off.  That I have become that “rose-colored glasses” kind of person.  For me, my cynicism has always kept me sharp…and for some reason, I let my guard down. (note to self…must work on this…)

It was worth it.  It was worth learning the lesson, learning who is truly in my corner.  It was worth all the self-doubt, the angst, the hurt and anger.

It’s even worth more that I can put it down, let it go and move toward the people who mean the most to me.  To have those moments, those singular, blissful moments surround by love and grace.

That, my friends, is what it’s worth.

hey…that stinks!

I have never posted a blog before about bodily functions…about your appearance or attire, yes, but bodily functions, nope.  I checked. 

Now, that all changes.  If you don’t like fart jokes, then see that red “X” in the right corner?  waaayyy up there?  go ‘head, click it…cause this is gonna be a long fart joke.

Sorry. 

Well, maybe not…

Folks, I beg of you…quit farting around me or better yet, ON ME!!!!  It’s gross.  By around me I mean, don’t fart when you are within 10″ of my personal space. 

As much as I find this certain aspect of human nature funny…I don’t appreciate walking through the fog that you leave behind.

To prove my point…

Like when the Girl and I are at the grocery store, specifically, when I am on the cereal aisle looking at Pop Tarts and oatmeal…

Yeah, you, little 9 year-old-girl…don’t crop dust me when you walk past.  It’s only you and I on the aisle.  (The Girl went to get creamer and left me on my own!) So, when that napalm hits me and I know it wasn’t ME that did it…don’t cop attitude with me when I turn to stare at you blindly…I know who it was.

And I am staring blindly, because it’s like tear gas and I can’t see to move out of the cloud.

What’s better was when the Girl walks up and says “C’mon!”  I can’t….I can’t move.  I am temporarily paralyzed by the noxious fumes.  Can’t you smell them?!?!?  “Nope, my sniffer isn’t that good.”

damn.it.

OR how about this gem…

I am getting ready to go home.  It’s been a decent day at work, productive, inside while raining…etc…so I am ready to go home.  To see my loved ones…

I get on the elevator with one of the maintenance guys.  He’s always been pleasant, holding the door, asking what floor, etc…but this day, was EXTRA special.

I am heading to P3.  He presses the button for P2.  As the elevator comes to P2, he moves in front of the doors, as they open and he steps off, he lets.one.rip.

He looks back at my horrified face (it wasn’t quiet!) and simply says “Excuse me!” as the doors close.

I arrive with my putrid guest at P3 and alllll I can think is “I have to get through that wall of stink to go home!”

It’s just not fair. 

I am not sure when I became the fart magnet.  Nor am I sure that I wish to maintain said title.  I do giggle about these stories now, as does my buddy at work when I tell these stories.  I do know that  my dad would be in hysterics at my logic and predicament.  Maybe, JUST maybe…he is sending me a sign…a big stinky sign that he’s still with me…

I am trying to find the lesson in there. 

Cause I can’t hold my breath looking for it for too long!!!

Rules of Concert Going

You know, there should be rules for everything.  From driving a car, raising a child, wearing open toe sandals to appropriate work attire and concert going.

 I think I have had more than my say on many of these subjects, but I have not touched on the Rules of Concert Going.

 Until now.

 Folks, do us ALLLLL a favor and just simply follow a few small, yet easily accomplished rules.  It will enhance the concert going experience for us all.  I submit:

  1.  Make sure you have your ticket.  Preferably purchased prior to concert going experience.  JUST a suggestion.
  2. Always go with a group of friends. 
  3. Send your one friend that is always on time ahead to the venue to scope seating.  While the rest of you take the next three hours to get ready, they will ensure that your seats are safely monitored and if it is a lawn concert, they will make sure you have plenty of room.
  4. If you are an aspiring artist…taking your guitar and playing along with the artist is not truly appreciated by anyone.  Leave your guitar and (my favorite) your tambourine at home…or someone is gonna kick your ass for ruining their favorite song. 
  5. If said concert is a lawn concert, there is a SUB set of rules.
    1. Bring your own blanket.  If you decide that the blanket is bulky and “too heavy” then choose to stand in front of me and my friends on our blanket and block our view, it won’t be pretty.  Trust me.
    2. Oh….and don’t move ten feet away and stand and glare at us.  We are lesbians; we are used to being glared at.  You will miss your mark.  COMPLETELY.
  6.   As you will be taking your shoes off, wash your feet.  I don’t want to stare at your ugly, smelly toes if it can at all be helped.
  7. Bring bug spray.  Scented, but bring it. 
  8. Deodorant.  It’s not just for the morning anymore.  Use it; aplenty if you are gonna sweat.  I don’t want to smell you.

Now attire for a concert is always an experience.  So I will submit the following rules for concert attire.  Please follow lest you sit around me, walk by me or are anywhere in my line of vision, because if you look stupid, I will point, laugh and mock you until you cry.  Truly, it’s not nice, it’s a disease and I am seeking help for it.

  1.  It is not necessary to “whore it up” for a concert.  Seriously, I see less flesh in the shower. 
  2. The cowboy boots and shorts are only cute on 6 year olds or teeny tiny girls that have the legs that can rock said combination.  Keep your “ample” pasty legs out of the cowboy boots and shorts outfit.  You look like a sausage and it’s not pretty.
  3. It’s not necessary to wear every ounce of perfume that you own.  There is a hole in the ozone layer and that shit isn’t helping.  Any of us.  Thankyouverymuch.
  4. Bras ARE encouraged.  Especially once gravity has gotten ahold of your 46 triple G’s. 
  5. So is underwear.
  6. Hi-evah…said bras and underwear should be worn as UNDERWEAR.  Not EVER as OUTERWEAR.  I don’t need to see you dancing around in your sports bra and boxer briefs.  Not ever.  And not directly in front of me.  It’s gross and well, we will take your picture and post it on the internet in a blog.   (whoops…)

 

 Finally and actually as rules go, this one seems to be one that should stand up to all situations. 

 #1 with a bullet: 

 Hey, horny drunk couple in front of us.  Getting so drunk that you can’t stand, find each other’s faces, hold a cigarette or beer is never conducive to successful humping in the evening.  Furthermore…  

We don’t want to see your failed attempts at groping, making out, disrobing, dry humping or dirty talk on the grass, in front of us, or the kids, the grandparents or the in-laws.  If I wanna watch porn, I will pay for it, like every other red blooded American…

And buddy, I coulda had her bra unhooked with one hand…keep practicing…you’ll get there.

 Now, if these rules can be followed, to any sort of degree, the concert going experience should be enjoyable for all.  And sometimes, just sometimes, the experience that I pay for shouldn’t include a sideshow…

Oh, who am I kidding…I love the sideshow.

If 60 is the new 40, what does that make me?

So, I turned 40 about a week ago.  So far my head hasn’t caved in, I haven’t turned completely gray nor have I spotted one extra wrinkle.  I dare say, I think my pants even fit looser.

I think I am gonna like this 40’s thing…

I spent a week on the Texas coast with some of my nearest and dearest.  After our debacle of a vacation last year, I did however, decide to forego the family aspect of a vacation and did not share a single solitary strand of DNA with anyone on this trip.

And it was amazing.

I have learned what true, die-hard friends I have.  I have learned how much I love these people and if I could, they would be genetically linked to me.  I could vacation with these people and never have a care in the world.

These folks are awesome-sauce.  (thank you Benny for the rockin’ word!)

Sadly, I have this one question, is the gift that one gives themselves on their 40th birthday the gift of realization?  Does God bestow enlightenment upon you at that precise moment that you turn 40?

Cause I have been realizing things lately that didn’t present themselves to me before.

Such as I am surrounded by some sucky people in my life.  Not all related (close….) and not all friendly.  I am surrounded by people who act as if they have my best intentions and my feelings in mind…then turn around and show me otherwise.

Can you fire your friends and family?  Do I have to pay severance or un-employment? 

I think in my week of 40-year-old knowledge, it’s become apparent that I am too tired to give a shit about the drama that others try to inflict upon me.  Go.away. 

No, I don’t want to have to “break-up” with you.  No, I don’t want to have to explain why we don’t talk anymore.  No I don’t want to explain why you are not now or have ever been invited over.  No.  No.  No.  Just go.away.  There isn’t any need for closure; nothing you say is going to matter.  It hasn’t and it won’t. 

I know that recently I said I was going to live authentically.  To be Authentic Me.  And I am, I am clearing out the cobwebs and throwing a ton of crap out…metaphorically that is. 

And these “leeches” won’t let go.  There isn’t a graceful way to exit a non-working friendship or relationship. 

And just deleting them from Facebook does not count.  Trust me.  I tried.

So I guess going forward, I am gonna be 40 and act 40, which makes me what?  30?  20?  Crap….