Politics suck. 

I was going to post this In response to some comments on a post, I decided to just put it right here…so it’s verrrrry clear.

Look folks…I don’t excuse any of her acts….she isn’t my first choice.

But if any of you actually think that DONALD F*CKING TRUMP is the answer to our prayers, you’re just as delusional as he is. He is hateful, hurtful and a complete asshole. Hypocrite isn’t even the start of his bullshit problems. So posting your Liberal hate on my wall or your memes about Hillary are only going to prove my point, over and over…that Republicans in general are a hateful, excluding group of asshats that don’t deserve my respect or friendship. Now, do YOU enjoy being lumped into such a group? Do YOU think it’s fair?????

Here’s the thing, he’s a horrible choice for President, let’s be honest. And all I can think is that someone in the GOP that was more deserving, more qualified than this blustering ball of bullshit. Someone who could have led this country somewhere other than down a path to hell. He got this nomination because he is basically a school yard bully.

I’m a social liberal and a fiscal conservative. He doesn’t speak for me. I voted for Obama because Bush left this country in a hole we are still recovering from.

I will state again, for the record…I am for equal pay for equal work.  I am for gay marriage, I believe Black Lives Matter, I believe in free speech and consequences for ones actions. I don’t think any man can tell me what to do with MY body. I support Planned Parenthood and believe they provide more services than the ones they are condemned for.  I think teachers, police and firefighters are EXTREMELY underpaid and professional athletes are over paid.

I believe in term limits for ALL politicians and the ones who scream the loudest have the most to hide.   I think if you DO ship our jobs out of the country, you lose your tax breaks.  I think our welfare system cripples people that need assistance and doesn’t help them.  I think the filthy rich need to pay their share not more.

I believe in God, I believe in the Ten Commandments and the Bill of Rights.  I believe we are all immigrants and we need to remember we TOOK this land from Native Americans and we should shut up about anyone else taking it from us.  I think it’s stupid to talk about seceding from the Union and those saying that don’t know what they are talking about.

I don’t think you get a trophy for coming in second and I think that standardized testing should be banned forever and the “new math” is stupid…we are raising children who have no arts programs and can’t write in cursive.

I think that being a gentleman or being ladylike is disappearing quickly from our culture.  I miss manners and common sense.

This political race is reducing people to blathering, blaming buttholes…our world is too tragic for such hate.  It makes me sad.  Terribly sad that people I consider my friends lash out and treat others with such venom and vitriol.  There is such a fury that it shocks me.

Trump took the nomination that probably belonged to another.  That’s the truth.  And I may have voted for this other person, because I am not completely sold on Hillary.

Know this,  I would vote for ANYONE other than Trump.  I mean, if the Cookie Monster was running against him…he would get my vote.

So…shut up, sit down, calm down.  Or at the minimum, keep your shit off my social media.

Let’s try to stay friends…

Centered.

Wow…I’m a whiny bitch.  Truly.  I actually had to take down my previous post because it got misinterpreted and what should have been about me and my thoughts was taken out of context.  It’s never what I intend.  I use this blog as my “diary”…the place where I can spew my shit and just let it lie there.  I use this forum when I’m sad, when I find something funny, when I’m pissed or self-righteous.  I use it as a form of self-expression, of self discovery and of digging into my own psyche.  I don’t use this to hurt anyone.

I never, ever, want to hurt anyone.  Ever.  That’s not who I am.  So here goes the pseudo-apology to all of you…for being a whiny, self-involved asshat.

I need to quit being so butthurt about everything.  I have a good life.  I honestly do.

I will, for a while, continue to contribute all of my butthurtedness (it’s a word) to the loss of a 20 year friendship.  I won’t continue to whine about it, but the truth is, I don’t talk about it.  I don’t THINK I do…others might be rolling their eyes right now saying “dear God, here she goes again,” but I don’t try to inflict my own misery on others.  I try to keep it to myself.  It’s WAY easier than it used to be, but it pops up…because, why not…right?  I said previously it was like a death  And it is, always will be.  I get that it sucked the life out of me, that I put so much into that relationship that now…well, now…I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to grow these existing friendships into something more.  I feel like I come across needy and emotionally stunted.  It was easy, being her bestie.  Now, I have to figure out who I am, without a best friend.  But it’s something I have to do…I can’t expect others to do this for me.  I haven’t acknowledged how socially inept I actually am…and well, it’s in my face.  I’m a complete mess.

I am not the best wife, mother, daughter or sister.  I haven’t been for a while now.  It’s shameful to actually type that and re-read it, but I have been a shell.  I have lashed out at the wrong people and I have said and done things that aren’t actually in my nature.

After my last post, one of my dearest friends reached out to me because it affected her.  She told me I wasn’t alone in wanting and desiring love and respect.  I should expect happiness.  She did clarify it wouldn’t happen overnight and it wouldn’t happen without help in a safe place.   She said I deserved good things in life and good people were part of that.  But I needed to get centered, focused and I needed to NOT expect my family or friends to do that for me, that I needed to do it for myself.  It would be hard work and it would be worth it.  And for the first time in a year, I knew that someone outside of my daughter, my wife or my sister had my heart and my head in their hands.  For the first time in a year, someone who wasn’t related to me said something to me that hit home, because she cared.  And she.was.RIGHT.

The same day…another dear friend, texted me…just to tell me I was a badass and she loved me and to not let the darkness consume me.  Now, it goes without saying this chick is badass on toast, so her taking the time to reach out to me, also meant more than I can convey.  Then I think, why do I not expect that someone would find me worthy of a text?  I love this chick to pieces and would do anything for her, why is it so hard for me to accept that she would do the same for me?

I find it hard that someone like my wife loves me.  She is the best person I have ever met and I haven’t met anyone that wouldn’t agree or say the same.  My kids are the best part of me, I hear it all the time, how wonderful and amazing they are.  Why do I continue to question my abilities as a mother?  Why do I always push at these three people most dear to me?  Why do I expect them to always rescue me when I am a giant ball of need?

Who made it their job to take care of my feelings?  well…you guessed it…I did.  Damnit.

I tend to get wordy, which is both a blessing and a curse.  I have a temper that I lose control of and with that loss of control, I develop verbal diarrhea.  It’s usually not pretty and I usually end up apologizing because I got in my own way.  I own it.

I don’t know how I got here, how I lost me to the noise in my own head.  I think it’s time that I have someone help me understand the noise and turn it into something more beautiful.  I want to hear music, I want to hear laughter.  I want to not cry at the drop of a hat because I feel that helpless.

I really, REALLY hate that I have somehow allowed a person to take the best parts of me and make me question it.  I can’t begin to tell you enough how much I hate that I allowed anyone to control me like that.  And it’s shocking that a year later, I am still giving anyone that much power over me.  Then again, I did admit I was a highly emotional person.  That my “id” was being empathic to a fault and that my moods were always, ALWAYS wrapped up in the emotions of everyone around me.  I won’t apologize for that, instead, I will celebrate that.

I am proud of the fact that there are people in my world, that by merely thinking about them, I smile.  That I have people I will text, out of the blue, because they popped into my mind and I smiled.  I love that about me.  I love the fact that my favorite place to be is surrounded by my family and friends.

I need to find my self-worth.  I don’t know or claim to understand WHY I don’t think I am worth someone thinking I’m awesome.  I don’t know why I continue to test the people in my life, to make sure I am as important to them as they are to me.  I do it, mostly to those closest to me…I don’t understand it and I don’t even know when I do it until it’s too late.  I need to quit needing constant reassurance that I am worthy of love and friendship.  I need to see what others see in me.  I need to believe them when they say nice things to me.

Getting centered is paramount.  I have to throw away all the negative bullshit, the stuff I heap on myself, the stuff I heap on everyone else.  I need to focus on the fact that I have many blessings in my life.  I have MANY things to be happy for, to be grateful for.  I need to remember this stuff as soon as I wake up, and as I fall asleep at night.  I need to remember I am a good person, I have gifts to share and I have love.

There is a place in my soul…it’s like I fire I can feel burning in me.  It’s my passion for life and for love and for laughter.  I can feel it, but it’s been buried so far and for so long, I tend to ignore it.  I don’t know why.  I need to learn how to embrace it again.

The toxic in my world isn’t what’s right in front of my face…it’s what’s in my mind.  I have chipped away at the good things and allowed the hurt to turn toxic and take over my heart.  It’s time to say good-bye to the toxic and burn it down.  It’s time that I let that fire roar inside me, to share it with those that want to be part of it and to not hold grudges, hate, hurt or sadness with both hands.  I am better than this.

So, WorldWideWeb…here’s my promise(s)…I plan to find someone who will tell me that I am either not crazy or I am indeed crazy, but in the best ways.  I plan to love out loud and in big gulps.  I plan to find happiness in myself before I find it in others.  I plan to share that happiness with anyone who wants some of it.  I plan to hold close to those dear to me.  I plan to love me, to find out exactly how badass I am.

I plan to believe in me.

I will be centered.  I will be strong.  I will be Stephanie.

Finally.

Somebody Else.

There are days when I don’t think I can bear any more hurt in the world, any more pain in my heart…then I remember…
Someone else is thinking the same thing, only theirs is worse than anything I am feeling right now.
Someone else is figuring out how to get through one more moment, take one more step, one more breath.

Someone else is battling. And someone else is winning, while another is losing.  Yet they are doing so, with all the grace they can muster.

Someone else pulled themselves out of darkness, into the light.

Someone else feels like the darkness will consume them.

Someone else fell in love, while another had their heart broken.

Someone else said “hello,” while another said goodbye.

At the end of my day, as I head into my 46th year,  I will remember a tiny voice, in the dusty corners of my mind, whispering…

“you can always be somebody else…”

You have my heart.

It’s been a brutal week.   I don’t think there is an end in sight for hate, hurt or blame.  Yet somehow, in all of this muck, we, as humans, have to find a common ground.  We have to find hope. We have to find forgiveness.

I’ll be the first to admit, when I read Dan Patrick’s tweet, or heard about Pat Robertson’s comments, I was filled with anger, I was filled with despair.  I was hurt, I was angry.  

When I heard about Orlando, I felt as I did when I heard about Aurora, Sandy Hook, Columbine, Benghazi, 9/11…all horrible, tragic acts, perpetrated by hate. I felt fear, sadness, hopelessness and despair. 

We have to be better.  We have to find hope.  We have to forgive.  

See…it’s like this…you can’t have peace, you can’t have hope until you put down the blame, you put down the fear and you put down the anger.  If you have blame, anger, fear…the darkness wins.  The bitterness wins. There’s too much amazing in this world to be left with nothing but bitterness.  It’s time to let love win.  

I’m tired of hearing about Muslim this or that, I’m tired of hearing about automatic guns, I’m tired of hearing about bathrooms and the elections.  I need a moratorium on the bullshit and the negative.  It’s a reality that we are giving our children, it’s the future we are handing to them and the legacy we leave behind.  A legacy of ego and self righteousness.  It leaves me weak…

Dan Patrick, your tweet…was ridiculous.  And your explanation was deplorable.  You’re an asshat and don’t deserve to speak for any Texan. Ever.  

But let me tell you…I have had worse said to me…by my own family.  And in the end, I chose to forgive and to love.   Because words only have power if you allow them to.  And I don’t want you to have any power over me or my brothers and sisters.

Orlando and every other victim, family or friend of a senseless act of violence…you have my heart.  You have my hope, that in the days to come, you find love and peace. That you take joy in the moments you had with your loved ones…that you find comfort, that your loved ones are held up with honor and there are many blessings laid at your feet. 

This violence, sadly, won’t end soon…I fear there are more despicable acts to be had because we can’t get it together.  

I love the way I love, because it is right FOR ME. I pray the way I pray, because it is right FOR ME. I don’t need anyone else’s permission or acceptance.  If you don’t like that, pound bricks.  And at the end of my days, whenever that will be…I will be judged by Him.  It’s the only judgement that matters… 

I believe in the 2nd Amendment.  I believe in God.  I believe in prayer in school and that we should say the Pledge of Allegiance.  I believe that a woman has a right to choose and I believe we should help our neighbors.   I believe that there are many religions and many opinions.  I believe that manners and  chilvary are a thing of the past. I believe that you shouldn’t get a trophy of you didn’t win and if you fail, you try again.  I believe that we have gotten lazy. I believe everyone should be accountable and I believe excuses for anything are bullshit. 

I have read the Bible and the Constitution.  I know the Ten Commandments and the Bill of Rights.  

I am an American, I am spiritual, I am gay and I am a human.  I am a sinner and I am forgiven.  

Whomever you are, walk in peace.  Love in big gulps.  Forgive the unforgivable.  

May you find peace in your days.  

Gimme a minute.

Ever wonder what a thunderbolt feels like?  Well, I just had it happen and let me tell you…now, I just feel alone and wanna cry.  Just cry until there is nothing left.

About a year ago, my best friend decided that she would do something that would forever and irreparably change our friendship.  And by change, I mean blow it apart.  I’ll take my responsibility in it’s demise, because I thought to save her, from herself, from the unknown.  Only it got twisted around on me and now I am best friend-less.  I mourn it like a death, which is fitting, because she did text “you are dead to me” on that fateful night/early morning.  I have more good days than bad.  I no longer dwell on it.  It is what it is.  I can’t go back, I can’t fix it, I can’t change it…or her.  It’s definitely changed me and I honestly wish her well, but away from me.

I have people that surround me and love me fiercely.  I have found this to be truer in the past year, than ever before.  I have strength and lightness, I laugh, I breathe…I’m okay.  I’m better than okay…life is sweet and I am blessed beyond measure.  And in reading the texts and emails over and over to get my head around what happened, I realize there is more in my world than the bestie and just how much energy she soaked up in the last 8 months of our friendship.  Good.God.  Doesn’t take away from the fact that she is part of my history and I miss her ALL THE TIME, but I didn’t realize that the darkness had crept into our friendship until I could see it afterwards.  And had people tell me I wasn’t crazy, that I wasn’t wrong…that they loved me.

I have also realized I will never have another friend like the bestie.  That the milestone events in my life have for the most part, happened (birth, death, divorce, coming out, etc.) and she shared them.  That there were no events like this on my horizon and nothing to take a friendship to the level that ours was.  I told the wife “I don’t have the energy to start over again.  I have you.  I have my kids, my family, my friends…it has to be enough.  I can’t do that again.”

There have been two occasions lately where I really needed her.  I needed that bestie that just “got me.” someone to talk to me, to make me feel a little bit better about choices I made, to tell me if I was wrong in the best way possible.  The wife has tried to help me through both.  The daughter has weighed in…here’s my problem with this…

One is my wife.  One is my daughter.

I know, I know, the adage…”you should always marry your best friend!”  I have.  This woman makes me laugh until I pee.  She holds me when I am sad and pisses me off to a level that not many others can.  She is my protector, my comfort, my laughter and joy.  But there are times that even she gets testy at my neuroses, I mean really…who wouldn’t?  There are times I need to hide my insecurity and show her how confident I am.  I need to have someone other than my wife tell me “no, she’s ugly, you’re way prettier!” or “you’re right, she is a total bitch!”  or “you’re a great mother/wife/sister/daughter!” Because my wife is supposed to tell me such things, it’s in the vows (somewhere!) so, I need an outside opinion every once in a while…because I am such a needy mess of mascara, the wife needs backup sometimes.  Sometimes, she needs a break, even if she won’t admit it.

The Daughter…God, I screwed up so much as her mother, I am grateful she talks to me.  She was my firstborn, by starter child, the one I made 99% of my mistakes with.  That she is as incredible as she is, is a testament to her fortitude as a human.  And she is wise beyond her years.  Which has made her vulnerable to mommy being needy.  And that’s not fair.  She’s trying to learn her own way, she doesn’t need to spend her time comforting or affirming that I am a good mommy or a good person.  She doesn’t need to see behind the curtain and realize her mommy is neurotic and a mess and not nearly as put together as she wants everyone to think she is.  No…she shouldn’t shoulder the weight of this bullshit…but it sure is easy to talk to her and that makes it way too easy to involve her in things that she shouldn’t have to worry about.

Anyway, twice.  this second time, I actually texted the Daughter, “Sorry you’ve become my best friend.  There was an opening.”

I then burst into tears.

Damnit…I am stronger than this.  I don’t need a bestie.  I can do this alone.  right?

That thunderbolt literally made my head swim.  I have to do this alone.  I no longer have a choice.  By saving someone from themselves, I no longer have a choice to have my bestie.   I made a choice to save her, sacrifice the friendship…thinking “oh, we’ll get through this, we always do.”  And I have never been more wrong about anything in my life.

That thunderbolt made me realize, I don’t know that aside from the aforementioned souls, I don’t think I have ever had anyone just “pick my side.”  And it alternately pisses me off and renders me immobile.  I left it all on the table with the bestie.  That it was me and her, and anyone else was just someone we let in. But never as close as we were.  No one else gets the fart jokes, or Stoogle, or the years of tears and laughter.  Now, I got no one.  In my tunnel vision of loyalty and love…it was the bestie and I…and I didn’t leave room for anyone else and that has been a rookie mistake.  It’s my own doing and I am gonna sit here and be pathetic.

I’ll be okay in a minute.

 

Obsevations from the Cheap Seats

So I went to my first ever country music festival this weekend.  I knew one artist.  In fact, I had several of his songs on my iPod.  He didn’t sing any of the songs I knew.

Another artist sang a song I knew, but it was a cover of a pop song.

I truly went to spend time with friends…and people watch.  God help me, the people watching.  Wife told me I had resting bitch face for 6 hours and did it hurt?   I had to explain I had a great time, I was simply in a trance.  She’s afraid my face is going to freeze like that.  I assured her, I am almost 46, if it hasn’t yet, it’s not going to.  Then she pointed out a wrinkle across my nose and now, I deserve a present.  It just better not be Botox.

Anyhoo…let me present my thoughts, not necessarily in order…

  • Why does anyone make the fat girl carry all the food from the concession stand?
  • There sure are a lot of high heels here…at an all day musical festival.  Someone is gonna end up with “grocery store feet.”
  • There are A LOT of tight shorts here.  Like, A LOT.  These women look like sausages.
  • Why is everyone wearing cut off jeans and why are they cut SO SHORT?!?!?  it’s awkward.  Crap, eye contact. 
  • Oh, the leggings…so tight, I can see through them, tucked into the boots…oh, and she isn’t wearing underwear. Crap, we just made eye contact.
  • How many of you twits decided to forgo the bra?  Is that a country music thing?  No bras?  There’s so much side boob.
  • Speaking of boob…those are HUGE!!!!  seriously…my back hurts for you…they look like they need stilts like the houses on the beach. Whups…she bumped into me with those things…well, me and three others, I think she knocked a child down.
  • Is she REALLY pole dancing on the row sign?  Because, awesome and bad.
  • Damn…drunk guys can’t hold their beer.  Seriously, I have seen more drunk dudes spill beer than drunk girls.  Guess we ARE the superior gender…INYOFACE!!!!
  • Did they just break up?  I think they did?  She is pisssssed.  Cool. Wife has told me for the 4th time to quit staring.  Doesn’t she know me?
  • There is an astonishing amount of fake tanner.  And bronzer.  Hope no one sweats, this could get ugly.
  • Are those two dancing?  Dry humping?  Both?
  • I didn’t know they made jeans that tight.  For guys…I can coun- nevermind.  Wife needs to quit telling me to stop staring.  I can’t help it. 
  • Oh, that’s nice, they cleared an area OVER THERE for line dancing and two stepping, so please, just stand in front of me and dance…
  • Oh…that’s cute…for the 15th time, they are going to try to two step.  neither of them has rhythm, but never give up…just move OVER THERE.
  • DAMNIT, how do I not have my phone handy for that EPIC 15 second dance routine???  Because it’s soooo common to see a 65-year-old woman with a cane and a sturdy buzz getting jiggy with it in front of me to ZZ Top’s Sharp Dressed Man?!?!  Damnit all!!!
  • I am spending an inordinate amount of time watching those two guys work on those three girls.  It’s sad and they can’t dance. (side note: they never got digits, never got laid, BUT the ladies did get free beer, lots of free beer)
  • There should be a clothing drive at music fests to replace all the ripped jeans.  That can’t STILL be a style, right?  Who said the 80’s is dead…????
  • Should I tell that man that no man should ever wear white jeans, that tight.  With cowboy boots.  and a tank top.  never.  ever.

I am still using my eye drops because I was afraid to blink and my eyes dried out…or just seeing all….that…requires much washing.

when’s the next one?  cause I.can’t.wait.

Now I’m me.

At dinner the other night, the question came up “are you doing what you always wanted to do?”

Then I answered, “no, I wanted to be a nurse…”

I’ve thought about it and I want to change my answer…

Yes.I.Am. 

When I was 8, I wanted to be a Barbie.   When I was 13, I wanted to be a teacher.  When I was 18, I wanted to be a nurse.

At 20, I wanted to be a mommy.

At 21, I became an office manager/accounting/bossypants person. 

At 35, I became a single mommy.  I also became my true self.

At 41, I became her Mrs.

I realized that things in my life made me take different roads, to change who I was, so I could adapt to a situation.  I learned early in life to always be pleasing.  To always accommodate whatever someone else wanted.  It defined me for my teenage years and my early and middle adult years.  I don’t think I actually ever did anything FOR ME, until I hit about 40.  

Let me tell you, it’s been empowering and uplifting.  It’s been terrifying and at times aggravating.  I find it easy to slip back into accommodation mode to avoid conflict, to make others happy.  And to be honest, I feel yucky when I do it.  

I can look back at significant moments in my life when I reached a fork in the road and took the road that I felt I was supposed to take, rather than the road that my instincts told me to take.  Eventually, each time I took the road that I wasn’t 100% about, it blew up in my face.  Most times, spectacularly.  Only thing that I could do at that moment was pick myself up and dust off.   

As I’ve gotten older, I have learned to trust my instincts.  The last time I didn’t trust them, it cost me dearly and I still feel from the fact that instead of trusting my “gut”, I kept it to myself…and it blew up.  

I’ve spent a lot of time not talking, not blogging, not journaling, just being alone in my head, trying to figure shit out and heal. And re-learning what I’ve spent years practicing…to just listen to my instincts.

At 20, they told me I could handle being a mommy.  They were blessedly right. 

At 21, they told me to take an office job that has led me to a career filled with people and experiences I wouldn’t trade.

At 35, it led me to independence and a new found strength. It also led me to my coming out and eventually my wife.  

No, I’m not a Barbie, or a teacher, or a nurse.  But I’m the best me I can be. Loud, bawdy, quiet and shy.  I’m all of that and more.  
Soon, it will lead me to finally do something I have dreamed of since I was 12, I will become a  writer, hopefully a published one. It is the most terrifying thing ever, but it’s my dream and I plan to do what I always wanted to do…I don’t know what I want to say, but surely, I have plenty to say, right? 

Then the next time I’m asked if I am doing what I wanted to do, I can say  without any hesitation “yes I am!”