i'm thinking that the month of may must have been a good one for me in my younger years. well, a horny and fertile month anyway. two more kids' birthdays this weekend, bennett turns 14 tomorrow and the girl turns 7 on sunday...holy crap, when did that happen?
as my kids get older, it seems to be getting easier to do the whole birthday thing. keeping in mind that i am lazy by nature, birthday celebrations have always been a huge pain in the ass for me. i used to go all out when the kids were younger (before you start engraving my name on that MOTY award, you should know that they didn't get their first real birthday parties until they were 4 - about the time i knew they'd remember if they didn't get one - oh yea, it's all about me), but now i am constantly looking for ways to pawn them off (the party, not the kids - although...) on someone else, or at the very least minimize my personal role in them...the girl is still very much into them, but the boys are very easily pacified with sleepovers and pizza. have i mentioned how much i truly love low-maintanence ANYthing?
today i picked up 4 smelly boys from school and brought them home, listened to them fart, burp, play on the 360 and laugh for a couple of hours, fed them pizza (delivered to my door, oh yea - LOVE suburbia!) then dropped them off at the movies armed with movie tickets and $30 for snacks (like this is gonna go far, right?) as well as explicit instructions that if they were to get thrown out of the theatre for any reason, tough luck, they sit out in the cold and wait - this ride rolls on at 9pm; no earlier, no later. have fun, behave - later doods, i've got CSI reruns to watch. (oh yea...that JUST happened). i picked them up a couple of hours later, brought them home, pointed them in the direction of the cake i had baked earlier (half eaten because, well brader, brynn and i wanted some and gee bennett, you weren't around to sing happy birthday to, so tough titty said the kitty- at least we saved you some), pulled out a few sleeping bags and tossed them in the office, told them to try and not wake the dead after midnight and bid them good night. done aaaaaaaaaaand done...next?
the girl is a bit more expensive, but still only minimally labor-intensive; mama's got it goin on...oh yea we're talkin a well-oiled machine baby. tomorrow i pick up the cupcake-cake at 10:15 (omg these are so cute and hey - no plates, no forks - bonus!), pick up a couple of the girls at 10:30, get to Color-Me-Mine by 11:00, they entertain 10 squealing girls (this includes braden) for two hours, i pass out cupcakes and juice boxes towards the end...VOILA! i'm done until september, OO-EEE, OO-EEE!
you can't see me dancing, but i am definintely doing it; uh-huh-uh-huh, uh-huh-uh-huh-uh HUH! now, since my life rarely goes as planned, things could change between now and 1pm tomorrow afternoon - but i be thinking that by this time tomorrow night, i'll be relaxing with the Man and a bottle of wine in front of the fire knowing hey, life is good...and my babies be growing up just fine.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
is she really her mother's dot...?
oh yea, that's my girl -could you not just eat up all the goober-lisciousness?
...i didn't get these loaded in chronological order (as hard as i tried), but if you look through them you can see that we started out as lovely as all get-out...but true to her nature, she soon tired of the snapping of pictures. good Lord, what a ham-burger...
she was headed to the father/daughter dance at school friday night. in spite of her mother, she really gets into it - we're talkin' a really big deal here, she and i go about a week ahead of time to pick out a beautiful new dress with all the trimmings (really - could we have found a bigger bow?)(and yes, it is painfully clear that i am completely bow-retarded), we take the dress next door for a coordinating custom-made "For My Girl" hair bow, we do whatever it is we can do with that hair and then her dad picks her up (speechless as always at her luminous beauty) and takes her to a "fancy" dinner. they head out to the dance and it's out on the floor to bust some serious dance moves...we got a little Chicken Dance, some Hokey-Pokey and the ever-popular La Macarena goin on - oh yea, nothing like some kick-ass tunes to get down wit yo bad self...
ah, my baby...what a true beauty you are.
happy tuesday!
oh yeeeea, there is actually someone out there who is rivalling me for that ever-elusive Parent-Of-The-Year award, LOL!
Thursday, February 15, 2007
happy birthday morgan lynne...
weird day...not bad, just feeling reflective i guess. today is my daughter's birthday...she would be (and this oughtta freak you out) 17 as of about 9:30 this morning. she is on my mind often, but mostly on the days of her birth and of her death.
the most bizarre part for me is that i always try to imagine what my life would be like if she were here with me now...i think everything would be drastically different. i firmly believe that i wouldn't have the kids i have now, and that alone kinda freaks me out. my life took a different path the day she died, what i didn't know then was that i was trading her life for those of bennett, braden and brynn. i was sacrificing her for the life i have today and i'm not sure how i feel about that...i try to live my life with no regrets (although, let's be honest...there are definitely things i should *seriously* regret, LOL!), but that's hard when you are dealing with the loss of a child.
she was born on february 15, 1990...she was a big girl for a first baby and i was a complete mess physically after i had her. i remember so clearly my very serious, very professional ob/gyn coming in a few hours after i had given birth. she came in and told me to roll over so she could check my stitches (oh yay...), she then proceeds to marvel at the size of the hemorrhoids i was sporting in the old nether regions. i can hear her voice still (she's asian, so please excuse my political incorrectness - you need to get the entire gist of the conversation) as she tells me, "oh my, my you half HUGE hemo-woid. you half TREE huge hemo-woid. no inta-cose fo yew fo long time. no, no, no inta-cose fo yew dea, i siwious - dis is BIG hemo-woid, LAHGE HEMO-WOID, you unnuh-stan me???" (wonderful doctor - superb doctor, but i still giggle when i think about her all concerned for my ass's health, like i'm actually going out trolling for wanker after grinding a 9 pound eggplant outta my parts...uh, no worries there doc.) i had broken blood vessels in both eyes, i think my entire face had swollen to about 3 times the size it should have been and when i stood up it seriously felt like my whole massive cooder was going to fall right onto the floor where i stood - i was a mess, but i had my girl.
10 months and 7 days later, on december 22, 1990, on a saturday morning, she was gone. she developed bacterial menengitis, died within hours of being diagnosed and i was no longer a mother. just like that - i woke up that morning being her mom and went to bed that night no longer playing out that amazing role. of course, she is still my child - she will always be my child, she is my guardian angel. she watches out for me, she guides me and she shakes her head at what a dork i can be. she reminds me on occasion that all things have a purpose, even when it doesn't seem to be true. i feel her near when i'm questioning my ability to be a good parent, when i've had it and don't want to be their mom anymore, she tells me i'm doing ok and to hang in there. she speaks to me when i see teenage girls wearing practically nothing except a ton of makeup, out in places they probably shouldn't be with people they definitely shouldn't be and she tells me that brynn will be ok at that age. she tells me to look at her and how good she's turned out as a teenager (do i imagine she says this with a tad of her mother's sacrcastic, biting wit?).
she calms me. she helps me to understand that life goes on, even when you think it shouldn't; when you think it most definitely should stop, if only for a moment, in honor of something wonderful that is gone. she teaches me to be a better mother. she teaches me to enjoy even the shittiest of moments for what they are - something that has altered a life somehow, somewhere - for better or for worse; something that may never again be repeated, something that can disappear in a moment's notice. a part of life that needed to be lived, for whatever reason.
as horrible and devastating as it was to lose a child, i realize that it was necessary to become who i am at this moment. it was probably necessary for other people to have known her and experienced her life and death in order to become who they are today. for each of the times that i have questioned God's Plan (and if he even freakin HAD one), there were even more times that i saw clearly what it could be, what it should be, what it is...
on that note, i leave telling you that my niece brittnie gave birth to a baby boy today, in the same hospital and on the same day that i had my child 17 years ago...pretty stinkin cool huh?
the most bizarre part for me is that i always try to imagine what my life would be like if she were here with me now...i think everything would be drastically different. i firmly believe that i wouldn't have the kids i have now, and that alone kinda freaks me out. my life took a different path the day she died, what i didn't know then was that i was trading her life for those of bennett, braden and brynn. i was sacrificing her for the life i have today and i'm not sure how i feel about that...i try to live my life with no regrets (although, let's be honest...there are definitely things i should *seriously* regret, LOL!), but that's hard when you are dealing with the loss of a child.
she was born on february 15, 1990...she was a big girl for a first baby and i was a complete mess physically after i had her. i remember so clearly my very serious, very professional ob/gyn coming in a few hours after i had given birth. she came in and told me to roll over so she could check my stitches (oh yay...), she then proceeds to marvel at the size of the hemorrhoids i was sporting in the old nether regions. i can hear her voice still (she's asian, so please excuse my political incorrectness - you need to get the entire gist of the conversation) as she tells me, "oh my, my you half HUGE hemo-woid. you half TREE huge hemo-woid. no inta-cose fo yew fo long time. no, no, no inta-cose fo yew dea, i siwious - dis is BIG hemo-woid, LAHGE HEMO-WOID, you unnuh-stan me???" (wonderful doctor - superb doctor, but i still giggle when i think about her all concerned for my ass's health, like i'm actually going out trolling for wanker after grinding a 9 pound eggplant outta my parts...uh, no worries there doc.) i had broken blood vessels in both eyes, i think my entire face had swollen to about 3 times the size it should have been and when i stood up it seriously felt like my whole massive cooder was going to fall right onto the floor where i stood - i was a mess, but i had my girl.
10 months and 7 days later, on december 22, 1990, on a saturday morning, she was gone. she developed bacterial menengitis, died within hours of being diagnosed and i was no longer a mother. just like that - i woke up that morning being her mom and went to bed that night no longer playing out that amazing role. of course, she is still my child - she will always be my child, she is my guardian angel. she watches out for me, she guides me and she shakes her head at what a dork i can be. she reminds me on occasion that all things have a purpose, even when it doesn't seem to be true. i feel her near when i'm questioning my ability to be a good parent, when i've had it and don't want to be their mom anymore, she tells me i'm doing ok and to hang in there. she speaks to me when i see teenage girls wearing practically nothing except a ton of makeup, out in places they probably shouldn't be with people they definitely shouldn't be and she tells me that brynn will be ok at that age. she tells me to look at her and how good she's turned out as a teenager (do i imagine she says this with a tad of her mother's sacrcastic, biting wit?).
she calms me. she helps me to understand that life goes on, even when you think it shouldn't; when you think it most definitely should stop, if only for a moment, in honor of something wonderful that is gone. she teaches me to be a better mother. she teaches me to enjoy even the shittiest of moments for what they are - something that has altered a life somehow, somewhere - for better or for worse; something that may never again be repeated, something that can disappear in a moment's notice. a part of life that needed to be lived, for whatever reason.
as horrible and devastating as it was to lose a child, i realize that it was necessary to become who i am at this moment. it was probably necessary for other people to have known her and experienced her life and death in order to become who they are today. for each of the times that i have questioned God's Plan (and if he even freakin HAD one), there were even more times that i saw clearly what it could be, what it should be, what it is...
on that note, i leave telling you that my niece brittnie gave birth to a baby boy today, in the same hospital and on the same day that i had my child 17 years ago...pretty stinkin cool huh?
love is in the air...
aren't they beautious? roses are one of those things that i always say not to buy...yes they are beautiful, yes they smell wonderful and yes they say "i love you..." in a special way, but they are outrageously expensive and they die and that always makes me a bit sad.
i gotta say though, not expecting them (nope, not even for a second) and then getting them made me smile hugely...a big, giant, completely dorky smile and then they made my voice change...how does that happen? how does my voice go up so abnormally high without me even realizing it until it escapes from my mouth? i get that stupid "OMG they are sooooo beautiful, oooh thank you soooo much, OMG you didn't have to, but i'm soooo glad you did!!!" squealing from my lips. ok, it doesn't read nearly as gross as it sounds - it sounds really bad and i regret it as soon as it's out. sorta. i sorta regret it because it's such a chick thing to do, but i sorta don't regret it too, because i know that it speaks volumes (and not only the nails-on-a-chalkboard kind) to the one i'm shrieking to...it tells him that he has just done something that has caused me to abandon my generally (ok, *really*) cool nature and just be a chick.
he digs that and i dig him. thank you baby, for making me act like a girl once or twice a year. my world is such a better place because of you...
Friday, February 9, 2007
some juvenile humor...
Feelin' frisky...
A lady who had been married for several years was growing more and more frustrated at her husband's lack of interest in sex. She wondered about ways to add some pizzazz to their sexual relationship, and finally decided to purchase some crotchless underwear she had seen in a lingerie shop. One evening when she was feeling particularly desirous, and he was, as usual, watching television, she took a shower, freshened up, and donned the crotchless undies and a slinky negligee. She then strolled between her husband and the television, and suggestively tossed one leg up on his chair arm. "You want some of this, tiger?" she purred. "Are you freakin' kidding me?" he replied. "Jesus! Look what it did to your underwear!"
A lady who had been married for several years was growing more and more frustrated at her husband's lack of interest in sex. She wondered about ways to add some pizzazz to their sexual relationship, and finally decided to purchase some crotchless underwear she had seen in a lingerie shop. One evening when she was feeling particularly desirous, and he was, as usual, watching television, she took a shower, freshened up, and donned the crotchless undies and a slinky negligee. She then strolled between her husband and the television, and suggestively tossed one leg up on his chair arm. "You want some of this, tiger?" she purred. "Are you freakin' kidding me?" he replied. "Jesus! Look what it did to your underwear!"
find yourself bored today?
"Things to do When You're Bored"
this guy is killing meeee OMG, *why* am i laughing at this???
...who has the time (uhm, not to mention the imagination) for this shit???
Thursday, February 8, 2007
my name is shawna and i'm a road rager.
that should probably be enough...but i'm such a hypocritical bitch about it.
i'm driving to get my hairs cut this morning (not in a hurry for once, just cruisin along - quite possibly some slick, head-bobbin dance moves happenin' on my part). i'm tooling through an intersection and some chick on my right blows me off just as our two lanes are merging into one approaching a stop sign. either she had a live bat up her ass and was racing to 'show and tell' for the kids before it escaped, or maybe she just needed to satisfy that dale earnhardt we all find in ourselves from time to time. regardless of the bitch's reasons, bottom line, she *had* to beat me to the stop sign 50 yards ahead. normally this in itself would piss me off...but then i see her on her mo-fo'ing phone AND turned around swinging at something...my take was that she was attempting to beat a small child, but maybe she was groping for the mascara wand that flew out of her dirty, speeding, phone-talking, perfectly manicured hand - who knows? doesn't matter...she turned my perfectly serene, practically happy drive into town into something downright ugly.
ok...so we get to the stop sign (which i broke all speed records to get to by staying on her ass the entire way just so i could show her maybe she just fucked with the wrong sub-drivin soccer mom - all the while burning up enough fuel to power a small country for a day), and she finds herself behind a telephone company truck who's driver is also on the phone and seemingly not in any particular hurry to depart the immediate stop sign area...i can see her head bobbing side to side, trying to figure out WHY won't this thing MOVE? she proceeds to ride his ass up the road through about 4 intersections (and yes, i was still riding hers - "see honey? i'm going where you are and i'm in just as much of a hurry as you so nyeah nyeah you dumbass"), but by now i have such a shitty smirk on my face because she keeps getting stuck at red lights and stop signs behind this truck, with nowhere to pass. i'm still stuck to her like butt-glue, all smiling and relaxed and junk cause i could see her looking at me in her rearview mirror. her head is still frantically bobbing back and forth and i can see her mouth flapping in her sideview mirror, she has hit her steering wheel a time or two with her hand and is clearly agitated - SHE'S IN A HURRY, gawddammit, doesn't everyone on the road recognize that?!?
ok - so that was mostly the best parts of my story...well, except the part where she finally goes to make a left hand turn (BEHIND the telephone truck, who has just blasted through a yellow-turning-red light with a speed no one had previously known he was capable of) and gets stuck at the red light. i cruise by her s-l-o-wl-y, major-wattage smile on my face, waving to her as i pass on by through my (oh-thank-you-lord-for-catering-to-my-passive-agressive-nature) *GREEN* light...
i win - WHOOHOO, go me!
and just like that...all is good in my world again - well, until my cell phone rings and my hair chick says she's giving my spot to someone else if i don't get my ass in her chair, like 10 minutes ago, so i cut left in front of an old couple heading to denny's for the senior grand slam special, and then slammed on my brakes, scaring the pee out of grams who can barely see where she is going (hey gramma! if you can't see over the dash, you shouldn't be out here in the freakin Titanic anyway, now MOVE your ass - can't you see i'm in a HURRY?!?) and begin frantically searching around my feet for my chapstick that has flown off my dash and landed somewhere under my gas pedal, while barely making the light for a left hand turn through a major intersection on two wheels, as i'm yelling into the phone "I'LL BE THERE IN 2 SECONDS - WAIT FOR ME!!!"
and oh yes, my hair looks fabulous...
i'm driving to get my hairs cut this morning (not in a hurry for once, just cruisin along - quite possibly some slick, head-bobbin dance moves happenin' on my part). i'm tooling through an intersection and some chick on my right blows me off just as our two lanes are merging into one approaching a stop sign. either she had a live bat up her ass and was racing to 'show and tell' for the kids before it escaped, or maybe she just needed to satisfy that dale earnhardt we all find in ourselves from time to time. regardless of the bitch's reasons, bottom line, she *had* to beat me to the stop sign 50 yards ahead. normally this in itself would piss me off...but then i see her on her mo-fo'ing phone AND turned around swinging at something...my take was that she was attempting to beat a small child, but maybe she was groping for the mascara wand that flew out of her dirty, speeding, phone-talking, perfectly manicured hand - who knows? doesn't matter...she turned my perfectly serene, practically happy drive into town into something downright ugly.
ok...so we get to the stop sign (which i broke all speed records to get to by staying on her ass the entire way just so i could show her maybe she just fucked with the wrong sub-drivin soccer mom - all the while burning up enough fuel to power a small country for a day), and she finds herself behind a telephone company truck who's driver is also on the phone and seemingly not in any particular hurry to depart the immediate stop sign area...i can see her head bobbing side to side, trying to figure out WHY won't this thing MOVE? she proceeds to ride his ass up the road through about 4 intersections (and yes, i was still riding hers - "see honey? i'm going where you are and i'm in just as much of a hurry as you so nyeah nyeah you dumbass"), but by now i have such a shitty smirk on my face because she keeps getting stuck at red lights and stop signs behind this truck, with nowhere to pass. i'm still stuck to her like butt-glue, all smiling and relaxed and junk cause i could see her looking at me in her rearview mirror. her head is still frantically bobbing back and forth and i can see her mouth flapping in her sideview mirror, she has hit her steering wheel a time or two with her hand and is clearly agitated - SHE'S IN A HURRY, gawddammit, doesn't everyone on the road recognize that?!?
ok - so that was mostly the best parts of my story...well, except the part where she finally goes to make a left hand turn (BEHIND the telephone truck, who has just blasted through a yellow-turning-red light with a speed no one had previously known he was capable of) and gets stuck at the red light. i cruise by her s-l-o-wl-y, major-wattage smile on my face, waving to her as i pass on by through my (oh-thank-you-lord-for-catering-to-my-passive-agressive-nature) *GREEN* light...
i win - WHOOHOO, go me!
and just like that...all is good in my world again - well, until my cell phone rings and my hair chick says she's giving my spot to someone else if i don't get my ass in her chair, like 10 minutes ago, so i cut left in front of an old couple heading to denny's for the senior grand slam special, and then slammed on my brakes, scaring the pee out of grams who can barely see where she is going (hey gramma! if you can't see over the dash, you shouldn't be out here in the freakin Titanic anyway, now MOVE your ass - can't you see i'm in a HURRY?!?) and begin frantically searching around my feet for my chapstick that has flown off my dash and landed somewhere under my gas pedal, while barely making the light for a left hand turn through a major intersection on two wheels, as i'm yelling into the phone "I'LL BE THERE IN 2 SECONDS - WAIT FOR ME!!!"
and oh yes, my hair looks fabulous...
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
uhhh, i lied....so deal.
ok, really truly the last scientifically-based test i'm taking today...i have no clue what the hell "an INFP" is or if i really am one, but the rest of this is pretty damn close (especially the part about living in my "own inner world" - and oh what a scary, scary little place it is...)
and by the way - i'm loving this whole 'psychologist' thing - i think i'll tell THEEX he was right all along, LOL!
| You Are An INFP |
The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist. |
and by the way - i'm loving this whole 'psychologist' thing - i think i'll tell THEEX he was right all along, LOL!
he thinks he's the lucky one...
“Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the man who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky he is to have you.... The one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.' ” [unknown]
found this quote on another site and was gonna put it in my favorite quote section...but the more i thought about it, i decided i wanted to give my Man his props...he *is* this person. to tell the truth, i wasn't sure mine existed...but i'm here to tell you - he does and i've found him.
last one...cereally
| You're Totally Sarcastic |
 You sarcastic? Never! You're as sweet as a baby bunny. Seriously, though, you have a sharp tongue - and you aren't afraid to use it. And if people are too wimpy to deal with your attitutde, then too bad. So sad. |
Saturday, February 3, 2007
contemplating the big and the not-so-big
yay - it's a beautiful day and my Man will be here in about 7 hours (woo-hoo!), tomorrow is the superbowl (which, because my baby brett isn't playing, really only means an excuse to sit around and graze like a cow all day, LOL!) and my Man is gonna be here in about 7 hours. did i mention that my Man was gonna be here in about 7 hours? well, he is (mmmm...)
was reading a bit on my gal La's blog and she brought up something really interesting that i've given a lot of thought to over the years...(go read her post and meet me back here in 2). i left a historically long "comment" there and am feeling the need to make it even longer here, LOL!
my best sistah kath and i have been friends since october of 1979. she is a smart, insightful, dry, sarcastic, matter-of-fact, tell-it-like-it-is, funny, beautiful, self-proclaimed "big girl" who has kick-ass dance moves (how come big girls dance so much better than us sticks?). to be honest, in our mid-teens we looked like freakin laurel and hardy. i was 5'10" and went about a buck+10 (fully dressed in winter, soaking wet and more than likely sportin some kickin cork platforms) and she was maybe 5'4" and a buck and a half (gawd, please forgive me if i'm off, kat-tee!) . let's say we were rather mismatched physically, yet emotionally and maturity-wise, there were never two more compatible morons, LOL!
we were practically inseparable, did almost everything together...for example, a typical saturday we'd wake up and call each other even before the morning pee (did that once we were on the phone), we would talk for a couple of hours (keep in mind we lived right down the street from one another and went to school together all week) and then get dressed and meet each other halfway between our houses and hang out all day. one of us would spend the night with the other and we'd hang out all day sunday. sunday night (probably about 8pm after we had dinner with each other's families) we would walk the other halfway home...we would stand there and talk (because how can we possible say everything there is to say in just two whole days?!?), we would do this stupid "boner and nu-nu" thing ( sorry, i CANNOT even go there - they were these physical contortions that you simply had to see to appreciate - well, or not) over a sewer grate (uhhh...yea. there was this specific spot to do it on), then we would walk home and call each other on the phone...getting the picture? we were complete co-dependant dorks...
where i'm going is here: i learned a lot about how big girls feel as compared to thin girls. looking back at our friendship, life is different for people who are physical opposites. it's just how it is...on the surface, she was outgoing and gregarious - i was shy and introverted...inside both of us were all of these things. we were, however, treated so differently by the general population due to, in my opinion, the way we differed physically. so many people would say anything to her and those same people were very cautious about what they said to me. she was approachable, i was not. i think they were more leery of offending me than they were of her. where does this come from? do big girls feel safer and more welcoming than not-so-big girls?
my observation is that there is a common misconception at work here; big girls are naturally insecure and need reassurance, thin girls are naturally cocky and full of themselves. wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, oh-so-freaking wrong! generally speaking the world seems to believe that thin is beautiful and fat (please please please forgive my use of *that* word) is ugly, that thin takes work and fat is lazy. wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, this time oh-so-fucking wrong! some of us are born thin, and stay thin - some of us are born big and stay big - some of us are born big and get thin, some are born thin and get big (everybody get the shit i'm tossin here?)...all of us have our insecurities, some justified, some not. so what? we all look hot to someone out there, just as we all aren't someone else's cup of tea...
la questioned whether or not someone paying her a compliment was being sincere or patronizing her - she wondered if the lady might have followed up her comments with "...for a big girl". having met la, i'm sure this lady was sincere in her compliment - la is tits, la *has* tits, la is all woman and i think she mostly knows it - she exudes confidence, period. THAT is beautiful, THAT is attractive and THAT is sexy to me, as well as most men i've talked to about it. big or thin, flashy or plain, confidence (not egotism - there's a huge difference, LOL!) is hot. hot can be intimidating...probably any woman has trouble complimenting a hot chick. hot chicks can make us feel inferior - well they sometimes make me feel inferior, LOL! but my opinion? hot big girls are hotter than hot thin girls. big girls have more obstacles and prejudices to overcome internally before they determine they are hot in their *own* minds, therefore building the confidence needed to exude "hotness". the hot big girl says, "you know what? kiss my ass...i'm big, i'm beautiful and i'm confident, regardless of what society says and oh yea, my wardrobe is the shit too!" who doesn't think callie o'malley is one sexy bitch?!?
...my hesitation in handing out compliments is that i want to be sure it is taken in the way i intend it - sincerely. not condescendingly and not enviously. i'll tell you what goes through my head (as a thin girl) before i deliver a compliment - is this chick gonna open up a can of whuppass on me because she thinks i'm surprised that she can look good? is she gonna smirk at me because she thinks i'm envious and wish i looked like her? or is she gonna be pleased that i noticed that she had her shit together and i wasn't afraid or too busy or too insecure to tell her so? being perfectly honest here it *is* much more comfortable for me to compliment a big girl than it is a thin girl...but i've made myself deal with that, 'cause thin girls need lovin too. they aren't all so full of themselves that they don't like to hear nice things now and then. it's nice to feel that you look good - but it's really nice to know other people think so too.
so i compliment all kinds of people, for lots of different reasons - regardless of their size...if they don't appreciate my compliment or take it in the wrong way then they can bite my butt - i'm not so insecure (or stuck on myself for that matter) that i can't recognize class and confidence for what it is...it is beautiful and it is sexy and sometimes it's ballsy and in your face. just remember for some people, it takes guts for them to pay a compliment...accept their compliment with grace and a genuine thank you (if you downplay it or deny it you are essentially telling this chick that her opinion reeks and she has no idea what she is talking about), remember how good it feels to hear it and pass it along. life is too short to keep these nice, complimentary thoughts tucked away in your head - who gives a shit what reaction you get. you paid the compliment for what it was and in my book, that is just cool.
was reading a bit on my gal La's blog and she brought up something really interesting that i've given a lot of thought to over the years...(go read her post and meet me back here in 2). i left a historically long "comment" there and am feeling the need to make it even longer here, LOL!
my best sistah kath and i have been friends since october of 1979. she is a smart, insightful, dry, sarcastic, matter-of-fact, tell-it-like-it-is, funny, beautiful, self-proclaimed "big girl" who has kick-ass dance moves (how come big girls dance so much better than us sticks?). to be honest, in our mid-teens we looked like freakin laurel and hardy. i was 5'10" and went about a buck+10 (fully dressed in winter, soaking wet and more than likely sportin some kickin cork platforms) and she was maybe 5'4" and a buck and a half (gawd, please forgive me if i'm off, kat-tee!) . let's say we were rather mismatched physically, yet emotionally and maturity-wise, there were never two more compatible morons, LOL!
we were practically inseparable, did almost everything together...for example, a typical saturday we'd wake up and call each other even before the morning pee (did that once we were on the phone), we would talk for a couple of hours (keep in mind we lived right down the street from one another and went to school together all week) and then get dressed and meet each other halfway between our houses and hang out all day. one of us would spend the night with the other and we'd hang out all day sunday. sunday night (probably about 8pm after we had dinner with each other's families) we would walk the other halfway home...we would stand there and talk (because how can we possible say everything there is to say in just two whole days?!?), we would do this stupid "boner and nu-nu" thing ( sorry, i CANNOT even go there - they were these physical contortions that you simply had to see to appreciate - well, or not) over a sewer grate (uhhh...yea. there was this specific spot to do it on), then we would walk home and call each other on the phone...getting the picture? we were complete co-dependant dorks...
where i'm going is here: i learned a lot about how big girls feel as compared to thin girls. looking back at our friendship, life is different for people who are physical opposites. it's just how it is...on the surface, she was outgoing and gregarious - i was shy and introverted...inside both of us were all of these things. we were, however, treated so differently by the general population due to, in my opinion, the way we differed physically. so many people would say anything to her and those same people were very cautious about what they said to me. she was approachable, i was not. i think they were more leery of offending me than they were of her. where does this come from? do big girls feel safer and more welcoming than not-so-big girls?
my observation is that there is a common misconception at work here; big girls are naturally insecure and need reassurance, thin girls are naturally cocky and full of themselves. wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, oh-so-freaking wrong! generally speaking the world seems to believe that thin is beautiful and fat (please please please forgive my use of *that* word) is ugly, that thin takes work and fat is lazy. wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, this time oh-so-fucking wrong! some of us are born thin, and stay thin - some of us are born big and stay big - some of us are born big and get thin, some are born thin and get big (everybody get the shit i'm tossin here?)...all of us have our insecurities, some justified, some not. so what? we all look hot to someone out there, just as we all aren't someone else's cup of tea...
la questioned whether or not someone paying her a compliment was being sincere or patronizing her - she wondered if the lady might have followed up her comments with "...for a big girl". having met la, i'm sure this lady was sincere in her compliment - la is tits, la *has* tits, la is all woman and i think she mostly knows it - she exudes confidence, period. THAT is beautiful, THAT is attractive and THAT is sexy to me, as well as most men i've talked to about it. big or thin, flashy or plain, confidence (not egotism - there's a huge difference, LOL!) is hot. hot can be intimidating...probably any woman has trouble complimenting a hot chick. hot chicks can make us feel inferior - well they sometimes make me feel inferior, LOL! but my opinion? hot big girls are hotter than hot thin girls. big girls have more obstacles and prejudices to overcome internally before they determine they are hot in their *own* minds, therefore building the confidence needed to exude "hotness". the hot big girl says, "you know what? kiss my ass...i'm big, i'm beautiful and i'm confident, regardless of what society says and oh yea, my wardrobe is the shit too!" who doesn't think callie o'malley is one sexy bitch?!?
...my hesitation in handing out compliments is that i want to be sure it is taken in the way i intend it - sincerely. not condescendingly and not enviously. i'll tell you what goes through my head (as a thin girl) before i deliver a compliment - is this chick gonna open up a can of whuppass on me because she thinks i'm surprised that she can look good? is she gonna smirk at me because she thinks i'm envious and wish i looked like her? or is she gonna be pleased that i noticed that she had her shit together and i wasn't afraid or too busy or too insecure to tell her so? being perfectly honest here it *is* much more comfortable for me to compliment a big girl than it is a thin girl...but i've made myself deal with that, 'cause thin girls need lovin too. they aren't all so full of themselves that they don't like to hear nice things now and then. it's nice to feel that you look good - but it's really nice to know other people think so too.
so i compliment all kinds of people, for lots of different reasons - regardless of their size...if they don't appreciate my compliment or take it in the wrong way then they can bite my butt - i'm not so insecure (or stuck on myself for that matter) that i can't recognize class and confidence for what it is...it is beautiful and it is sexy and sometimes it's ballsy and in your face. just remember for some people, it takes guts for them to pay a compliment...accept their compliment with grace and a genuine thank you (if you downplay it or deny it you are essentially telling this chick that her opinion reeks and she has no idea what she is talking about), remember how good it feels to hear it and pass it along. life is too short to keep these nice, complimentary thoughts tucked away in your head - who gives a shit what reaction you get. you paid the compliment for what it was and in my book, that is just cool.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
moving on
i (gasp!) suffer from clinical depression. i have been struggling with it probably for about 5 years, only having acknowledged it about 3 years ago and am currently on a lovely cocktail (pffft, i said cock) of prozac and wellbutrin. most of the time, i feel in control - more so now than ever before- but sometimes there are things that threaten to push me back into that dark place. it's a very real, very frightening place that cannot be imagined - it has to be experienced to understand the depths that your mind is capable of catapulting you to.descending into it was like nothing i've ever experienced before - i didn't know it for what it was, i just blindly, cluelessly followed wherever it led me. i was so sad. bawl-my-eyes-for-no-reason sad. i found myself carrying around so much despair, then i began to feel the guilt for being so sad and such a headcase - there was no apparent reason for it. i had three beautiful, healthy, punk-ass kids who meant the world to me; i had a husband who, despite our problems, took care of me financially and tried his best to make my world as right as he could. i had a beautiful home, a functioning car, i should have felt just fine. instead, my world was closing in, beginning to feel smaller and smaller. my life and the impact i made was becoming less and less significant. i became about attempting to please everyone around me, i think in the hopes that this would give my existence significance and possibly help me to find the path to joy again. there was joy in nothing surrounding me. my mind said it should be everywhere, but my soul couldn't find a trace of it.
pulling out of it was an amazing experience, medication is a wonderful thing - i am a strong and true advocate of anti-depressants. after a few months, with the drugs beginning to flood my system, the haze started to rise and certain things became clear to me - things that had been muddied by my state of depression. in addition to beginning to see bright colors again and feeling joy again, i realized that there definitely *were* things in my life that were contributing to my unhappiness - real things, not things that were imagined by my chemical imbalances, but things that had, in fact, been clouded by them.
i believe that a combination of things probably happened to me in order to get to the shitty place i found myself in. depression is an illness - physical, emotional, chemical - i didn't just wake up one morning depressed. there had to be some sort of beginning to it, right? possibly something that i had pushed my body, heart and soul to accept as "normal"; something i was denying myself in my search for balance and normalcy. right or wrong, my mental state appeared to me as shawna telling shawna she needed to chill the hell out and get her shit together or she was just gonna collapse in a corner somewhere and simply waste away. there was no more time for masking it babycakes, no more pretending to be someone you aren't, no more acceptance of the incessant bullshit...no more DENIAL. in one of the clearest moments of my life i realized that *I* was in control of how i felt now, *I* was the one who was ultimately responsible for my happiness. *I* was the one who had the power to fix All Things Fucked Up.
ok, so for all that "sistahs doin it for demselves" crap i just spewed, i was still sick - i *am* still sick. just as you don't wake up depressed one day, you don't just wake up "fixed" either. but now, my attitude finally had my mind's back. i launched into shit-or-get-off-the-pot mode and i'm still reeling from the things i found that absolutely *needed* to be changed. don't get me wrong - i didn't just start maniacally cleaning the house that was my life. i slowly began to re-evaluate and take stock of everything. i'd ask myself, "is this a good thing or a bad thing?" , "is this something i can fix or something beyond repair?", "does this thing benefit my life more than it hinders it?", "is trying to fix this thing going to cost more than it is going to replenish once fixed?". there were things like "am i a shitty person for feeling this way about something?" and "maybe i need to rethink my opinions on certain things, maybe it's *my* perception that is all fucked up?" what i discovered was that laying blame was the easy thing to do - taking responsibility was the true hit to the the balls.
so now...i'm attempting to take responsibility and realize the things i can and cannot "fix". i've begun to take major steps towards the recovery of my mental health - unfortunately, sometimes you backslide, sometimes the things that you are purging bring up emotions you had shoved aside. remember, nothing is all bad - everything has a positive and a negative, each side has ups and downs...unfortunately an imbalance to the benefit of the negative leads to destroying the power of the positive. but even though the good has been defeated, memories of it don't die - there are still the everyday reminders of the hopes, the optimism, the dreams and yes, the good good very good memories. it's those things that catch me off guard, those things that make the sadness swell up inside, the promises that fell, unfulfilled - the dreams that died, unrealized, the plans that truly just weren't meant to happen. these things threaten my strength at times - i feel my breathing become more labored, i feel the anxiety creep up and sometimes the sheer weight of my situation hits me like a ton of bricks. the sadness that floods me is almost overwhelming.
but, the key word is almost...the fact that i have been able to fight back the fear, the anxiety, and the sadness by realizing what a truly good place i find myself in day after day, by being able to find so many things that bring color to my world, by feeling joy - *this* is what tells me i'm going to be ok, this is what tells me i am beginning to heal.
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