Angle of Vision

I'm So Very Wicked, oh my, yes I am

If anyone still checks in after all this time I have impulsively renewed my blog.

So much has happened in my life, whew, where do I begin...

Well I'm going to be wicked and not tell you right at this moment in time. Quite frankly, Dexter, my very favorite serial killer, is going to be on tonight. I got to get my pj’s on, get ready with a nice glass of wine and enjoy the show.

Quilters are more lusty

As I was making the bed yesterday I was thinking...and no, it didn’t hurt.

Sorry, but that’s a common joke around here. If someone say’s “I was thinking...” we always ask, “Did it hurt?”

But any way’s I was thinking about the people who have only dry clean comforters and such on their beds.

My theory is their sex life must not be too good.

Big Guy and I we make quite a lot of body fluids and stuff. You know what I mean. Sometimes we make it under the covers and sometimes not. But I certainly want washable quilts and cozy blankets on my bed. Things I can wash.

Just cause I want and like to make those body fluids doesn’t mean I want to sleep in or on them until I get to the dry cleaners. That’s just nasty.

So here is my theory, quilters or people who buy washable bed linens are more lusty people than the dry cleaning people. Besides being cleaner too.

Just my theory anyways.

“Yeah, isn’t that pathetic?”

Boss and I were driving to another site, which we had been doing most of the day yesterday.

Out of nowhere he says, “We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

And I go, “Yeah, isn’t that pathetic?”

Both of us cracked up and continued to laugh on and off for the next couple of hours when we looked at each other.

Everyone thought we had stopped for a few drinks.

But we were just having some fun.

And it is pathetic.

Only now can I appreciate the good times

I am a piece of kaka for a blog friend aren’t I?

For anyone stopping by to check on me, a big Thank You, that is so sweet. I mean that.

Making it through the holidays without my sister...well...it almost killed me. I am now one of the walking wounded taking the glorious anti-depressant Paxil. I never in my life thought I would see the day when I would end up taking something like that. Never.

But I do feel better now, took a couple of months but I do feel better.

Boy oh boy, did I make Big Guy’s life a living hell. Took out everything on him, gave it my best shot to drive him away. I’m such a horror story.

I sat around talking about what he should do when I die. I wrote down bequeaths and how I wanted a cremation and no ceremony.

Then as a topper I talked about my favorite ways to kill myself. My weariness of living, of existing, of simply being alive made death seem like heaven. I was an asshole through and through.

I made him cry more than once.

The shame I feel for that will probably haunt me forever. How can I forgive myself for being so mean to such a nice, wonderful, man?

At the same time as my ongoing meltdown I kept going in my daily life. Some wonderful, fantastic times happened. I was one of the greatest actresses ever (course I have always said if your married you can act...oops... humor...who’d a thunk?). I felt terrible, hated everyone, but I put a smile of my face and acted my way through the happiness and celebration. Pretended a lot, not just a lot, but all the time I guess.

The stress from that alone damn near killed me. When I look in the mirror now I have aged ten years, no lie, and no exaggeration. The eyes tell it all.

Only now can I appreciate the good times, I guess because of Paxil...and a lot of exercise. No kidding, I’m up to three miles a day walking and other exercises. It definitely did improve my outlook and mood.

Well that’s an update, an honest and true update.

Right now I’m trying to cope with needing this Paxil, I feel such shame for being so weak.

I’m also working hard to reassure my Big Guy, make him feel better. The toll of being around that was hard on him. He took the full brunt of my personal horror story; no one else even had a clue.

I love him; I love my Big Guy down to the marrow of my bones. To think that I hurt him like I did makes me want to weep with shame. I still have a hard time believing I did that.

Well, if any of you have stopped by to check on me, again, a big Thank You. I did think of you even when I was at my bottom and in my heart I was wishing you well. And I missed you.

So there you have it. Do you think badly of me now that you know I’m on Paxil? Do you think I’m less of a human being? Because I feel less, I feel weaker than the rest of you. Why do I need to take something when people with far more problems don’t?

I think of my mother, all she went through in her life, and the shame of having to take a drug hit’s me all over again.

Anyways, it’s past 4AM and I have to get to work on a project. Boss will be here about 9AM and expects me to be finished. Ah well, what can I say? The basic instinct for survival kicks in no matter how low I get, I want to earn that money. Heh.

simple acts of kindness

Couple of our counties got hurt pretty bad from Rita so right now that is where I'm spending some time, helping people.

I found growing up that simple acts of kindness, fleeting moments of kindness, that last ten minutes or less from people left a lasting impression on me. A few of those moments changed my life.

So even though my help with these folks is fleeting, I'm hoping that my simple kindness and a gentle complement towards the children will leave an impression for them like it did for me.

piss ant little hurricane

Electricity just came back on tonight after Rita. Finally. I am so whooped I think I'll sleep like a rock even if it's only cooled down to 84 degrees. That feels cool after this hellish, humid, heat we've been having after that piss ant little hurricane.

Yes, I am ashamed after what those poor people from Katrina went through to even be complaining.

Good night, this old girl is going to bed.

that’s how I thought I felt

When I’m depressed everything seems so muted, so dull, no crisp edges, all a little gray.

I woke up early this morning and that’s how I thought I felt. Worked for a couple of hours, checked some blogs out, read a little, but the world was dark for me.

Then it occurred to me...when was the last time I washed my glasses?

So I washed those buggers...and the world is colorful, crisp, brilliant in it’s color, no gray at all!!

Sometimes I’m so goofy I shock myself.

He gets enough

Rome, the new HBO series is on again tonight.

Every time a sex scene comes on “Rome” Big Guy makes a kind of soft moaning sound.

Involuntary. Not even realizing he’s doing it.

It’s really getting on my nerves. Big Guy, not the series.

He gets enough, so why does he do that?

Just want to know is all.

Words were exchanged rapid fire, bam, bam, bam

Even the best of marriages have their bad moments. Yesterday we were taking care of some financial business at the lawyer’s office.

This business found us on opposite sides.

Whoa, that was a moment that married couples really don’t like to find themselves in at all, not at all.

Let me tell you it brought out our bad sides...instantly.

Words were exchanged rapid fire, bam, bam, bam, and I backed off. This is my Big Guy after all, the love in my life.

So I delayed any action until next week. Big Guy just about blew a gasket on that, but I knew it was the best thing to do until we can resolve this issue.

Act in haste, repent in leisure, I believe that.

Yes it’s all about property and money and what to do with it.

We aren’t talking about a huge amount of either the property or money, depending on how you sit financially anyways. But Big Guy wants the headache of dealing with it over. Just wants it over, cut and run is how he feels about it.

I’m the opposite, I know that I can turn it around; I know I can, and get our money out plus make a profit from this neglected property.

After putting everything off for a couple of weeks, and we were in the parking lot again, getting in the car, words being exchanged fast and furious. Angry recriminations, hurtful insults to each other.

This was not at all how I thought I would be spending my Friday afternoon.

I declared time out, apologized for my behavior and said nothing has to be resolved today.

Big Guy didn’t apologize for his behavior, so now I’m simmering, big time. I’ll have to find a way to let it go.

Our evening didn’t go to bad, we are still on time out until we can find a way to talk about the subject that isn’t confrontational.

But it will have to be resolved, and the problem is I am right and Big Guy is wrong.

I cannot tolerate to lose money on this just because Big Guy “wants the headache” gone.

Now if Big Guy can give me a better argument than that, lay out the reasoning behind this, I might be able to understand and I might even switch over to his side and agree with him.

But it isn’t in me, I’m not capable, just don’t understand the “headache” crap.

I deal with what can and can’t be done, give me reason, give me arguments, I can deal with that, it’s tangible, and makes sense to me.

Big Guy and I are in for a weekend of dancing around each other.

Lord knows I love Big Guy, but this time? This time? Big Guy is wrong.

I’m going to stay in time out for the weekend, examine my thoughts on the subject, my motivations, and reevaluate the situation.

I suppose, maybe I could be wrong...but I know I’m not...

This may be one of those horrible times in a marriage when you really piss your partner off and wait for time to heal the wound. I hope it doesn’t come to that.

Update 1:

I was up at 2:30AM thinking about our problem. What to do, what to do? So I came up with the beginning of a plan.

First I got busy and made a document with bullets that explains what I want to do in black and white.

Then I ended it with how much money will be made. In case you’re interested the amount is $25 to $30 K. nothing to sneeze at is it?

I made Apple Fritters and got the coffee ready for when I heard Big Guy get up.

When he came down I had fresh brewed coffee and Apple Fritters.

After he ate and almost swooned with joy, I asked him when he had a minute to just take a look, just a quick peek, at my document.

Big Guy looked, and then he took another look. Big Guy came up with an issue at which I promptly asked him if he would also document so neither of us will get into any kind of verbal exchange over this. Both Big Guy and myself can be very sharp with our tongues when we want to.

Big Guy had to go into work this morning but he will be home in a couple of hours. I plan we will lunch at his favorite restaurant in Houston.

I think he will come around to my way of thinking, maybe so, maybe not. But one thing I do know I will listen and read and I will hear what he has to say.

I could be wrong...but I don’t think I am...but I could be wrong...maybe.

Update 2:

Remember that old joke,...I’ve been thinking... Oh yeah, does it hurt?

I’ve been thinking...a lot...and yeah, this time it does hurt.

Big Guy presented his conflict with me on paper and I saw immediately I could shoot him out of the water. I knew in that moment I was right, I had won.

But then talking together, after all this back and forth, me demanding what I always want, he pretty much shot me out of the water.

Big Guy says he’s 61 years old and soon to be 62 and he doesn’t want to devote the time to this property. That he wants to play, spend more time with me traveling and enjoy my company. That this property would take time in the next year, not a lot of time but time that he could be spending with me, enjoying me.

How do I argue with that, top that? I won’t.

End of argument.

Have I told anyone lately how much I love my Big Guy?

never said we were angels

So there we were, eating our tea cookies and drinking our tea and talking about the usual subjects. At times adding a little something to our tea to just give it a little zing. I never said we were angels.

One of which is men or should I say Man, like men are a different species or something. Some women say they are a different species. LOL

All three of us are in our fifties yet there we sat, spending a good amount of time talking about men.

So are you curious about what close women friends, our age, share on the subject? Do you think you know? I wonder if what you think we talk about is really what we talk about, if you know what I mean.

So I’ll tell you a little bit.

Women who are older come to the table with history that has shaped them for better or worse.

Myself, I’ve had one man and I’m still married to him. So my history is one man, one marriage.

Another has had three marriages; none long term, and a good amount of men in between those marriages.

Another had a short first marriage, and is in her second long term marriage with a couple of men in between those marriages.

Three women, three very different histories’, yet all three of us have so much in common and so totally understand each other.

So are you curious what we talked about? I'll tell you if you want to know.

Meanwhile, it's off to work I go.

the rewards are the best

Today I’m going to have tea and cookies with two of my friends. I’ll use my Grandma’s teapot and my cups and saucers, sugar and creamer.

In a few minutes I’m going to start making the tea cookies with a nice light lemon frosting.

I’ll put the beautiful tea cookies on a lovely tray.

Crisp cloth napkins, shiny teaspoons, with a beautiful presentation.

I’m breaking out nothing but the best for today.

I love having friends and I treat them with respect and care. Relationships are so fragile, that is something I have learned the hard way. So I give friendship my all, the best that I can give. I show them my passion, my love for them; share myself because the rewards are the best.

We celebrate being together, sharing our good times and bad times. The talk that goes on helps us with our marriages, raising our kids, solving life’s problems.

Today I can almost tell you what will be discussed. Sex, men, adult children, grandkids, debt, aging, diet, and then we will talk about men some more. Because you have to admit men are absolutely so much fun to talk about.

At times we will be serious and at times the laughter will be so hard we will have trouble catching our breath.

I do so love having friends.

I just can’t be mean to him

SpeedoMan cornered me again today in the front yard, damn him. If you’re wondering who SpeedoMan is go ahead and click categories on the left. He leaves me too weary to track back to former posts about him.

Anyways, he cornered me again, yap, yap, yapping about making sure I get the winter garden started on time.

But I just can’t be mean to him. I want to very much, I ache to be mean to him.

But I can’t.

I’ve told you my background, my crazy mother, how can anyone doubt that I believe that there is room in this world for everyone?

But with SpeedoMan I’m beginning to have my doubts.

The man saps my strength, drains it right out of me.

This guy is punishment for something I just know it. I must have done something really, really, bad at one time or another and now I’m stuck with SpeedoMan.

What can I say, the man makes me want to take drugs...heavy drugs...I want to smoke dope all day long and stay stoned.

What is it about this man, how on earth does he leave me in this condition?

I have been through times that were hell on earth and stayed strong, came out on top when others crumbled...and this horror of a man makes me want to give up...get stoned, drunk, whatever.

what is motivating them

When someone is treating me badly I point my finger at them, and sternly, authoritatively, in a normal tone of voice, say the words,” Stop It”.

I don’t care what their reasoning is, I don’t care what my history is with them, I especially don’t give a fat rat’s ass what is motivating them, or what ever psychological problem is affecting them.

Just don’t care at all.

All I know is that when I say “Stop It”, they better stop.

I don’t explain why I say it; people who are treating me badly already know why I said it in the first place.

Sometimes people sputter out some nonsense about the reason why, or that I took it wrong or it’s about some kind of deficient on my part, like there is something wrong with me.

All I know is that you better be some kind of Saint, a holy person, perfect in everyway before you start critiquing, criticizing, picking at me, or trying to take a piece of me.

As you can probably tell I had to tell someone to “Stop It” this morning.

And they stopped.

why I don’t ask for help

Sitting here doing paperwork and then some more paperwork I find I miss the physical work of my youth. When I used to get up in the dark in order to get work done before school. It was mindless, physical, grunt labor but more rewarding than what I do now.

I wasn’t paid for it, work was done for the benefit of family and that was payment enough. If you didn’t do the work someone else had to do it on top of theirs and even if I was sick as can be I would struggle to get up and do my chores. So did everyone else in the family.

You knew you were sick when no one would let you work. My family would gang up on the poor sick one and insist that they stay in bed. I know I felt abused when they ganged up on me a few times, I’d cry as I went to lie down. I know that when it happened to them they felt abused too.

I’ve tried going to a gym, exercise classes, aerobics, whatever and I never felt the sheer pleasure of the exhaustion I felt when I worked as a child. When I tried these new ways of exercising, while they worked, I felt no satisfaction from it, even felt silly because it produced not results that were for the good of anyone but me. It was not the sense of achievement I felt growing up.

Big Guy will get angry with me when I start to do physical, hard, heavy labor around the house. He looks at me with this quizzical expression on his face and asks why I don’t ask for help.

Maybe it’s because he grew up in the city, maybe it’s because his mom divided work into man’s work and woman’s work.

All I know is I can’t ask, something in me takes it as failure to ask for help. Just to do a little work, to clean out the garage, to move bookcases, and to make a cement patio?

Why should I ask? I can do that; feel that sense of accomplishment it takes to figure out how to do it myself. I figure so what if it’s heavy, use my brain, figure out how to do it all by myself.

This is a rambling post, just a bunch of thoughts thrown out to clear my head out. Almost feels like I’m trying to come to a decision about something or changing something but beats me if I know what.

That’s a good thing

I work hard to be nice; it just doesn’t come easy to me. Just not in my nature.

So I’ve learned skills that won’t shrivel a person’s self esteem when they ask me for the truth.

That’s a good thing or someone would have killed me by now.

I'll use those learned skills today.

But here, for your viewing pleasure are some little heads that I have out by my garage door.

Little different aren't they?

Poor thing still doesn't have a name

Mine isn’t a whatever either.

The poor thing still doesn't have a name but at least he's useful.

Big Guy still won’t let me hang him in the bedroom. So he’s still in the closet in charge of umbrellas. Poor thing.

And I’m still saying it

Not nice, not nice at all. I work with many foreigners. Any time any one of the foreign rat bastards would tell me what’s wrong with the good old USA I would, depending on the situation either stay pointedly silent, daggers shooting from my eyes or I would say something nasty. Something along the lines of, “We are the greatest nation on earth. Why should we listen to you?”

Or something equally obnoxious.

And I’m still saying it.

We are the greatest nation on earth. We do care for our fellow man. Show me another country that when it stumbles, fails, steps right back up to succeed beyond anything we thought possible.

It went wrong in New Orleans...at first.

Being the greatest nation on earth, we will find out who failed us and why.

We stumbled; we failed our people in a big way.

But we stepped right back up and we will succeed.

My God, look at what Houston alone is doing. I have never been more proud of my city than right now.

I’m proud of all the other cities stepping up to help.

It makes me feel so good that we are taking care of our own. I know that when I donated as much as I could I felt good. I know that everyone who can will be helping in the days ahead.

Be negative all you want, stay a few steps behind the rest of us who are stepping up to help.

People like you have been around my whole life, always criticizing, always laying blame, and never getting anything done.

Do me a favor?

Just get out of the way, the rest of us have work to do.

And you know something? It’s always been this way. Those that can, do what needs to be done. Those who can’t, or won’t, do anything constructive, sit around and criticize.

Am I bragging? Yes I am.

My children are 31 and 28 years old.

We raised them to be self-reliant, self-supporting and to take pride in that fact.

Both of them learned to wash their own clothes as soon as they could understand the washing machine and dryer instructions.

Let me tell you, after each one of them had left a crayon or pen in their pocket, botched a load of their clothes, both learned by having to wear those clothes that you need to do things right or suffer the consequences.

Rules were set for a number of reasons. They knew the reasons and since they made sense to them for the most part kept to those rules.

When some rule or curfew needed to be changed, it was discussed at the dinner table. Talk was civil and usually quite short. A case was made, a special circumstance made known to us, the parents, and we either agreed or disagreed.

Most of the time this worked quite well.

Money? Teach by example; teach about delayed gratification, saving for a rainy day.

Teaching our children to navigate through life, to be self reliant, self-supporting, and caring, respectful people makes us proud.

Big Guy and I did that together; we turned out a couple of really cool people.

Am I bragging? Yes I am.

Why? Because I can.

As long as I come back to him

Every Labor Day my sister and I celebrated together one way or another.

I thought maybe if I took off this weekend I could escape thinking about my sister. It didn’t work. Oh my God, the grief that swept over me yesterday, it was a knife slashing over and over into my heart.

Everyday I spoke to her, every single day of my life. We talked and talked about everything that went on in our lives.

When I lost her half of me went missing. I still don’t know how I’m surviving without her.

That may seem like an exaggeration but it’s not. You can’t have gone through what we went through together as sisters without bonding close together to survive.

My family is important to me, my children, my husband, my brother, Boss, and all the rest of my relatives.

But I feel like I’m drowning in a sea filled with well meaning but needy, family.

Big Guy knows me best and asked if I could just hang on until the end of the year and help him understand all the family business so he can take care of it while I’m gone.

Because I have to leave, I have to get in the car and go. Where I don’t know yet but I have to get out of here.

I think I’ve done well for my family. I’ve been there for everyone through thick and thin. I have done it all.

I am a broken person who needs to get away and thank God my Big Guy knows it.

So come January, I’ll back the car out of the driveway and go on down the road for a few months. I have a tentative plan that I haven’t fleshed out yet.

Big Guy say’s I’ve done more than anyone he’s ever met. That I should go, take my time, do what I need to do. As long as I come back to him.

I ever tell you how sappy in love I am with my Big Guy?

Sounds good to me

I'm taking a long weekend with Big Guy. We're going to see a few friends, have a few drinks, and just be sociable.

Sounds good to me.