One

One.

It looks lonely standing there by itself, doesn't it?  That's how I feel sometimes.  Lonely.  I know everyone feels that way at some point in there life; I'm not special or any different than anyone else.  Here lately though, it's been worse.  After almost five years of being divorced, I am just plain lonely.

The feeling is worse around the holidays.  At Thanksgiving dinner I'm the only one who doesn't have a significant other sitting at the table beside me.  When I go Christmas shopping I'm surrounded by couples who are happily buying gifts for their children or other family members.  And then on Christmas morning I imagine all the couples out there opening gifts that their husbands, wives, girlfriends, or boyfriends bought for them.  That special gift that they know their significant other is going to cherish forever. 

Even when it's not the holidays it's rough.  I can't go anywhere without seeing couples laughing, holding hands, and whispering to each other.  I miss that.  I miss having inside jokes with someone or being able to just give someone a look and they immediately know the meaning behind it.  I miss getting a hug from someone when I really need one.  I miss having a daily conversation with someone telling them about my day and hearing about theirs.  I miss having dinner cooked for me when I come home or cooking dinner with someone.  I miss watching movies with someone and trying to figure out whodunit or laughing at the same jokes.  I miss snuggling on the coach to watch those movies.  I miss everything about being a couple.

If  I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times.  I absolutely DO NOT want to get married again.  However, that doesn't mean I don't want to have a significant other.  I just want to know that there's someone out there who thinks about me...someone who isn't my family (because if your family isn't already thinking about you, I think there are issues that need to be addressed).  I want to know that I matter to someone. 

I don't HAVE to have someone in my life.  I understand this.  I am perfectly capable of living my life alone; it's what I've been doing.  That doesn't stop me though, from WANTING to have someone in my life.  Until that happens, I'll just keep trudging along, smiling at all the happy couples I see, secretly wishing I was one of them.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Ever have one of those days when something really pisses you off?

Come on, don't lie.  I know you have.  We all get angry.

Ever have one of those days when, at the end of the day, you realize that the thing that made you angry and consumed your thoughts for most of the day was totally insignificant?

I did.  Today.  I read something online this morning that really upset me.  I could not, for the life of me, let it go.  I talked and talked and talked about it (much to the chagrin of my co-workers, I'm sure) for at least an hour.  And, once I stopped talking about it, I went back and re-read it over and over again.  Every time I did, I got angry again.  This one thing consumed my thoughts for most of the day.  It completely stressed me out.  I couldn't wait to go home so I could be upset in the privacy of my own home.

Then I scrolled through my news feed on Facebook.  What I saw almost brought me to tears as I read that someone I know is very sick and is having tests done this week.  Talk about a reality check.  That one thing that had made me so angry was nothing in comparison to what this girl is going through.  She's scared and overwhelmed.  Me?  I'm fuming over some insignificant piece of crap that, in the long run, means absolutely nothing.

What's the point of this, you ask?  Don't sweat the small stuff, folks.  Seriously.  We have this one life and we don't get another chance.  It's okay to get angry, but don't let it consume you.  Live your life to the fullest, be happy, and when those little things come along, get mad and move on...quickly!

When Worlds Collide: Close Encounters of the Facebook Kind

It was inevitable, I know.  The two worlds I had hoped would never meet finally collided...



MY EX HUSBAND AND FACEBOOK



I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  After all, just about everyone on the planet has a Facebook account.  I guess I was just hoping it would be the one place I would never see him.  And now, as all of my friends (including my sister...wait, what?) have accepted friend requests from him I have to see his face and name Every. Single. Day.  And, I don't want to.  And, no, I will not apologize for that remark.

As for my sister accepting my ex's friend request.  She texted me to tell me that he had sent it to her and then later that day texted me to ask me what she should do.  I told her she could handle it however she wanted.  My response to her was obviously a mistake.  I was under the impression that knowing everything that had happened surrounding the reasons for my divorce my sister would graciously decline the request.  Apparently, I don't know my sister very well.  She accepted it.  She couldn't stand the man when he was putting me through hell, but now she wants to be "friends" with him on Facebook?  Call me overly emotional, but it made me cry.  Where's your damn family loyalty, dear sister of mine?

As friend after friend accepts his request, I silently scream at my computer screen.  DON'T YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHAT THIS PERSON HAS DONE?  Many of them probably don't and are genuinely glad to see him on Facebook.  Some probably do and are curious to see what he's up to.  I would never actually say anything to any of them out of malice.  If anyone ever asks, I just tell them that things didn't work out.  You can always tell who already knows anyway; they give you "the look" (Of course, if you're a close personal friend I've probably told you the story so many times you want to vomit...and for that I do apologize).

My Facebook page is now on lockdown or at least as close as you can come to it with Facebook.  The ex can't see anything I don't want him to see.  And, honestly, he may not even be remotely interested.  I'm going to help it stay that way, though, and keep everything hidden. 

So, remember, although it's a big world out there your world and the world of someone you're no longer interested in being connected to may one day collide.  Don't say you weren't warned.

You ARE Pretty Enough To Find Love

You ARE Pretty Enough To Find Love | Thought Catalog

“I’m worried that I’m not pretty enough to get a guy. I’m single, and want a serious relationship, but sometimes I think I can’t find one because I’m not prettier.”

TOPSoccer of Anniston

TOPSoccer of Anniston

Raggedy Ann and Sister Love

When we were kids my sister and I had Raggedy Ann dolls.  Not just the regular size dolls, but at that time almost life size dolls.  My grandmother had had a friend of hers make them for us.  They were really nice and the lady who made them had most certainly put a lot of time, energy and love into making those dolls.  Our Raggedy Anns went with us everywhere.  And I do mean everywhere.  During that time in our lives we did a lot of travelling (and by travelling, I mean we moved every two to three years due to my dad's job). It was a crowded backseat in that little Toyota Corolla.  My sister, Raggedy Ann, me, and Raggedy Ann were all happily squished into the car.  All that squishing, however, took a toll on my Raggedy Ann.  The stuffing in her poor little neck started getting a little worn and it became hard for her to hold her up properly.  I, of course, was devastated.  How could this happen to my precious Ann?  And, why my Ann and not my sister's?  So, in a moment of weakness and extreme anger (and now I couldn't even tell you what my sister had done to make me so angry) I quietly snuck into her room and put a stranglehold on her Raggedy Ann.  But, not only did I choke the poor doll, I shook her head around until her neck was just as floppy as my Ann's neck had become.  I snuck back out of the room knowing that no one would ever be the wiser.  I was wrong.  My sister figured out that I had done something to her doll and she told my parents.  I was punished.  She gloated. 

Today we joke about the whole thing.  Always.  I even gave her a plaque with a saying about sisters that has, wait for it...two Raggedy Ann dolls on it.  I don't think there's a time that we're together that THE story isn't brought up by at least one of us.  Which brings me to the actual story...

That plaque went into a box today.  Very neatly wrapped and carefully sandwiched between some family pictures.  My sister is moving.  She's not moving far, just about an hour and half away, but still she's moving.  I won't be able to make that eight minute trip to the other side of town to visit her.  I won't be able to stop by unexpectedly.  I won't be able to go to the store with her and people watch.  It's going to be different.  There's no way around it.

You see, sister love is a beautiful and strange thing.  There's this other person who you share just about everything with as you're growing up.  There's stories about boys and girls, and hair and clothes, and movie stars, and rock bands.  There are stories about the time when you snuck a boy in the window while you're parents were asleep in the other room and getting drunk on prom night. And then, there are the fights.  The ones where you strangle your sister's doll and you pull each others hair and slap each other in the face.  And you say all those horrible things that you wish you hadn't said, but they felt so right at the time.  When you finally grow up, you're there for each other when your worlds are falling apart and you give so much advice and you watch the other still do the complete opposite.  But, you're still sisters.  Always.  No matter where you live. Until the end.

Now if only I had hid the Raggedy Ann plaque instead of letting her pack it...

Cat Tales. Not Cat Tails.

 

This is Lily.  She's my feisty, lovable, absolutely adorable bobtail. I often look at her and wonder just exactly what is going through her mind.  And then I wonder if my house is haunted because I've seen this pose on more than one occasion.  What in heaven's name does she see that I can't?  Or maybe she's having her own private worship service?  I really don't know.  I do wish I could ask her, though, because if the house is haunted, I'm moving.

 

 

Cat porn is not a real thing.  (At least, I'm hoping it's not)  But, don't tell Lily.  I think this was supposed to be an audition.

 

 

This is a much more tasteful picture.  Normally, she runs whenever she sees that I'm trying to take a picture, but this time she actually sat still for a few seconds.  And, I do mean seconds.

 

 

Mischief, I tell you.  Nothing but mischief.

 

 

She'll attack anything and I have the scratches to prove it.  By the way, those scratches are on my ankles.  She likes to hold on while I'm trying to walk.

 

 

 

And this.  This is how it looks whenever I do anything on the computer.  You would think that I never pay any attention to her.  I literally have to reach over her to type.  She refuses to move.  Period.

 

 

She sleeps.

 

 

This has been my adventure in raising a bobtail thus far.  I've had other cats in my lifetime, but as cat owners know they all have distinct personalities.  So far, Lily has been the funniest.  She does things that none of my other cats have ever done.  She is unique in her own right, as we all are.  I've enjoyed the time she's been with me and I know we'll be having more adventures in the future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And For A While...

This morning I saw the sun rise,
Shining bright before my eyes.
And for a while I watched it far,
Rising like a morning star.
Deeply it rose into the sky,
As I wondered by and by:
If the sun didn't start the day,
Would the children come out to play?

Tonight I saw the moon come out,
With thousands of stars all about.
Then I saw a falling star,
And for a while I watched it far.
Quickly it fell from the sky,
As I thought with a sigh:
If the stars didn't shine so bright,
Would the moon still come out at night?

 

Of Ghosts and Bronzed Goddesses...

I got a spray tan today.  I'll wait a couple of minutes while you laugh hysterically...

Okay.  Time's up.  This is the second one I've gotten.  I got the first one last month before I went to the beach because, seriously, who wants to go to the beach as white as the sand they'll be sitting in?  Any other time my glow in the dark skin wouldn't bother me.  I mean after spending 40 something years as pale as a ghost, who the heck cares?

This time I did it to help out a friend (not because I got so many compliments on the last one). She's going to the beach and she didn't want to be the pale person. If you have 5 or more people sign up you get $5 off.  I'm a great friend, don't you think?  I helped her save money by unashamedly standing in front of a complete stranger in nothing but my undergarments.  I think I deserve some kind of reward for my sacrifice.  Plus, if you had seen the girl who does the tans, you would understand why I deserve a reward.  She's gorgeous.

So, for the next few weeks I will live as a bronzed goddess...okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration...but I will have a nice glow to my skin, and not the ghostly kind.



*If you see me and don't recognize me, I'll completely understand. :)

How to Get Out

I didn't write the post below and not everything in the post happened to me, however the majority of what you'll read was my life for about two years.  I strongly urge anyone who is in an abusive relationship, whether it's due to drugs, mental illness or just plain cruelty to GET OUT.  No one deserves to live this way.  Period.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/how-to-get-out/

Self Image

Being a woman (actually, just being human), self image is something I struggle with on a daily basis.  There is so much pressure from TV, social media, and even our own friends and family, to have the perfect body.  If your hair isn't the right color, or your thighs are too big, or your or you have too many freckles, or your skin is too pale (honestly, I could go on forever) someone is going to let you know.  Whether they do it politely or not, that's another story.

I read this post the other day (Thought Catalog) and it really struck a chord.  It really is hard to love ourselves when the world is constantly telling us that we're not good enough.  And the irony is, the world tells us to be ourselves.  But, wait...don't REALLY be yourself...be what you're expected to be.  Whoever decided what the ideal is?  I'd love to meet that person.

So, what is the real idea of beauty?  I still like to subscribe to the idea that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  If you look in the mirror and like what you see, then screw the world.  Screw the last person who told you that you needed to smile more or you shouldn't wear those clothes because they made you look fat.  We honestly need to learn to be comfortable in our own skin.  There is no perfect person, we can only try to be perfectly content with who we are.

There Is Love - Fort Atlantic

Heard this song for the first time today.  Admittedly, the music is pretty slow, but the lyrics are what really got me.  Just. Listen.

http://youtu.be/qJ4npeqZ3C8