The Definition of Confusion

When my children were still in school, they used to visit their grandparents on school holidays. I would drive halfway to Pensacola to meet my mother and place my children in her care. The first few days always seemed like bliss and then the house gradually seemed way too quiet. By the time I would pick up my children, I was more than ready to have them come home again. I welcomed that deafening chaos.

My mother was always rather rigid while I was growing up and had a very diplomatic way of handling punishment. If the guilty party didn't confess the first time when we were asked who did it, we all suffered the consequences. As I grew older and eventually became a parent myself, the woman who raised me seemed to change. She got soft in her old age! Had I broken her spirit? Possibly! But each time my children would rave on about the fun-loving person who they perceived their grandmother to be, I knew it wasn't the same person who raised me. My mother was proof that aliens do exist! Ask anyone from my old neighborhood! They knew my mother was a force to be reckoned with. Her voice alone could raise the dead.

Each time my children would go for a visit, it took weeks before I could straighten them out. My mother waited on them hand and foot and made them do nothing but fun things while they visited her. When they came home sassy and quite lazy, I would want to pull my hair out. One time while driving home, my children seemed quite mesmerized by a joke book one of them had gotten while in Pensacola. One of the visiting rituals was to take my three children (her angelic grandchildren) to Hawsey's, a used bookstore and let them each purchase a large paper bag full of books to read.

Since they were quiet on our trip home and this was an oddity, I tried to engage them in conversation only to be told they were reading jokes. That explained the occasional chuckle I heard from the backseat. I asked them to read aloud some of the jokes. My youngest child, Matthew spoke up and said he would read one. Although he was only 7 at the time, his reading skills were quite advanced for someone his age. As Matthew read, I almost drove off the road.

Whats' the definition of "confusion"?
Twenty blind lesbians in a fish market!

What? Now, with glee they started reading more jokes from the book until I asked them where they got the book. In unison...HAWSEY'S! And your grandmother let you buy that? Well, she never screened the books that were bought, so the book titled Truly Tasteless Jokes was easily purchased by my son, Daniel (age 9). When they all went on to recite the dirty little ditties my mother had taught them I knew she had lost her mind or maybe the rules that apply to being a parent were different from those being a grandparent. It definitely was a gotcha moment lovingly given to me by my mother. To this day, my mother just smiles innocently when this story is told.

An example of one of the my mother's ditties:

A flock of birds
Chocked full of tirds
Flew over my father's castle
They stretched their necks
And shit a peck
Then closed up their assholes.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful I don't live in a castle near a fish market.

FEATURED YOYO

Daniel Fogelberg
August 13, 1951 – December 16, 2007
Written by an anonymous fan: "Dan, I finally hugged my father before he left; I finally found peace after lost love; I finally claimed a purple mountain for my soul -- all this because of your musical journey, always more than lyrics and melodies. I finally discovered gratitude and grace. Your music is timeless; your heart, boundless."

Gratitude statement: Sometimes lasting memories are formed under the strangest of circumstances and sometimes people only need to briefly touch your life in order to have a lasting effect on it.

I GAVE BIRTH TO A PRINCESS

This is my beautiful daughter, Princess Christina. She would like to have people believe I hung a porkchop around her neck as a child so at least the dogs would play with her. What a sassy little vixen she is and also she's bursting at the seams from being full of crap! She's talented in so many ways and I truly wish she would see her full potential instead of spinning her wheels like yours truly (I guess this comes from being raised by a mother who had potential, but did everything she could to destroy it).

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for rubber porkchops because they are reusable!

SEX AND THE KITTY

The past week has been hard for me. The lightbulb has gone off several times and I've found myself saying, "WOW! an epiphany!".
What's strange about these lightbulb moments are that they have come at odd times when I wasn't really engaged in deep thought. It's almost as though some stuff I've kept stuffed down for so long is surfacing because it has no place else to go, but up. These moments are allowing me to see me in a different light.

I think the strangest of the epiphanies is the one concerning sex. Since a very young age I've looked at sex through hedonistic eyes. At times, I've been very promiscuous, but I've never felt bad about being sexually uninhibited. For the last 5 years I've been in self-imposed "time-out." Okay, that time-out came as a result of a broken heart, but nonetheless it has given me time to distance myself from something I always felt clouded my judgment. In my case, sex makes me brain dead. The more I have, the more comfortably numb I become. Sex has completely destroyed my judgment skills and has left me morally bankrupt. Now throw drugs into that mix and yourself have free-spirited, pleasure-seeking junkie!

Can I link my bad behavior to any particular cause? You betcha! But instead of feeling angry, I feel sadness. I feel sadness for all the time I truly wasted on cheap, sleazy sex and thrill-seeking scumbags. I feel regret for all the "nice" men I've known and have never given a chance because they weren't Billy Badass. I always believed nice=boring and for me nice just didn't get it done. Masturbation was more stimulating than sex with a nice man. I can't tell you how many first dinner dates I sat engrossed in pleasant conversation with a perfectly nice man while my head is screaming, "NOT IN THIS FUCKING LIFETIME" as I tried imagining my long legs wrapped around my dinner date doing unmentionable things with them.

What disheartens me the most is realizing that my most memorable personal accomplishment is having a lifetime filled with being self-destructive. Oh, but instead of getting the job done all at once, I felt I deserved a lifetime of being dragged slowly over the coals to kill myself a little at a time. Now, I'm trying hard to find ways to break that cycle. For someone who has always acted on impulse, it's difficult to leap cautiously back into life and then stop myself to ask questions first before I do anything.

Do I really want to do this? Is this the right thing to do? How will it effect me? Those are basic questions that most people have been asking themselves all their life, but those questions are a major thing for me! Being "normal" is overwhelming to say the least! I really didn't realize how far down into the pit I've fallen until I started trying to climb out. Hopefully, what hasn't killed me will only make me stronger. Hopefully, as I peel away the layers of semen-laced crud, I'll see the person others see. And hopefully, as I climb my way out into daylight, I'll be able to forgive myself as easily as I have forgiven others who have caused me pain.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for having 20/20 hindsight.

BITCHFEST - PART IV

It's no secret that I consider war immoral. You see, I think slaughtering others is a completely avoidable act and that peace can be accomplished through peaceful means. (Please don't jump in here and give me a rash of shit about what if someone attacks you. Self-defense is an entirely different story. We all have survival instincts and should use them when and if needed!) Wars should be as a last resort and then I'm still not comfortable with the mass annihilation that takes place. I know my beliefs are idealistic, but it's my right to feel anyway I want to feel and believe in whatever I want! If you read the post before this one you can pretty much see where my religious leanings are...I'm all for brotherly love and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you and yes, the Ten Commandments are cool, but that's where it ends for me. I'm sorry, but I'm a "show me" type of person and God has never shown me that he or she really exists. I have a zero in the faith department when it comes to worshipping a deity or deities.

I tend more to go along with Karl Marx and believe religion is the opiate of the masses that gives the down-trodden something to look forward to....death and the here after! Come on! What a crock of shit...it's like the gold stars you give a little kid to bribe them into being good. Okay people, here's your treat....you get to sit in heaven and play harps and sing songs for eternity. I'm sorry if the thought of that being my reward for being good doesn't exactly win me over. Nope, I'm not a puppy in search of yummies and if I do get a yummy I want it NOW. Oh no, I hear praying going on and those prayers are for me. Okay, so if you must pray for me, pray I get a new spine and a BMW. Oh hell, at this point I'll settle for a BMW and a handful of Percocets. Then I can cruise on the highway of life going 120mph and feel on top of the world.

Gratitude statement: I am thankful your God loves me just the way I am.

BITCHFEST - PART III

I posted the anonymous quote found below to my Facebook page and before I go any further let me explain why so many people are on Facebook...mindless banter. That's it! It's a site to "hang-out" and vegetate and to reconnect with old friends. So anyway, I posted this quote about religion knowing that it would stir the pot...and it did! Amazingly enough, most people really missed the whole "if you're gonna talk the talk, then walk the walk" point of the quote. It never ceases to amaze me how defensive people can get over nothing.

I guess those who squeal the loudest must be the most guilty. That whole "I'm in church on Sunday, so I can do WTF I feel like doing the rest of the week and God will forgive me because I'm imperfect and a sinner so I'm supposed to sin" mentality makes me want to vomit. If you're a Christian stop back biting! Stop gossiping! Stop walking past people in need! Stop judging everyone except yourself! Act more Christ-like! And stop sending me fucking religious stuff! If I want to be a hedonist that's just what I'll be because I like pleasure. If I claim to be a heathen, then just go about your merry Bible-thumping way. You can pray for my eternally damned soul, but stop trying to cram Jesus down my throat. By the way, shouldn't a person lead by example and not by "do as I say and not as I do"? If you really want me to see the light, you need to stop giving Christianity such a bad name!

"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going to a garage makes you a mechanic."

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that when I do something from the heart, it's from the heart and not motivated by some fear mongering dogma.