Archive for March, 2011

“Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.”  ~Maya Angelou

I have written before about how I think Maya Angelou is one very wise woman. And this quote perfectly describes the state of being I am trying, at this point in my life, to avoid. Hope for a better life is the only life raft to which I cling, praying for emotional release, peace of mind, and the will to go forward. I’m tired of being angry and bitter. I’m tired of being embroiled in all of this drama. I’m tired of being the subject of endless gossip. I’m tired of hearing about every movement that my ex makes – I don’t care and it only hurts me more. I’m tired of living in the same community with people who don’t care about me or only want to hurt me – I don’t want to feel the pain of rejection and betrayal anymore. I’m tired of being afraid of what the future brings and of growing old alone. I’m tired of hearing myself whine over the bad hand I’ve been dealt.

I know how unhealthy my current living situation is. I’m not an idiot and I’m not so emotionally distant as to not realize that. I share a house with my soon-to-be-exhusband. He told me the other day that it is uncomfortable FOR HIM. Oh yeah, Sherlock, do you think *I’M* farting rainbows over here? I reminded him (oh so sweetly, of course) that this situation was of HIS choosing, not mine. And that our current residential status is owed only to a rough real estate market. To which he then accused me again of sabotaging our efforts to sell the house in order to try to keep him married to me. I had to actually laugh out loud at that one – hope it didn’t hurt his feelings. Uhhhhh, noooooo, wrong again Sherlock. I think I’d rather “keep” a deadly virus or a debilitating disease – they actually are preferable to the no-good, lying, cheating bastard my husband has become.

So I have to stop being bitter about this – I have to learn to look at the humor in this whole farce. I just have to keep reminding myself that this too shall pass and someday I might want to take my story to Jerry Springer. I refuse to let the bitterness win – I’m going to learn to laugh and move on instead.


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If you have ever been at the end of a bad relationship and wanted to kick your ex in the teeth, this song is for you. If you’ve ever been cheated on, this song is for you. If you’ve ever wondered how you let an immature, deceitful man (or woman) make you feel bad about yourself, this song is for you.  If you’ve ever wanted to go back to that lying, cheating bastard (or bitch) because you love them, then this song is for you. If you have ever beaten yourself up over a stupid choice you’ve made in a mate, this song is for you.
The word is faithful, look it up
It don’t mean sneakin’ around
Behind my back like you ain’t gettin’ enough
How bout forever, just look it up
It means through thick and thin and
Pitchin’ in even when the times get tough

The word is easy, look it up
And you’ll see a picture of that piece of trash
Ridin’ ’round in your pickup truck

Let’s try liar, just look it up
But you’ll need boots to wade through all the bull
You tell me when you come home drunk
It’s just like you to be so clueless
Cause you never thought I’d do this
You said you’re sober, look it up
It’s right next to hell is freezin’ over, flyin’ pigs,
And all that stuff
I said go, goodbye, get lost, get out, get gone
The word is over – look it up!
So for all of you out there who, like me, are recovering from a bad relationship, just remember – the word is OVER! Kick them out of your minds, mentally tell them to kiss off, and move on.  YOU DESERVE BETTER! I know, it’s very hard and often painful to walk away forever – especially when you truly loved that person – but we can’t unring the bell. We know too much and we are too smart to go back to them! So say “goodbye, get lost, get gone – the word is OVER!”.

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When you are a fat girl, you spend a lot of time thinking about food. Either you’re planning your next meal or you’re feeling guilty because of something you just ate. You enjoy a great meal – and then you hate yourself for eating it.

I can’t even go to the grocery store without feeling self-conscious. I constantly am worried that people are looking in my cart and judging the nutritional value of its contents. Yes, I do realize how self-centered that is – most people are busy in their own lives and own concerns. Yes, I do realize that the world does not revolve around ME. But it doesn’t stop the fear that people are judging you for that carton of ice cream or bag of chips.

Why do we overeat? What is it that compels us to eat those foods we know we shouldn’t? I am calling it the M&M Dilemma. Those damn little pieces of chocolatey goodness beckon us and, once we dip into the bowl once, we go back again and again. I guess it’s the same as the male relationships in my life – I know they’re bad for me but I can’t help but want more. Ha, maybe it’s just a character flaw in ME – but I expect not. I suspect that many women out there will understand what I am saying with this.

The M&M Dilemma effects people of all sizes – fat, thin, skinny, chunky, plump, stick-like. We are all effected by the lure of yummy, fattening foods. We just can’t help eating those foods we know we shouldn’t – and then beat ourselves up for having caved. It’s definitely a vicious cycle. And it’s even worse when you are struggling with a weight problem. You go on a cycle of diets and binges, sneaking food and then feeling awful about it. You just can’t seem to stay away from the things you know you should.

And I don’t think the M&M Dilemma is limited to just food, either. Some of us struggle with alcohol problems or toxic relationships or gambling addictions. We keep going back to things or people that we KNOW we should just avoid.

So, am I alone in suffering from the M&M Dilemma? Am I the only one who is struggling with my weight, my eating, my self-image? Am I the only one who just can’t walk away? I hope not, as awfully mean as that sounds. It’s not that I want other people to be unhappy – I just don’t want to be alone in the struggle….

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The Stupid Crown

I admit that I have done some pretty boneheaded things in my life. I would say that trying to urinate on a campfire “just like the guys can” was near the top of the list – I burned my ass so bad I couldn’t sit down for 3 days. And I would have to say moving 500 miles away from my family just to prove I was a big girl was pretty dumb too. And not realizing that my husband was cheating on me for over 3 years – yeah, that was pretty stupid. But, I am sorry to report, I have been wearing a bejeweled Stupid Crown pretty steadily for the last 8 months. I am the Queen of Stupid, the Princess of Patsies, the Dutchess of Dumb.

If it hasn’t been one dumb thing after another. I spent almost 9 months trying to “fix” my marriage – *I* went to counseling, *I* set up romantic dinners, *I* tried to open the lines of communication. Meanwhile, he was intensifying his relationship with his mistress. So glad I wasted all that emotional effort and energy.

Ok, then, when he finally comes home and tells me that he no longer wants to be married (conveniently on the same day that HER husband kicks her out), she decides to start sending me nasty emails and text messages – and I stupidly accepted them! I allowed her to kick me while I was down, to gloat and to brag, to make me feel like I was worthless and useless. Pretty dumb, huh?

And then, for one of my final acts of STUPID, I decided to jump right into another relationship. Rather than standing on my own two feet and rediscovering myown identity and equilibrium, I decide to lean (all too heavily, I’m sure) on another man – and trusted that he would be there. Uh, duh, dumbass – no man is ever going to be there for you!

So, yes, I am officially claiming my Stupid Crown now! No one that I know can possibly make the monumental dumb moves that I seem to be so proficient in! Sorry, everyone, the title belongs to me – and at least let me have the bling to prove it!

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…is an official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200 shot range model air rifle. No, just kidding – but it is a great movie! (and, for those of you who are wondering if I’m off my nut and don’t know this is from the greatest Christmas movie ever then a) shame on you and b) check this out and educate yourselves).

Anyway, I do know that Christmas is still 10 months away. But, since people say I don’t ever tell them what I want for presents (birthday or Christmas), I thought I’d make their lives easier this time. I want a kilt set. The whole shebang with the Prince Charlie jacket or the ghillie shirt, the hose, the sporran, everything. And a set of bagpipes to go with the outfit, too, while we’re at it. Oh, and some lessons in Scottish Gaelic! 

That’s right, I want to get in touch with my Scottish roots. Yes, I do realize that listening to someone learning to play the bagpipes is like listening to someone swing cats around in a bag. And yes, I also realize that fat girls probably shouldn’t wear kilts and show off their legs. AND that finding a Scots Gaelic tutor on the Eastern Shore of Maryland is about as likely as finding a man who likes to shop. But, darn it, I think a kilt is a small thing to ask!

For those of you who haven’t studied Scottish history, in the aftermath of the 1745 rebellion, in which Scotland tried to restore the Bonnie Prince Tcharlach (Charlie) to his rightful throne, the English banned the wearing of the clan plaids. The tartans were considered part of each clan’s identity and, as the British saw it, if they could get rid of the clan tartans, they could get rid of the clans. The wearing of or even possession of the wool plaids was outlawed and yet somehow they survived – as did the clans! Those must be strong binds of cloth to have held together those family groups for all these years and across multiple continents!

Now the wearing of the plaid, especially in America, is a symbol of pride in the heritage and bloodlines of Scotland. Not just Highland descendants are wearing them, either – if you have Scots in your background, you wear the plaid. You go to the Gatherings and you embrace that part of your past. It’s amazing, really, that the Scottish identity and pride are so strong – considering the melting pot that is America.

I don’t have a lot of information about the details of my Scottish ancestry. My paternal great-great-grandfather sailed out of the Port of Edinburgh, that’s about all I know – no clan affiliation or history. And, with a non-Scots name like I have, I don’t have the faintest idea where to even start the research. I wish I had the money to hire a genealogy company to find out where I come from or the funds to take a 6-month vacation and do the research myself.

I am saving up for a trip to Scotland, though. Don’t you worry about that! I will get there someday and stand on the moor at Culloden and weep for the losses. I will travel the Royal Mile of Edinburgh. I will boat across the Loch Ness and wait for the creature. I will try a Dundee Cake and a haggis and REAL shortbread. I will visit the ancestral home of Clan Graham (don’t ask) and I will spend the whole vacation humming “Loch Lomond.”

I had hoped that someday I would have a Scots husband to accompany me on this journey (or at least a non-Scot willing to travel and tolerant of my history-mania) but maybe I will have to do just do it myself. Gu math thèid leat a Beathag! (hey, Mark Wilson, did I type that right? :))

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I admit that I have a lot of musicians that I turn to when I need support. Ani Difranco gives me a voice when I am angry, Miranda Lambert comes up when I’m bitter, Jewel is great for those mellow moods, and Reba is for when I’ve got my cowgirl on. But P!nk is what I put on when I’m thoughtful and/or pensive. She has an amazing talent for using lyrics to connect to the human experience – and often the words are put together in unusual and creative ways to form a very unique art form. I wish I had that kind of creativity but, since I do not, I instead pay homage to hers:

From “Waiting for Love”

She looks to the sun
Help her to carry on
Breaking down all the years
Wondering how she got here
She drifts through the sky
Counting the reasons why
How my life turned so fast
Remembering all of the past

From “Hell Wit Ya”

Oh I’ve tried
To act like I don’t care
But it doesn’t seem fair
You’re so good to her
And I’ve tried
To pretend I don’t see
All those things that you do
You couldn’t do for me 

I was in love wit ya
But the hell wit ya
Cause you didn’t wanna treat me right

From “F**cking Perfect”

Done looking for the critics, cause they’re everywhere
They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that, why do I do that (why do I do that)?

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing than you’re fucking perfect to me

From “Funhouse”

I dance around this empty house
Tear us down
Throw you out
Screaming down the halls
Spinning all around and now we fall

Pictures framing up the past
Your taunting smirk behind the glass
This museum full of ash
Once a tickle
Now a rash

From “Could’ve Had Everything”

I thought I did my best
It was nearly good enough
But all that effort I guess
It didn’t add up to very much

From “So What”

You weren’t there,
You never were,
You want it all,
But that’s not fair,
I gave you life,
I gave my all,
You weren’t there,
You let me fall.

From “Who Knew”

You took my hand
You showed me how
You promised me you’d be around
Uh huh
That’s right
I took your words
And I believed
In everything
You said to me
Yeah huh
That’s right

If someone said three years from now
You’d be long gone
I’d stand up and punch them out
Cause they’re all wrong
I know better
Cause you said forever
And ever
Who knew

From “It’s All Your Fault”

It’s all your fault
You called me beautiful
You turned me out
And now I can’t turn back
I hold my breath
Because you were perfect
But I’m running out of air
And it’s not fair

From “Long Way To Happy”

It’s gonna take a long time to love
It’s gonna take a lot to hold on
It’s gonna be a long way to happy, yeah
Left in the pieces that you broke me into
Torn apart but now I’ve got to
Keep on rolling like a stone
Cause it’s gonna be a long long way to happy

I just want to thank you
Thank you
From the bottom of my heart
For all the sleepless nights
And for tearing me apart yeah yeah

From “Respect”

Mirror on the wall, damn I sure look fine
I can’t blame those horny boys, I would make memine
When I pass you in a club, “Ooh, lala!” you gasp
Back up boy, I ain’t your toy, or your piece of ass

From “Don’t Let Me Get Me”

Don’t let me get me
I’m my own worst enemy
Its bad when you annoy yourself
So irritating
Don’t wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

From “Stupid Girls”

What happened to the dreams of a girl president
She’s dancing in the video next to 50 Cent
They travel in packs of two or three
With their itsy bitsy doggies and their teeny-weeny tees
Where, oh where, have the smart people gone?
Oh where, oh where could they be?

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl

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There is nothing, nothing I say, as wonderful as crawling into a bed with nice clean linens. The smell of dryer sheets, the cool sensation on the pillow, the general cozy feeling – if I go to heaven, I anticipate that it will be like my bed on laundry day.

I am also a big fan of sleep. Whether that is the chronic depression talking or just a simple appreciation for naps, I thoroughly enjoy sleeping. My big treat to myself on my days off from work is to take a nap. I adore naps – curling up with a good book or movie, a blanket, and one of my cats on my lap. My absolute favorite time of day is that moment when you climb into bed, stretch out, and completely relax. Often, that is the first time all day that I’ve gotten to just relax my muscles and my mind. And I will just lay there and listen to the thunder and rain (if not natural, then from the CD I bought – best $5 I ever spent!) and enjoy the peace. I am never more at peace than when I can set aside reality and enter Dreamland.

I can go anywhere or be anything in my Dreamland. I can travel to exotic locales or visit my family back home, I can revisit happy moments from my past or see old friends once more, I can experience wild and exciting times that I will never have otherwise. Dreamland is a wonderful place – I can be and do anything – no costs, no consequences, no regrets. Don’t believe me? Then I invite you to visit me in Dreamland…

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