Monday, November 30, 2015


I am invisible.
Not by choice, but because I feel that no matter where I am, people don’t even notice me.

I take my time at home dressing, fixing my hair and applying my makeup. I want to look nice when I go out. When I am pleased with how I look, I head out into the world – optimistic about the events that might unfold.

I’m surrounded by people - and yet I feel like I’m the only person in the room. I watch life go on around me and I very much want to be a part of it but quickly become crippled by sadness because I feel like I don’t matter.

Friends and family comment on how funny and witty I am but all I see when I look in the mirror is a defeated, lonely, unlovable, pathetic person.

I want a loving partner. Someone who adores me as much as I would adore them but I’ve tried the marriage merry go round twice, and twice I was emotionally abandoned. I guess it’s not for me. Even though I want for it to be.
All of my family members have loving spouses. All. Of. Them. But not me.

I know you are supposed to love yourself before others can love you but I honestly do not think I will ever find someone to be my reflection.

Why you might ask? Because I am invisible.

Friday, August 7, 2015


I've been in an unconscious process of figuring out who I am and what I want out of life. I'm normally a pretty happy go lucky, go with the flow, easygoing kinda gal but lately I've noticed that I've started questioning everything and everyone around me. I've questioned my parenting skills, my relationship with my spouse, wondered if I'm happy with my job, thought about what friends I have...everything! And it's sort of driving me a little crazy.

Growing up, I used to be one of those kinds of people who could not stand being alone. I would date people I knew weren't right for me just so I'd have someone to be with. I'd be friends with people who weren't nice to me just so I'd have someone to be with. After being by myself for a few hours, I'd almost go into a panic. Move forward many years and I think I've figured out what caused my issues. When I was young, I lived in the country with no friends nearby. I felt very lonely the entire time I lived there. I think that's why as I got older, I was determined never to be alone again. Once I figured that out, being by myself was much easier. I still don't like to be alone for long periods of time, but I'm much better at it than I used to be.

Throw on having kids and a job and responsibilities, and alone time is beginning to sound a little better. I still don't like extended periods of being alone but a day or two is actually quite nice.

Does this mean I'm growing up?

Thursday, August 6, 2015

A Leg Up...Or Off

I've had an offbeat sense of humor my whole life and I'm dang proud of it. My sense of style and decorations are a little odd as well. I like that fact that anyone can enter my home and find a treasure trove of odd/interesting items. 

A few years back I got the idea in my head that I wanted an artificial leg. I'm not sure why - I just thought it would be funny/interesting.

A relative got wind of my crazy idea and informed me that she worked at a VA hospital, and had found a discarded leg in a storage closet. She got it for me and for a time, I had a thigh high artificial leg complete with old, saggy sock and clunky man's shoe. I kept the leg in various places around my home as a twisted, demented "decoration". 

My nephew (who is more twisted than I will ever be) spied the leg one day and asked me to borrow it. Since I wasn't actually using it, I agreed to let him take it for a while. I found out later that he would put himself in a public place, wearing the leg, and purposely "fall" and have the leg skitter across the floor. He did this prank in a Wendy's hamburger joint and at the entrance to a grocery store. He used to have the event on film but I can't seem to locate the videos any more or else I'd show you. Suffice it to say that he got lots of strange looks from people around him when he'd fall.

As it usually goes when you loan something to a young person, I never saw my leg again. An artificial leg people!!! How does something like that get misplaced????? Anyhoooooooo, once my leg was lost, I never got another one. My brother attempted to give me a leg up (get it? har de har har) by procuring a plaster mold for a future leg.

I drove the iron pipe into the ground in my garden with the plaster "thigh" up in the air but it never looked very artistic to me. It looked phallic. Like a big ol' white pecker growing up out of the ground. I kept it around for a few months but I never warmed up to it so I finally sent it to the giant plaster factory in the sky. My brother offered me another leg mold but I figured it would probably look like the one I had so I passed on the offer. I've got to give it to my bro - who on earth would think to look for leg molds for his kid sister like he did? That's what makes him so special. And wanting a leg mold OR an artificial leg makes me kind of special, too. 

The leg phase is over. Now, I prefer to place actual sized heads (practice dummies for haircuts) in various places to startle people. I even have one at work. But that's another story for another day.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

I saved (gag) a worm! (gag)

I saved a worm this morning. I think I might of injured or 1/2 killed it in my attempt to save it but at least I tried. A fairly large rain storm blew through and when I went onto the back patio to view the yard, I noticed that there was a stranded worm. It was a long way from the flowerbed and would have probably dried out before it could make it back to the dirt so I decided to "help" it.

Let me preface this by saying that worms make me vomit. Seriously, if I see a worm up close and too personal, I will instantaneously vomit. They gross me out so horribly, I can't stand to look at them much less handle one. So when I attempted to pick up the stranded worm with a putty knife so I could flick it over to the dirt, the gagging began. 

What made matters worse was that the worm was apparently an acrobatic worm. As soon as I attempted to lift it off the ground, it started wiggling and flopping and flailing all over the place! Cue gagging round # 2. 

I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what made me decide to "help" the one thing that makes me puke. I mean, I could have rescued it only to puke on it and have my stomach juices kill it instantly! I didn't but I did sort of mangle it. Repeated attempts to lift a soft, wiggly worm off of rough, pebbly concrete with a sharp object just never seems to turn out well.

That worm was slightly...segmented by the time I got finished with it. It was still wiggling when it hit the dirt so I'm hoping it's underground in my garden, aerating the soil and making my plants grow better. There might actually be TWO worms now, since I helped it replicate. That's OK, more soil turned. Right?

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Feeling Kinda Raw

I haven't written in a while because things have been tough and I don't want to be a whiner but recently something happened that made me take stock of things around me.

You see, I've been having a rough time with life in general and with Manchild. It isn't necessarily that he's done anything wrong...I just began to realize that we are inherently different people, and I'm not sure I can deal with it anymore. The life in general part is where I have to live completely by and with myself and me alone.

I've always considered myself an upbeat, optimistic, rose colored glasses kind of gal and I don't tolerate negativity very well. It's a soul sucker for me. When I encounter angry or negative people my first reaction is to try and break them out of their funk. But some people don't want to break out of it. They choose to look at life in a cynical way and keep everyone at arms length. That's's just not for me.

I've been on a really scary soul searching trip lately and for once, I am choosing to follow the path that I like and that makes me feel good. This is a real departure from the person that I've been for the past 50 odd years. And it's scary as holy hell. I feel like I'm raw on the inside and outside. I have no earthly idea what to do so I find myself taking life minute by minute. Because I can't see the end of today - I can only see this minute. Anything more is just too damn hard and scary and I'll choke to death because I can hardly breathe as it is.

Recently, I met a person who had a huge influence on me and I don't think they even know it. When I see this person, they are always upbeat and happy. They're downright silly which is right up my alley. And this person actually told me that they choose happiness. They don't want drama or downer people. They said some other things and I was amazed because I felt like my views on life were coming out of their mouth! Like, I had met my kindred spirit soul mate!

Imagine choosing to be happy, and to be comfortable and satisfied with your own view of life. Imagine following whatever yellow brick road you want to without minding what others may think of it. Imagine being your own person...not what you think others want you to be. It's almost unfathomable to me because I've always been such a people pleaser. But when I heard my friend vocalize such a wonderful view on life (in my opinion), I was thunderstruck.

While I don't know what the road ahead of me holds, I strongly feel that I need to allow myself to take it. It might hurt, it might be fantastic, it might kill me - I just really, really need to do it. Because I'll curl up and fade away if I don't. I need to live through the pain I feel now and do something to make it better. I might cry or scream but I know that I have a strong group of friends and family who care about me and who have already helped prop me up when I've fallen down. They are my safety net. Those closest to me already appreciate my views on life - I just need to be OK with letting the rest of the world know them.

Wish me luck.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

The Humongous, Intrusive, Annoying Tree Fort

During my down time I enjoy hanging out in my back yard. It's my oasis. I have a water feature, a chimenea that I use a LOT, lovely plants and my kitties hang out with me. It's a very relaxing place. Or at least it was.

My neighbor got the bright idea to build a tree house in his tree which sits right next to my fence. This means that he and his family - which include two very rambunctious and loud boys - will be able to see directly into my yard. The tree house he's building isn't small either. Once it's done he claims that it will be a little over 100 square feet. It's all I can see when I look out onto my patio. I mean this thing is going to be huge!

I was so alarmed to see it going up, I went next door and quizzed my neighbor about how big it was going to be and to find out if there was going to be a window on the side facing my yard. He assured me that there would not be a window but that there would be a "porch" surrounding it (which means that his hellions boys will be able to spy on me). In an attempt to make him rethink his plan, I stated that I was glad that there wouldn't be a window because on occasion, I liked to walk around my back yard in my skivvies and I wouldn't want to shock his kids.He gave me a look like he wasn't sure whether to believe me or not so I made sure to emphasize that walking around 1/2 dressed was something I enjoyed doing. A lot.

It's been about a month and 1/2 of constant sawing and hammering and the fort still looks like the picture above. I'm not sure what's taking so long but the amount of progress versus the amount of time spent building does not match up. And that's OK with me since I don't want the thing to go up in the first place.

Today as I was getting ready for work I noticed an intense light shining through my bedroom window. It reminded me of those huge search lights that you see car dealerships use to draw attention to their store. The thing was about a trillion candle power! Since it was still dark when I left home, I slowly drove past the construction zone and noticed that the most intense driveway spotlight I have ever seen had been installed and was shining on the tree house. Now besides having to look at it during the day, I also get to look at it at night.

Lucky, lucky me.

My family and I have been secretly plotting how to get rid of this terrible eyesore since building began. One idea was to poison the tree it's built in so it would die and fall down. Knowing my luck, it would fall onto my fence then the kids would have free reign of my yard. Plus, I don't have the heart to kill a tree.
And besides that, the neighbor would likely figure out that we did it and I'd go to jail for tree murder. Another plot was to notify the city about the lack of a building permit. But I have no way of knowing if they got a permit or not. Walking around semi-nude might alert CPS and I'd go to pervert jail. So, I don't know what to do about it other than suck it up and try to ignore it.

Over the weekend Manchild and I were discussing it and he proceeded to load the chimenea completely full of bald cypress fronds. If you don't know, the fronds will burn like crazy and smoke excessively. So picture the neighbor up in his tree house, plodding along hammering and sawing when all of a sudden everything within a 3 house radius is completely enveloped with white, pungent smoke.

Here's a little visual for ya. And I'm not exaggerating! I think the city was about to deploy the hazmat team because of the amount of smoke. You could not see or breathe for a good hour. Guess what? It did not stop the construction. Nope, the behemoth is still going up. 

The little kids are excited because I hear them every single day screaming and begging their dad to let them climb up on the deck. The other day I heard one boy ask his dad if he could get up there 17 times in a row. The dad was blissfully ignoring his son but I heard every screech...all 17 times. If it's any indication of things to come, I'm going to end up zapping one of them with a stun gun. And I imagine that someone is going to end up falling out of the tree house - preferably on their driveway and not my back yard. The kids are wild and crazy (and clumsy) and the parents are extremely fond of drinking copious amounts of wine. I know because I hear at least 3 wine bottles hit the recycle bin every morning. Clumsy hellions and drunk adults....greeeeaaaaattttttt.

This will be an ongoing story since it's not completely built yet. I'll be sure to keep you posted. Hopefully, I won't be writing from jail.