Not that I need to explain myself, but...

Several years ago I created a Twitter account to follow along with the "behind the scenes" news on some of my favorite shows and follow some of my favorite artist.  In the past year or so as Twitter has become more popular and my friends have gotten accounts I have had more personal interactions.  Some of my friends children whom I am close to, realized it was my account and followed me and recently I have had a few more of my children's peers follow.  My account does not have my picture or my name, not because it is anonymous but just simply because I wanted to.  Twitter can be a place for very "off the cuff" remarks as opposed to Facebook, in my opinion.  And I can be a very "off the cuff" kind of girl.  Anyway, back to my point... because I am not private anyone can see it and until today it had a link to my blog. 

I created this blog several years ago at the prompting of some girlfriends.  My blog is quite simply the way we talk when we get together and the way we talk when we get together has made for some sincerely fun, honest and endearing friendships.  On the rare occasion I do blog, it is because something has triggered a thought and for those of you who have read the posts I can have some wayward thoughts.  I am an adult.  I am married.  I am over 40.  Here's a shocker for you....  I have sex.  My friends have sex.  We talk about sex... and that has made some of us very good at sex, so I hear.  I am sure some of you are like where in the heck is this coming from. Well, someone sent me a twitter post that they thought could be about me.  It said "If you're a mom and you blog about sexual activity, you might wanna reconsider all the shit talking you do about others."  It could be about me since there have been 33 new page views just today.  Now I don't know this person and she doesn't know me because if she did she would know that I don't "wanna" reconsider anything.  The assumed "shit talking" I do, I can only assume are my "off the cuff" twitter opinions. I call it as I see it.  And if you have proven yourself to be someone I don't care for by hurting someone I do, then I probably have an opinion. I don't follow people I don't like, I really don't fool with people I don't like.  Again, if you have read my entire blog, you would learn quite a bit about me and why I feel the way I do about many things.  I am who I am.  I make no apologies for that.

There are many thoughts I keep to myself (believe it or not) for the sake of a loved one.  If I had no restraints on me, I could really provide you with some interesting creeping material.  My restraints are self imposed because of the people I love that's why my stories never have any names not because I am hiding anything.  As I have said, through the years of learning about myself... "the ones I love and care about and who love and care about me get my effort.  Life is too short to waste that effort on the ones who don't." 

So, to that creeping young lady, you are still a child.  If you are lucky, you will have many years to grow up, learn about yourself and what you want out of life.  It won't happen in your teens, and probably not in your twenties, but it will happen.  Those friendships you think you have now, will be good memories but only a few, if you're lucky, will last you through marriage, becoming a parent, raising children, losing a parent and all the trials and joys that life will bring you.  If you are really lucky you will grow into a person who believes in herself and loves herself.  Maybe you will find a way to accept yourself, flaws and all. If you are wise, you will learn from your mistakes.  If not, you will always make them, you will always blame others and you will never be happy with yourself.  Either way people will always be "shit talking" because speaking from experience, it's always easier to fix others than it is yourself.  Good Luck to you! Bygones :)

Stop. Think. Breathe.

Once a week I get an email from a site that tells you how often your blog has been viewed in the past week.  I never check it.  I have so many emails, and such a long to do list, that I never get around to checking that email or much less, this blog.  For some reason I did today and I cannot believe it has been a year since my last post.  I could lie and say I have had some traumatic family crisis or a major health scare but the fact is, I've just been living life at its hurried pace and haven't taken the time to stop and write.

Stop.  Think.  Breathe. We may do this for a second when we are running late for something and suddenly can't find our keys, or cannot remember what we did with the vital information we needed.  We find it and then we are off again.  I have found a comfort in this pace of life because it doesn't give you time to realize you've gained THAT much weight, or that your children are THAT much closer to adulthood.  You don't want to slow down and realize your parents are aging and that soon you may be caring for them and taking on the parenting role for them.  When I slow down, I think.  When I think, I realize the things I need to remove from my life, but don't want to.  I wonder how I am going to pay for college for my soon to be senior, or a car for my nearly new driver.  I slow down enough to want to put the brakes on and go back in time; back to when my children's tears were because one stole the others toy or locked the other out of a room... things I could make better instantly.  Unlike the tears of a broken heart, or the fear of what the future holds, or the loss of a grandparent, which are tears only time can dry.

In a few days I will be heading to the beach with a friend, our daughters and a few of their friends.  The last time my friend and I went to the beach together we were 18 and 19 years old.  We didn't have anyone to be responsible for but ourselves and we looked damn good in bikinis.  Now we are struggling to find a "tankini" we can live with and worrying about feeding six teenage girls and keeping them safe.  Time marches on... across our faces, our bodies and our wallets.  I never stopped to think about being where I am in life and although I realize we need to stop, think and breathe, life is going to keep happening.  There will be more gray hairs, more wrinkles, more flab, more tears and fortunately, more happiness still to come, I guess the only reason to stop, think & breathe is to take in all in.  Appreciate the moments that got us here.  Look back, but smile.  All that brought us all this; it made us who we are and I don't know about you but who I am is pretty freaking fabulous.

The Fixer

A friend of mine told me once “you can’t fix everything.”  These words still ring in my ear like I am just hearing them today instead of 7 years ago.  Maybe it is just me repeating it over and over, like Rainman.  I didn’t sleep well last night thanks to the shock of how much it cost for my child to play AAU basketball.  My mind was trying to decide where the money would come from in the midst of other things that needed those funds, like our vehicles that seem to be forever running on empty thanks to the fact that gas prices are going up as quickly as the numbers on my scale.  So I found myself headed to the kitchen at 4 a.m. to work on the dishwasher that seems to be dying a slow death.  It was a desperate moment.  I needed to fix something.

I always thought being a fixer meant I just wanted to help… that I was just a good problem solver.  If I saw a problem between two people as maybe a misunderstanding or just lack of good communication, I couldn’t help but want to offer up ways to make it better.  I remember talking to a friend about his marriage one time and for every negative I would come back with “well, at least she does this or that”.  Trying to get him to look at the positive.  In retrospect, he was right, she was/is a crazy bitch.  However, I just wanted him to be happy.  There was a time I even sacrificed that friendship in the hope that would fix it… it didn’t.  I know now there was nothing I could do to fix it, because although it wasn’t my problem to fix, I was believed to be the problem, but when the problem is within a person, they are the only ones who can fix it and the only person who can help them fix it is God. 

I came across an article:  http://www.livestrong.com/article/14696-overcoming-the-need-to-fix/  and was surprised to realize how much my need to fix seemed to be a need to control.  I have always seen it as a desire for peace and happiness for others.  Not every point in the article stepped on my toes, but a few did.  Most importantly, the realizations were things that I had already come to see.  They were lessons I had been learning since the day my friend told me “you can’t fix everything.”

As I have gone full blast into my 40’s I have become proud to look back and not see the mistakes I made, but what I learned… the difference in me.  I recently lost all my photos (over 16,000) I had saved on my laptop.  When I told my husband the next morning, he could not believe that I had not had a come-apart and woke the whole house up with my distress over it.  He just stopped and looked at me like who the heck are you, when I said “There’s nothing I can do about it but try to fix it.  Getting upset isn’t going to change it.” I’m calm.  My feathers don’t ruffle quite like they use to.  I think before I act or speak… most of the time.  Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself!  I still offer advice and “fixes” to my children on their relationships and decisions.  I can’t help but give it to others too, when they ask and sometimes when they don’t.   But now I know, I can’t fix it.  All I can do is tell the lessons I learned and let it fix itself, because by now I know, in time, it always does.

True Friend?

So I am one of those moms that will accept friend request from my children’s friends and classmates because I want to know about them.  I want to know about the people who are part of my children’s lives day in and day out.  It is an eye opening way to see whom you want and don’t want your children hanging around with.  I have seen so many post these days about “true friends” and the lack thereof.  It makes me sad for them and makes me wonder what happened.

Have we risen this generation to be so competitive, self-centered or untrusting that they don’t know how friendship works?  Are their requirements so rigid that they are not accepting of others personality traits that may be dissimilar to their own? 

A “trust no one” stepfather influenced my husband during part of his youth.  You can’t trust anyone has been a resounding theme I have heard often over the years.  Truthfully, as we age, it is easy to understand why we feel that way but is it fair to put those feelings on our children?  We want to protect them and keep them from making the mistakes we did, but haven’t many of those mistakes made us who we are today?  We tell our children, a real friend wouldn’t do such and such.  But they are all kids learning how to be real friends and some of them learning from people who never learned how to be one themselves.

I love that I have been blessed with more true friends than my fair share and I hope that they would say I have been a true friend to them.  I wish there was a tried and true method for friendship, but it is a gift, not something that happens because you want it.  I want it greatly for some of the youth in my life and pray that in time it will come to them for there is nothing better than a true friend.  They are everywhere you look, looking for the same thing.  I don’t know how we as parents can help, but I hope we are indeed helping and not hurting.

Just a thought. 

“Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself - and especially to feel. Or, not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is.” – Jim Morrison

Victim Mentality

You saw the title and immediately someone came to mind. We all know someone who “suffers” from victim mentality or self victimization. Wikipedia defines self-victimization as the fabrication of victimhood for a variety of reasons such to justify the abuse of others, to manipulate others, a coping strategy, or attention seeking. Typical “victims” do not seem to look inside themselves to see if they could hold any responsibility for their problems or misfortunes in life. They are so intent on looking for someone to blame they fail to understand that everyone has problems at one time or another and at some point need to accept personal responsibility for the challenges life brings. It is a self centered nature that makes one believe they are the only one with challenges in their me, me, me world.



I have one friend I have known for many years. I dearly love this friend but I believe she often falls in the self-victimization pit. When I saw the description “a coping strategy” I began to wonder if this somehow centralized her victim mentality. She had several challenges growing up that had left deep scars from which major trust and jealously issues grew. She is loving and giving to many, but never feels anyone gives as much as she does. She seems to feel everyone has one foot out the door of her life. Although this has proven not to be the case, she holds onto some and pushes some away in this manner. Her mind runs away with her as thoughts of perceived wrongdoings converge in the form of idol gossip or simple misunderstandings. She seems to lack the communication skills to simply ask someone and ease her mind. The older I have become, I have grown less patient with nurturing what often seem to be endless needs of reassurance. I know many think I am cold when I say at some point you have to cut people off and truth be known, at the heart, I never could. Still, in the day to day busy lives we lead, who truly has time to baby and reassure adults who you have proven your love and trustworthiness to time and time again. At some point, is enough just not simply enough?


On the other hand we have someone who should walk around with a flashing neon sign above their head with a list of who wronged me today. She is fed by family members who enable her victim mentality constantly. The people who dare tell them another point of view or refuse to be sucked into their pit of drama are immediate enemies. Anyone who disagrees with her is against her is just another soldier in the war she fights against all that is ungodly. Her victim mentality goes so far as make her and her minions appear the sole true Christians standing against the evils of the world. Anyone who is friends or even associates with those she deems “evil” are ungodly and must be shunned by others. Because, as you know that is just what Jesus would do. I say that tongue in cheek because the ridiculousness of this behavior is the extreme side of self-victimization yet it is a behavior that has not ceased in the 14 or so years I have known this person. Numerous failed friendships, marriages and relationships have all been at the fault or indiscretion of the other party. How is that possible? How in nearly 40 years of life have you never been at fault? In every relationship there are two people. In every failed relationship, no matter what type of relationship, there are two people at fault: The one who hurt and the one who refused to forgive; the one who stayed and the one who left; the one who tried and the one who refused. This person in particular is truly mean spirited, however, she like my friend above will find people who are truly needy and will come up with grand gestures to help them, which at heart is a great thing, but what are they trying to prove, and to whom?


People who have been true victims of crimes and acts of nature such as our recent tornados are truly victims. When I was young, my family lost nearly everything to a house fire. We did not go to bed that night without clothes to sleep in, toothbrushes and every daily necessity. Being the victim of a true tragedy will create in you a heart of gratitude. We did not expect those things to be provided for us as we watched our home burn quickly to the ground. God just provided through his people. Many are so focused on what they don’t have or what people don’t do that they fail to see anything positive or good in people, so they have no true spirit of gratitude. Yes, they may throw out a thank you, but do they truly ever realize what has been done for them… that didn’t HAVE to be done. The apology didn’t HAVE to be given, the small niceties that did not HAVE to be offered. They are a grace given to you through him, yet they are too self centered to realize it because it wasn’t in the way they wanted. I have seen a sign that says “love yourself first and everything else falls into place”. Yes, I fully believe in loving myself as I have blogged about before. But to truly love yourself you have to realize and love the ways you are not perfect. No human person is. God created every single one of us equally. His word was written for every single one of us and it applies to every single one us. Yet those with victim mentality believe they are blameless which in turn makes it hard for anyone to reach out to them. It seems impossible to help someone of this nature because of their lack of an internal compass.


I wish I knew the cure for victim mentality. I don’t have the desire to look for it as in life I have known true victims and have little patience for those who perceive themselves to be one when in reality they are people God has blessed with children, family and friends, even though the majority of them may be on the internet and not truly know them. They are just too selfish to see it… and in the end that will cost them and leave them a victim, of their own making yet again.

A Letter A Day Project

I read a blog today (see the link below) where the writer suggested A Letter A Day Project.  You can read the details in her blog.  I thought of several people I could write to (some might not be nice letters) but have decided to try to tackle this project for my daughter.  It will be a good time as this time a year from now she will be three months into her first year of high school.  My mom kept prayer journals and I love going back and reading them now, some 10 years later and seeing how God answered her prayers.  I wish I could tell her today how some of these things turned out, but thankfully where she is today, she knows.  She probably knows better than I do.  So I ask you to consider this challenge, whether it be a child, a spouse, friend or parent.  Take a moment to let them know a year from now that they were on  your mind everyday.  Write on!
a-letter-day-project

Are you talking about me?

This is generally the busiest time of the year for me. My home is filled with basketballers and they cram a lot of games into a week. The more games I watch the worse my bleacher butt hurts. I find that I don’t have much me time this time of year, so I find myself surprised to be blogging again today. People just keep inspiring me though to write. I hope they don’t take that as a compliment though, because it is certainly not meant as one.



Have you ever known someone who thinks every cryptic Facebook post is about them? Or how about a teacher, preacher or speakers comments or lessons must be directed at them? We all do. I don’t know whether it is insecurity or a self-centered nature that makes one think that everything people do or say is about them. I do know what I think it is though, a major case of paranoia. It’s like the quote by Stephen Wright; “ I got a new dog. He's a paranoid retriever. He brings back everything because he's not sure what I threw him.”


Not too long ago, I was sent a link and at the bottom of it someone had posted what seemed to be a harmless comment. Another person sharply replied in a hateful tone words that made them look like nothing less than a complete ass. I didn’t realize it at first until it was pointed out to me that the ass obviously thought I had made the original comment. I didn’t. But their victim mentality automatically made them lash out at an innocent person. Now, I won’t say I wasn’t a bit amused by this although, I am sure her comment was meant to upset me. Honestly, sometimes paranoid and obsessed people are just downright entertaining.


It’s the “I hate drama” people of the world. Those who talk incessantly about how they hate it yet look for it in every corner of the internet, in every spoken or unspoken word. The “are you mad at me” people… those who forget that sometimes people are too busy to call, too preoccupied with the gazillion things on their mind to notice you standing near and don’t speak, so they assume you don’t like them or are mad at them over something and pout about it for months or longer. Like I said, I don’t know if it is insecurity or self-centeredness but to those people I say, get over yourself. Stop whining and feeling sorry for yourself, or pointing your victim fingers at others trying to make others agree with you or join your they did me wrong crusade. It is truly a complete waste of time to tie yourself all up in knots worrying and searching out who could possibly do you wrong next or if everything you read or hear is about is about you. It may be, it may not be. If you have to wonder if it's about you some other person with your disorder is worrying the same thing.  Does it truly make a difference in your tomorrow?  Trust me tomorrow, someone else may post something that may or may not be about you.... 

Until then keep your paranoid wheels spinning or seek some much needed help.

A Charitable Heart?

Back in the good old 80’s our youth Sunday school classes were allowed to paint and decorate our walls. I remember going through lyrics, scripture and quotes for what we wanted to paint on our walls. We came across a lyric in a song called “Pursuit of the Dream” by Michael W. Smith. I still have the quote written on heart stationary in my purple pen tucked away in my bible. It reads “It’s not just what you do; it’s what you do it for- and who.”

My parents have always had very giving spirits. I remember my dad giving his car to a homeless man once who had just found a job so that he would have a way to get there. I didn’t say he let him borrow it. He GAVE it to him! Title transferred and keys handed over. We thought he was crazy, but that is just who he is. He didn’t tell us, we just asked one day if he sold the caddie and mom said he gave it to one of the guys. He didn’t want a reward or kudos, he just did what he felt God leading him to do. That is what a giving heart does. It generally isn’t a well thought plan, it is a moment of seeing a need and responding, because that is who you are. It’s not a production, it’s a way you live your life. There are so many people who live their life in this manner, they just act in the most humble way possible because it is natural for them.


As with scripture, I think this lyric can take on a different meaning to different people. For me, I think it speaks of selflessness in our actions for those in need, but more importantly the small selfless acts we do for those closest to us. It’s those small decisions where we put others feelings first even though it may make things less comfortable for ourselves. They say charity begins at home. I don’t take this to mean giving up my lunch money for my son to buy gas to go to see his girlfriend. To me, it means going to a function knowing I will be surrounded by people who, as my son says “aren’t my people” because my husband or children want to go. It means biting my tongue, when I want to bite someone’s head off for hurting my child and letting them handle it. It means, eating chicken fingers in a Mexican restaurant because everyone else wanted to eat there but you. It means sacrificing the me, me, me wants and compromising for those you love.


How can you feel so good about your grand gestures of charity when you can’t summon up charity for those closest to you? How can you walk by family or life-long friends you are upset with and not acknowledge them on your way to pick up Christmas dinner for a needy family? How can you keep your child from a sport they love because you just don’t like the coach but yet put money in a love offering for another child to play? How can you reach out to anyone and that truly be your heart when we so selfishly hurt our own because of our own personal demons?


Christmas is considered the most wonderful time of the year because of the spirit of giving. What good is a material gift when holding the most selfless gifts hostage?

Begin With Me

Honestly, I love all genres of music. Hip-Hop, Pop, Country, Rock, Alternative, Gospel & Contemporary Christian all take up an abundance of space on my iPod. Of the Contemporary Christian genre, Point of Grace is one of my favorite groups. In May of 2001 they released a song that is still one of my favorites; "Begin with Me" is packed full of lyrics that are relevant to everyone, regardless of sex, age or social status.

As the song goes "got 20/20 vision when we're watching someone else, but it's a little blurry when we are looking at ourselves". How true is that statement? How clearly can we see the sins of others or what we perceive to be the sins of others but yet to look inside our own hearts we need bifocals. Matthew 7:1-5 (NIV) 1 “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. 3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. And yet here so many of us sit picking apart others, digging at the speck in thier eye when where we should start is ourselves. We often act as if the Lord sent us an email and said "you are responsible for making sure so and so lives up to your standards". If so and so is not your child living in your house, who are you to go digging through their failings when you haven't even read your own report card yet?

Now before you remind me that christians are to hold each other accountable, let me take you back to where the song begins. "Lord I know sometimes you look down and shake your head, when we know what we should do and do the other thing instead." That is me... sometimes. But the fact remains he loves us beyond measure, every single one of us. He doesn't pick and choose who and what he forgives, yet many think it is their lot in life to do just that. What a huge job that must be, sifting through the lives of others with such a crazed obsession; watching and waiting for them to stumble. The only problem with that is if you are so intent on watching them, you can't keep an eye on your own path. Does that mean you are depending on someone else to watch out for you? It must be somewhat like walking or driving and texting. Your attention is diverted in some other business, eventually you are bound to trip and fall or crash, and that crash could be life changing for you and those closest to you... more so than that text.

I started writing this blog post yesterday, but duty called and I had to stop. Interestingly enough, during that time I came across something a pastor had as his Facebook status. He felt it worthy to copy and repaste, as do I... "I'm so glad God sees my heart and doesn't judge me based on mistakes I've made. David committed adultery and murder, Abraham went into Egypt lacking faith and told a lie out of fear, Moses had an anger issue. Sampson was a womanizer, The Samaritan Woman, well we know about her. Oh my and look at Paul, one of the greatest preachers and writers (led by the Spirit) ever known, was a murderer of Christians and when he became a Christian he still had a problem with sin! These people made mistakes (sin) in their lives but look how God used them. They had a heart for God and was willing to be used by Him. You don't know a persons heart and they don't know yours. I'm not perfect and will make mistakes. I ask that you just pray FOR me and pray for God's will in my life. Jesus Himself said He didn't come to condemn the world. He came to show the love of God and He did it all the way to the cross being beaten and spit on by people that hated Him. So all we need to do is let Him love through us and not worry about crucifying people He's already been crucified for all of us."

Begin with me.

After The Will is Read, Who Gets the Good Stuff?

We’ve all had days where we wake up thankful for another day and then something happens, and then another something happens and your day has gone from sunshine to shit without warning. Some people crumble beneath the load, others somehow let it just pile up and yet still manage to keep their head slightly above it.

I have felt up to my neck in bs for the past two days and in times like these I wonder where the strength and perseverance come from. I know from past experience that God has carried me through many a storm and I know that he will always do that for no other reason than he truly loves me. Yet, this month not only being Breast Cancer Awareness month, but the anniversary of my mom losing the battle against cancer, I find myself thinking about how my mom is still carrying me. My mom had many amazing qualities that I see so much more clearly since I cannot see her. I began to wonder if when the ones we love leave their earthly homes for their heavenly ones where they want and need for nothing, are we somehow gifted with those qualities they possessed to help us survive without them? After the will is read, who gets the really good stuff?

My dad who had a charitable heart to begin with seems to have received my mom’s charitable qualities, as that can help explain him marrying into the family he did after my mom’s death. My brother, always full of enthusiasm and ideas must have had those traits increased after my mom’s similar traits were no longer needed. And I, no doubt, was blessed with her strength and ability to steady the course no matter how many pothole filled roads I travel. Thank you God for giving me that part of her ; and thank you Mom for having such an abundance of it. My mother fine tuned her strength well in her 60 years on this earth. Losing people so vital in your life changes you. Anyone who has been there can tell you that and the one positive in living life without my mom beside me is the changes it made in me. Since losing her, I feel as though I see people and the world around me more clearly. I am more likely to stop and think of how to handle a situation than to just attack it. Seems like I still screw that one up a good bit, but the hindsight is 20/20 now, and I can see the whole picture and not just my side of it.

Truth is my mom was a great lady, but I am not her. In fact those closest to me would tell you I have more physical likenesses with her than common personality traits. I don’t want to be my mom I want to be me. Just me, thankful for the parts of my mom in me that I recognize as pieces of her regardless of what anyone else sees. Even though she’s not physically with me, she’s still taking care of me, nurturing the parts of me that need growth and wisdom. Guess it’s true, we’ll always need our mamas.

All By Myself

The ladies in my neighborhood have taken to a regular evening walk at 7 p.m. It isn't always the same people but there is usually 5 or so. Sometimes less, sometimes more. I am often not home when these walks begin or just getting home, but truthfully that is not why I haven't joined it. And believe it or not, laziness is not the reason either. One of my favorite neightbors and I just had the following text chat:

Favorite Neighbor: You need to start walking with us. :)
Me: Nah. :) haha! I am not that sociable.
Favorite Neighbor: Whatever.
Me: Lol! Seriously. That's just too big a crowd. I walked last night at the track {in town}.
Favorite Neighbor: I like it. It keeps me motivated.
Me: It's at the end of my day when I need to wind down. I just can't do that with all those people. You know I'm 40 now... getting old and set in my ways. I do love you & {other favorite neighbor} though for asking. I just don't want to go with the whole neighborhood.
Favorite Neighbor: :) I understand. Just as long as you know you are wanted.
Me: Trust me, i don't feel left out :)

Now, I often wait for the walkers to pass before I go out of the house, because I don't want them to think a) that my feelings or hurt or that I think I wasn't invited. Like the kid that sits on the porch waiting for someone to ask him to play. Or b) I don't want to have to make up a lie that is more polite than the truth that my favorite neighbors accept, but others might see as snobbish.

A teen recently posted on Facebook how she feels so sorry for people she sees eating in restaurants by themselves and feels like she should go sit with them. I am one of those people. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I want them to leave me the hell alone with my food, my thoughts and if I am really lucky my book or magazine. Quite simply, I like me. I like my company. There are times when I want to be around others, but just as many when I don't. I treasure my time to myself. I work around people. I live with people. I usually have someone in the car with me, Heck, I even sleep with someone's heavy ass arm thrown over me. So if I get time to be with just me, I treasure it like gold!

Granted, I do need motivation to exercise and therefore, will walk with one or two people. Generally, close friends so we can have time to talk without the interruption of children or husbands. We can look like crap and talk crap without having to be "on" or polite to those who don't know us as well. I have often said, I don't want new friends. I have said it as a joke, but now that I am 40, I see truth in it. It's not that I want to be unfriendly but I want to be me. The energy to be anything else has passed. Some understand that, some don't. I've got about 40 good years left... not long enough to explain it to those who don't.

So maybe I am a bit of a snob. Maybe I am not as friendly these days, but so what.... "I'm still a Rock Star! I got my rock moves..." Sorry. I find myself bursting out with a good P!nk lyric more often these days. Which is much better than Celine Dion. "All by myself... don't wanna be all by myself". What's wrong with her? Nothing wrong with being all by yourself, if you like yourself. So go pile your booty up in a restaurant by yourself and enjoy yourself with yourself. Marilyn Monroe once said "I restore myself when I am alone." I believe that is what you have to do to be around others sometimes. Who knew a dumb blonde was so wise. But I leave you with words from the the wisest advice giver of all; "It is far better to be alone, than wish you were." -Ann Landers.

Befriending Your Elders ; )

I cannot believe I have not blogged since November! Usually someone has to say something to me to inspire me to write. Things are always said to me that inspire me in one way or another; I just haven’t wanted to write a rant lately. Yesterday though, someone did say something that made my thoughts start rolling, so here goes.

A lady was talking to me about some mutual friends we have and she said she had asked someone how we were friends because there was quite a bit of an age difference. Actually the age difference is about 17 years. I was a less than surprised to realize that this is unusual for some people, but let me assure you, true friendship does not know age. As I have learned over the years, what is shared in that friendship bridges the gap.

Some of my closest and definitely my most trusted friends are at least 7 plus, years older than me. These are the ones that have never broken my trust, always been there for me anytime, day or night and never judged me. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that these ladies love me. They have taught me how to survive motherhood, marriage, death and even the ballpark. They have physically removed me from situations that I found myself in and tried their best to keep me on the right path and never ceased to pick me up and dust me off when I took detours along that path. While I was a young married I looked at some of these women and thought they had the perfect life. But when we became friends they weren’t afraid to show me the reality of adult life. They never let me believe they were better than me or they had all the answers. They allowed me to know their struggles and because of that, I learned from their successes and their mistakes. I won’t say I didn’t make some of the same mistakes myself, but when I did they knew. Their consistency in our friendship never wavered.

One of the most important things I have learned through their friendship is how to be a friend as an adult. Some adults still revel in teen drama in their friendships. They get mad for crazy reasons, or get their feelings hurt at the drop of a hat. They either don’t know or forget what true friendship is; Knowing, trusting and believing in your friend enough to be able to not have to ask what is real. You just know! It can be forgiveness, but generally in real friendships, forgiveness is not often not necessary because you accept each other flaws and all. I have been blessed to have younger friends come into my life and desire to be the friend to them that mine have been to me. I want to always be real for them. I don’t want to present myself to them as perfect because that is false. No one is and it makes you inaccessible to some. As I have said a million times before, I believe God expects us to learn from our experiences and share them with those coming behind us.

My younger friends who have trusted in me and listened to my stories, especially my “gothic”, make that “exotic” dark haired friend are true gifts to me. What would I do with all my so called wisdom if they had not come into my lives? I don’t know that I deserve them, but I don’t think they are part of my world by accident. It’s my chance to give what was given to me and I am beyond thankful for it. Truthfully, I do think I am pretty dang wise sometimes, although I often push wisdom aside and go for fun. So thank you my wise older friends for sharing your wisdom with me. You know who you are. You know that I absolutely adore you. I cannot imagine the pile of crap my life would be without you showing me that we all trudge through crap sometimes and every now and then we might even come out with the lingering scent of it on us but there is always a friend to hold your hand, to laugh at and with you whose love is faithful.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Lately it seems I have had a bit of writer’s block. Maybe because I have been partying so much… pity partying that is. I’m growing tired of being the only guest at this party so I thought I would invite others to wallow in misery with me. I never wake up in this partying mood, but it seems as though the sun doesn’t even get to it’s brightest in the morning before someone has slapped on my pity party hat and stuck a blower, the kind that fill with spit if you aren’t careful, right between my lips and turned me from sunshine to shit.

This is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. The holidays are upon us, pretty lights, decorations and all this happy, happy, joy, joy stuff. But I’m broke. America is broke. Like Antoine Dodson “forreal” broke. I see people everyday doing all they can to keep their homes and then realizing they are fighting a losing battle and the people that should help them. Those nice, willing people that helped them get into the home of their dreams don’t even care enough to return their phone calls now. They don’t care that these people are doing everything within their power. It’s a job they leave at 5 everyday, but to those whose calls seem to just annoy them it is lost hope and devastation 24/7. And it is people just like us. It is people who have worked for years, people with college degrees and people without, but it is good people with work ethic who have been doing all they could to keep afloat in the failing economy who just cannot fight the undertow any longer.

Life was so much easier when I was oblivious to adult problems. Even when I first became an adult I was oblivious. I didn’t realize how crushing it would be when the beautiful faces of my children who use to light up when I walked in the door became people whose basic response to general conversation is that of a grunt or nod. I didn’t know that they would walk out the door one morning and come back that afternoon unrecognizable to the point you want to shake them and scream, “Give me MY kid back!” I didn’t know it would hurt so much to allow them to totally screw up because I really cannot fix everything!

And right their lies the problem. I cannot fix it. I know I can turn it over God and in his time he will take care of every bit of it. But while I sit in the “In His Time” waiting room I don’t know what to do with myself. (And for me that is never a good thing…. “idle hands” and all.) I find myself digging deeper. If I can’t fix it, then I have this crazy need to know why it is the way it is so then maybe I can understand it. Which doesn’t seem to work well for me either because then I find out more than I needed to know and still can’t fix it. Ugh! How do people put it in God’s hands and walk away with a “oh yeah” he gave me THE prescription smile?

In discussing the holidays with a friend tonight, I stated I know I needed to be better about it to make them more special for my kids. I didn’t know it before she was gone, but I know now that it was my mother who made the holidays special. I miss my own mother so much, especially during the holidays that I haven’t learned how to do that yet. The dynamics with families after the loss of the “glue” is precarious during this time of year more than any other. And then someone goes all crazy and tries to bring in some “step” crappy stiff packing tape in place of the glue. Seriously, what are we to do with that?!

So here is what I find myself doing. Sitting up after midnight blogging because I can’t sleep, and no one wants to hear my whining. But in doing so I know, I am getting it off my chest, if only for tonight so that I can sleep. I can sleep because I know I’m probably not the only girl at a pity party for one and because I know that I am not settled in at this party. I know I can leave, I know I want to leave and soon, I will. I guess we all have to have them every so often. If you want to join my party and get it off your chest, go for it! You’ll breathe a little easier and maybe even find a smile when you are done.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy! Time to look for that prescription ; )

The Bird

Ah! The bird. If I didn't like it so much myself I would be offended by it. And I guess it is a good thing I am not since I saw it twice last week, but I think that's pretty good karma considering how many times I probably gave it out. Wikipedia defines the "bird" as follows: as In Western culture, the finger (as in giving someone the finger), also known as the middle finger, the highway salute, the bird (as in flicking, flipping or flying the bird), or to flip someone off, is an obscene hand gesture, often meaning the phrase "[screw] you" or "up yours."

For me personally, I don't use it as a "highway salute", usually. Although last week, after being visually molested, I was given "the nod" by some nasty old douchebag (I was pmsing) in the parking lot of the post office. To which I am sure I gave the look. The look my daughter's male teacher told her females have that is a form of bullying. He said all girls give it, their mothers give and their grandmothers gave it before them... I laughed, because we all know that look, that death stare that sends shivers down the backs of men and makes the hair on a woman receiving the look stand up like a dog when they know "it's on!". Anyway, I ended up behind this man on the highway. Yes, the highway, the place you can go at least 40 miles an hour. Well, the highest the eye rapist could go was 4. He just sat at the light after it turned red. Not for a second, for several. So I tapped the horn a couple of times to get him going. He moved. Like a freakin' snail. Eventually, I could get over into the lane that was actually moving. Nasty eye rapist not only flings the highway salute out the window to me, he screams his definition with it... and it wasn't "up yours". Now when this story was being told to my husband, he said "and I know you handled that in the Christian way" to which I replied "Actually, I thought about what the bible says about doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. And it seemed that was what he would have others do unto him so I gave him his wish." And then I got in front of him and went 4 miles an hour. When he got in the other lane, I got in front of him in that lane at 4 miles and hour, and so on and so forth for about 4 lane changes until he realized he'd messed with the wrong person and took the first exit he could find. Sometimes the look just isn't enough for some people and your must take your bullying a step further.

Wikipedia goes on to tell us the origin of the bird, which I found interesting, because really. who thinks this stuff up?! It says: It is identified as the digitus impudicus (impudent finger) in Ancient Roman writings] and reference is made to using the finger in ancient Greek comedy to insult another person. The widespread usage of the finger in many cultures is likely due to the geographical influence of the Roman Empire and Greco-Roman civilization. Another possible origin of this gesture can be found in the first-century Mediterranean world, where extending the digitus impudicus was one of many methods used to divert the ever-present threat of the evil eye. (Seems "the look" and "the bird" have always gone hand in hand.)

Did you see the word "comedy" in there? I smile inside every time I give someone the gift of the bird. I even warn them the gift could be coming (i.e. "have you seen my new ring?"). When someone throws a little smartass comment your way, and you've got nothing... you've got the bird. Given with a smile, I think the bird can be the compliment that says "haha you got me... that time". When you've lost and you know it, throwing in the towel with an added flick of the finger just feels better than sticking out your tongue which just causes your face to crinkle then wrinkle. Plus it is always a way to show off a manicure. I guess acting like an adult in these situations and doing nothing could work too, but how boring is that!?!

Lessons from my 30's (Part 2 - Dealing With Death)

During my 30's I would like to say I learned a good bit about dealing with death. Truthfully though, I didn't learn a whole lot more than it happens and it hurts like hell when you lose someone you love. Before my 30's my only real experience with death was that of one grandparent and a few friends in my teen years. It is true that death is easier to deal with as a child as we most definitely are more resilient. In my 30's though, I lost all my remaining grandparents, a parent, two best friends and a couple of friends since childhood. The pain of losing a parent is the hardest of those, but the others, as with most all deaths leave you with a dark cloud following you that on most days you can stay a few steps ahead of, but every now and then that cloud is on top of you... and with it comes the rain.

This week, I ran into the mother of one of those childhood friends I'd lost in WalMart, of course. We stood in the front of the store and talked for what seemed like an hour and even teared up a few times. We compared our losses to that of losing a limb, specifically a leg. You learn to walk without it, but never without the effect of the loss being evident in nearly every aspect of your life. Some of those effects I believe are not necessarily bad ones. You learn not to take life for granted and more importantly not to take your loved ones for granted. You learn what you will and what you won't spend your time putting up with. You decide who deserves a little more of you and who and what you are wasting your time on. Death can leave you bitter, if you let it. But it shouldn't. The emptiness left behind can never be filled but in can be recognized in others. My only experience in the loss of immediate family is that of a grown child who has lost a parent. So many who had experienced the same loss recognized the various feelings I was dealing with reached out to me in the way that only they could. They were my anchors.

So, in retrospect, I did learn. I learned I wasn't alone, although your loss may not be of the same person, so many of the feelings were the same and eventually you do want to share them usually with someone who understands them. People who haven't faced that loss may view you as "not getting past it" and pitying you. They don't understand what to expect from you. People who have just know. Again, that is why women and in this case men too, should share with others. Your story could be what they need to hear.

One thing I will never understand though is how someone can get through it without a Christian foundation. I know when people read a lot of my posts they have to wonder about me. I know my language and actions many times do not glorify God. It is a constant struggle to combine all of me into a person that doesn't make God look down and just shake his head with a deep sigh. But I know he loves me! I know he carried me through each loss. Knowing he was the one who welcomed my loved ones with open arms to the the most beautiful place ever is what makes me smile through my tears. How can you smile through the loss if that is a picture you are unable to fathom? How can one believe after death there is nothing else? Why would God give us all this beauty and joy on earth just to be done when our mind and body is? I've seen beautiful evidence of God in his people when life begins and when life ends. His grace is my lifeline of survival. I am thankful I have never learned what life is like without it.

Bitch-Slapped!!

We have all come across people in our lives whom we’d quite honestly like to punch right in the face. If I had any doubt the people I want to pop would press charges I’d be slinging fist left and right some days. I know it’s wrong but once or twice I didn’t think about the consequences I just popped a deserving soul right in the smacker. I liked it. It felt good. Let me share…

Once upon a time there was a teenager (me) who was friends with a crazy older teenager (baby talker) who was filled with jealousy and insecurity as a result of being born to an absolutely psycho, ho-bag mother. Usually they were friends, but if younger friend did anything crazy older friend didn’t like (insert “Psycho” theme song here) drama ensued. I have always been one that will take crap from only so long before I am done. As always happens “done” came sooner than later. Fast forward to a good five or six years worth of drama (i.e. attempted boyfriend theft, badgering, that petty look what were doing and you’re not thing,) it went on and on even past one of us getting married. That would be me. It took that nutcase until past childbearing years to find someone crazy enough to marry her. Alas, he too is an odd one. Anyway, I run into her one day while dining with my hubby. I was “grown” so to speak and had enough, so the sound of her baby talking voice to my hubby was like daggers to my ears. I mimicked it. Loudly. And here she came with all her foolish confidence and got right in my face, in the middle of a busy restaurant. She made a comment and somewhere deep inside me the tolerance branch snapped and I bitch-slapped that twit right across the face. She never knew it was coming. Had the other patrons known her I am sure they would’ve given me a standing ovation, much as those in my community did when word got around. Even our preacher couldn’t help but snicker when I said “Bro. I don’t know what happened, but the devil picked my hand up and put it right across her face!” He replied, “Sweetie, I know them, it could’ve been the Lord!” Can I get an Amen?!

I’ve always been a girly-girl so I am not sure where this desire for aggressiveness is rooted, but I can’t help it. I can think of a handful of people right now that I would just love to punch right in the smacker. Note that over the years it has gone from a simple bitch-slap across the face to a full fisted knuckle punch. Pick yourself off the ground knuckle punch at that!! Line ‘em up at let ‘em have it! I have a list: 1) the sawed off little gossipy ballpark bitch. 2) The constantly complain about everything neighborhood bitch. 3) The shit-stirring, bright-eyed, fat, Ms. “Who Me?” fake innocence bitch. As well as the 4) My children are little shits, but instead of disciplining them, I will wait on yours to screw up so I can be all up in your business bitch. I could go on, but due to my fear of appearing bitter, I will stop.

I think one day when I am old, I am going to put on a ski mask and secretly go out and jump out of the dark like a member of the SWAT Team and get every last one of them, just for fun! Oh and it will be fun! Who wants to join in or at least be in charge of my bail fund?

So tell me who’s on your list of “I’d like to knock the hell out of…?”

Lessons from my 30's (Part 1 - Couple Friends)

In my neck of the woods a lot of people, especially those in their 30s it seems like to gather together to watch football, fights, play cards or what have you. In reality this is usually code for come over and lets drink a few. I have participated in this more than once and almost every time that little angel on my shoulder whispered "not the best idea", but as usual the little devil was a little louder. Now don't get me wrong, I had fun and was never ever a wallflower. And every now and then I would probably load up and go again but it's just not as much fun as it used to be.

The lesson I learned by taking part in, as well as sitting back watching and listening to stories from these gatherings (because NOTHING IS PRIVATE PEOPLE) is that too much of that kind of fun in mixed company is dangerous. It is dangerous to your relationships with your friends and your spouse. When people let their guard down, especially in the way alcohol can allow you to do, they show a side to themselves that most don't see day in and day out and to some that side is pretty dang attractive. And there the seed is planted.

Take these ingredients:

1 - Hot day at the ballpark
2 - Grandparents willing to take the kids to spend the night
3 - Cases of Beer
2 - Bottles of Jager
3 - Bottles of Wine
10/12 - 30-somethings of mixed gender and personality
4 - of those who are irritated at their spouse
1 - stereo with music to get you moving
6 - wives who want to dance
8 - husbands who don't
10 - horny husbands
8 - wives who hate it for them
0 - strangers in a bar to unite you in freak watching

Mix them all together and throw them into one couple's home. You have just made a good batch of potential trouble. The "Done" signal might not go off in the oven immediately, but the oven's on preheat somewhere.

Since I am the queen of different viewpoints, I know this is not always the case and it's obviously just an opinion I have formed over time. I have stories to back up this theory, or lesson as I have deemed it. I am sure you have them as well. But as lessons go, they are meant to teach you something. What they taught me is I that the times to participate in these were lost when I looked around and my children were older and my friends children were older and they were watching. So was everyone else. How did I feel about what they were saying they saw? Did I care what people thought? Yes! And exactly when the heck did that happen?? In my 30's! I cared because it reflected on my children. And the gossip that stems from these situations is like the Rumor Weed in the old Vegi-Tales kids movies. The weeds are just too fast and furious to control. When it comes down to it, they are just too hard to fight and totally not worth it. Life throws enough battles, why create more for ourselves?

As I have said before I am full of good advice that I don't heed. My life is full of daily battles that I hide well, to some at least. Still the desire is always there to keep someone from repeating your mistakes and the only way to do that is to share your life, flaws and all with the girlfriends you love.

30('s) Rock

Ten years ago I found my 20’s coming to an end and I freaked. I made appointments with my ophthalmologist, gynecologist, dermatologist and cosmetologist. I thought I was about to be old and life, as I knew it was coming to an end. And well, it was. I just didn’t know it was going to get even better. I can’t sum up the 30’s in one blog post so I hope you are ready to chime in and keep reading.

I can only speak for myself but my 20’s were spent trying to be the perfect little wife and mommy in my Sam & Libby flats, jumpers and big ‘ol hair bows. I was trying to be what I thought most of the women I looked up to were. I didn’t notice their struggles, their flaws and more importantly who they really were. I saw their perfectly decorated homes, their “Junior’s Mom” baseball t-shirts, their crafty little gifts for teachers and their Godly way of reaching out to the younger generations. Of course, while I was admiring them and trying to appear to have it altogether, I was hiding beer or wine coolers in the bottom of the grocery cart in case I ran into “church folk”. Of course, this is just an example of me caring more about others perceptions of me because I didn’t know just who “me” was yet.

Today I walked out of the grocery store with milk and cereal in one hand and Bud Light in the other. Today I am not ashamed that I like to have a drink or three every now and then. I know what I believe now and how it lines up with my beliefs as a Christian. I know “me”. I like “me” and have been given many opportunities in my 30’s to learn just who I am and what I think. I am still learning the best ways to express both those things, but one thing is for sure, I am not ashamed of either. That is a gift of the 30’s.

The wonderful, fabulous 30’s; when I was my skinniest and close to my fattest; when I was loved and hated by the same people so often I learned how sparingly trust should be gifted. I got tattooed, throwing up drunk and carelessly sang and danced in front of strangers. I discovered sometimes moods need meds. I watched my mother leave this life for the heavenly one she longed for. I lost two of the best friends of my life, as they died way too young, and several others from my childhood. I buried the last of my grandparents. I changed careers, communities, churches and hair colors. My babies grew from toddlers to teens and have loved me more than they’ve hated me. My marriage was a rollercoaster at times, and at others a wonderful ride on the lazy river.

I lived. I laughed. I loved. I learned.

So far in my 30’s I have had the greatest sex of my life! I have with great pleasure, told more than one bitch exactly what I thought of them. I’ve bitten my tongue when I needed to. I have faced fears. I have tried funky foods. I have danced in the rain. I have skinny-dipped. I have finally done enough damage to my skin that I got a tan! I’ve accomplished a dream and I’ve walked away from it. I’ve learned to apologize, to forgive and to walk away. I’ve learned to not even waste my time. I’ve fought. I’ve won and I’ve lost.

C.S. Lewis said “Thirty was so strange for me. I've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult.” The thirties have been strange, but strangely beautiful. No matter how many tears I have shed thus far in my 30’s the laughter; love and lessons were worth every single one of them. One of the most important lessons has been what a gift sleep is. I will embrace that gift and share more on this defining decade later. In the meantime, I would love to read your feelings on being 30 something… whether it’s in the future, past or present.

XOXO… You know you love me!
(So ready for Gossip Girl to come back on.)

Speaking of unpretty...

Have you ever gotten ready to go out and did that double take and thought "yeah, I'm cute. I look good today." You go out about your day and here comes a man (in my case, usually either old or black) flirting with you. He's no Ashton Kutcher, he's more of a Randy Quaid. And you wonder to yourself, am I not as cute as I think I am that he thinks I am in his league? You have to wonder why women have so many confidence issues and most men have no issue whatsoever. Yet, they should!


Not so long ago, I was walking out of a weight clinic thanks to my every increasing butt girth. A guy, not too old, but black, of course (they love my ghetto booty) said "girl, you know you look good." Excuse me?? "Girl, you know you look gooood". Um, moron. I'm walking out of a weight clinic with drugs in my hand. Obviously, I don't know I look gooood and being told by you hasn't helped that any. Yes, I said that. Yes, I'm a bitch. No, I didn't care. Then about a week later I begin to wonder about this guy that keeps coming back by my office, which is not one you pass by. If you come to my office, it is for a purpose. He's all chatty and friendly. He's old. His oldest kid is 6 years younger than me. He tries to impress me with a story of some expensive shoes he bought. (This is definitely a new one... and one you might think would draw me in. Buy those expensive shoes for me, then maybe. But for yourself? Ummm, no.) He tells me I am "striking". I am getting a little uncomfortable now and say thanks, but not a whole lot more. He seems to get the picture and leaves. Leaves me feeling less striking and more aged.


I guess men just think, what's it hurt to try. Why does it hurt my ego more than theirs? Ok, who am I kidding? My ego is just fine. But still it's like the tongue thing. You know the tongue thing from Thelma & Louise that causes Louise to blow perverted tongue guy's big oil rig up. I would like to know since men learned to play a woman's harmonica (oral sex, ladies)has a man with his tongue wagging out of his mouth suggesting his harmonica playing abilities ever turned a woman on. Has any woman ever said to a man "hey you lick the air so well, you wanna give me a go?" I can't imagine one ever has. It is disgusting. Or how about this one. Your kissing and making out, then they take your hand and put it on their package (covered or not). Hello dumbass! If I had wanted my hand there, I'd have put it there. Do you think it makes me more excited? Hell, I knew you were hard by the way you kissed me, give me time and I will get there, I don't need you to show me what I am in for... in some cases what you are in for is disappointment. Which leads me to "sharpie lid".


Arrogant guys are the biggest turn-off to me. I knew one that was so very full of himself and walked around like he was hung like a freakin' mule. One night at a party, where a bit of drinking commenced, he decided it was a good time to give me a hug; a really close, tight hug. And there it was a little poke at my leg. The hug was so long I had a moment to think about what that could be. There was no reason, for him to have a sharpie marker and seemingly he didn't because I felt as if I was being poked with just the lid of the sharpie. Hard enough, that it didn't move, as a sharpie lid in a pocket would. Sure enough, I came to the conclusion, and yes, told all my friends that mister I am so wonderful, did in fact have a penis the size of a sharpie cap. All that size doesn't matter and it's not the size of the ocean it's the motion... Pure bullshit. A wise man would know the way to make up for this is not to walk around like a pompous ass. It is to fine tune your harmonica skills.


So now that I have shared a couple of men are idiot stories with you, it's your turn. I know you have them...

Unpretty

As you know, I am new to this blogging thing and never wanted to start blogging until I could have a pretty one. When I post a blog on my home computer it looks good. Then I find out when others are pulling it up on different computers the words are running across the page. I have tried to fix this. When I do, the words no longer run across the page which is the purpose, I know. However, they are no longer pink and now they are in a boring, unpretty font. This I cannot figure out how to fix and it frustrates me and makes me not want to do it if it's not the way I want it. Yes, I am having a princess moment.

I am going to keep going though and keep trying to figure it out, but if anyone knows how to fix this or has any suggestions let me know! In the meantime that old TLC song about being "so damn unpretty" will be haunting me.