3 more words
A lie is a horrible thing, but a lie with wings is even worse. It flies as far and high as possible, wreaking havoc and destroying lives, or at least….trying to. These pretty little birds of flight are known as RUMORS.
No one has successfully avoided the rumor mill. You either created a rumor, helped spread one, or were on the receiving end. BUT….Make no mistake, you’ve been tainted.
Here are a few created and spread about me. Some caught flight for bit and some experienced a horrible death after I clipped their wings.
Rumors are mostly a projection of the individual who started them. (ROYA R. RAD, Therapy Dialogue)
Those who feed on rumors are small, suspicious souls. (CHARLES R. SWINDOLL, Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life)
You know what rumors are like–like a jar full of moths. Once they escape, they’re all over the place. (RHYS BOWEN, Oh Danny Boy)
People who spread rumors are like walking infections. The lying words from their mouths spread like disease from person to person. The only way to stop the disease is to keep your mouth shut. (JOYCE HANSEN, One True Friend)
Rumors are created by the jealous and spread by the ignorant. Fortunately, the truth usually wins our!
Without further ado, here is the apology letter I submitted.
(RED: Thanks for reading this first and reassuring me that I’m not quite the piece of shit I thought I might be. Well…..not in this instance anyway.)
Although these words will never meet your ears, I’m apologizing anyway. You are and will always be protected by what I felt that day, in that moment. After all, I’m a mother. I’m your mother. It’s my job to protect you.
Admitting something I’m deeply ashamed of isn’t easy. Even your father doesn’t know this. How could I tell him? He didn’t share my feeling. He didn’t share my fear. I didn’t want to look less in his eyes or risk losing a piece of his heart. But, this isn’t about him. It’s about you and me.
TO READ THE REST, GO TO: Mom Apologizes to Son with Down’s Syndrome
Need some motivation to get your pitiful, sorry, “I should be dead for what I did to you”, thoughts out?
Now go apologize at An Open Apology. You know you fucked up! Go make it right.
Apparently, Twindaddy isn’t doing such a hot job of hiding his crack addiction. How do I know? Well……He gave me the ABC Award. That’s how. Awesome Blog Content! Seriously?
Clearly, only a crack addict would think such nonsense. But hey……..You gotta be loved by somebody, right??!!??
Per this award, one has to list (by alphabet) things that are relevant to them. I’m sure I’m supposed to pass this on to others, but I suck at getting awards now.
In the beginning of blogging, I was all like: “OMG! How do I get one of those awards?” and then it was like “OMG! Someone gave me an award. I’m going to put out a rocking post to thank them and pay it forward.” and then it became “OMFG!!! I can’t keep up with this shit. I can barely get my brain to put out a semi-shitless post, let alone another acceptance piece.” and now it’s like “Thank the fucking lord everyone knows I’m a slackass and they barely bother to read my stuff, let alone praise me for it.”
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but I’m a slacker with reciprocating. Kind of like some people with oral sex!
Please go to STUPHBLOG and read 26 Things to see who else his cracked-out self passed the award to.
So…..Before the intervention takes place, he gets cleans and takes this away from me, I better get on with the getting on. Here are the 26 things relevant to my life currently.
A: Avocados (Great!)
B: Bacon (I wish I could eat it 24/7.)
C: Cute One (He rocks!)
D: Divorce (1. Great babysitter. 2. Great therapy. 3. Great weight loss plan.)
E: Evenings (Things finally settle down and I can relax.)
F: Friends (Enough said!)
G: God (Shocking, but true!)
H: Hubby (We’re forever, like herpes.)
I: Intercourse (…with hubby)
J: Java (IV please!)
K: Karma (It’s a bitch! I watch it in others like a train wreck.)
L: Laughter (It’s like breathing.)
M: Mysteries (books, shows or movies.)
N: Narcissists (Entertaining poison we can’t eradicate, yet.)
O: Orgasms (Note the “s” at the end. I love my husband.)
P: Poetry (Word Therapy)
Q: Quality (My absolute favorite word….meaning and sound.)
R: Randomness (The kids keep me guessing and on my toes.)
S: Strength Training (My weekly routine I can’t do without.)
T: Things 1, 2 and 3 (Tax deductions!)
U: United States (Well….I live in it and it’s pretty cool mostly.)
V: Vacation (Two days from now, I’ll be cruising.)
W: Writing (Love, love, love it, even if I don’t always do it.)
X: XM Radio (My music. My way.)
Y: You (Yeah you. Thanks for reading this.)
Z: Zoo…..I live in one.
So…..Those are my relevant things. I don’t know if I shocked or amazed you, but I did hold you hostage for a bit, and that’s pretty cool.
Sorry about not passing this on, but I’ve never been good at sharing the bottle. Please give this award to yourself! We can change the meaning to Absolute Blog Crazy if you like mine. Guilty pleasure or your version of a train wreck? I don’t care, as long as you’re here.
And……Sorry for being a selfish blog lover. I promise to reciprocate. I just want to make sure I’m able to properly swallow all of the words first. It would be humiliating to choke on them.
43 IS AWESOME:
I’m stronger than ever.
My face is holding up (Just don’t look at my hands).
My body isn’t due for an overhaul yet.
I’m fairly certain my mind is in tact.
My words are just as devastating and magical, if not more.
My four kids like me without resorting to bribes….yet.
My husband hasn’t had the itch to bump private parts with anyone else.
I don’t wear mom jeans.
My ass isn’t fat, flat or in need of stick removal.
My breasts still stay up on their own. AND……yes, they’re mine. I have the receipt to prove it.
I have hot flashes, but only in the bedroom.
My friends are the most incredible, genuine, nontoxic bitches around.
My blog buddies still love me, even though I have abandoned them recently. (I left breadcrumbs my darlings!)
I’m mature enough to not have to cover my ass…no need to lie or hide.
I’m secure enough to not give a shit about bullshit.
I’m smart enough to see right through games and false smiles.
I’m nice enough to tolerate those who are intolerable, for the sake of a cause.
Beer and chips are still my friends since I’m working out.
My sense of humor has not left me.
With all its ups, downs, and perfect imperfections, life is amazing. I can’t wait to see what crazy nonsense this year brings for me to hurdle over.
One thing is certain, I will persevere and laugh my way through it all.
If my sticktoitiveness makes you cry along the way, well…..I’m sorry, but this is my life party and I can’t stop to wipe tears.
This is the future, but also right now.
You aren’t welcome back, no way, no how.
No open arms and no open doors.
It’s clear to all, if it wasn’t before.
You are damaged and toxic, with no moral code.
Picking on children at your age. How bold!
We understand your life sucks pretty hard.
But that’s your fault, so don’t throw crap in our yard.
Haters hate and you are no exception.
I’m pretty sure it started at your conception.
If you’re still in the dark, let me turn on the light.
Without you around, the future is bright.
(Word to your mother…..)
Oz may be a movie, but flying monkeys exist in human form. REALIZE: They lack power, as long as you know they’re just cymbal banging, teeth-grinning creatures, whose only purpose is to make noise.
Waiting for a sign is just a different way of saying: "I’m too scared to make the decision I know I need to, so I’m waiting for something to happen in order to justify it."
Don’t feel sorry for individuals with special needs or their families.They know what it is to have strength.
If you must: Feel sorry and pray for people who pretend to care about them while patronizing and judging behind their backs. They are weak.
"It’s complicated. It’s a process. (blah, blah, blah)"
FACT: Some things are quite simple and don’t need to be drawn out. A bit of common sense, decency and intellect travel far.
BUT: We like to hear ourselves talk, admire our place and/or be the paperwork martyr. All the while, turning people into wordy diagnoses that we shove in a prelabeled box we call "A Plan".
**Gotta go put my little diagnoses to bed. I hope he doesn’t do anything to defy his label. It’s such a hassle to get a new box out. And Sharpies are expensive.**
Due to distractions, I wasn’t going to write anything tonight, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes a situation or a person with a narcissistic personality disorder warrants a post to be born. In this case, it would be the latter.
To celebrate my anniversary I posted Jodie Foster inspired me. It seems that one of the spouse-no-mores, (you know) was very troubled by my words.
YOUR VERSION OF REALITY:
(bing.com · Bing Dictionary)
[ di méntəd ]
WHAT I THINK IS DEMENTED:
SO…….Thing 1 (12-years-old) was watching reality television with me last night. It doesn’t seem surprising that reality TV would lend itself to sexual issues, but we weren’t watching Bad Girls or The Bachelor/ette. AND…….Big Brother doesn’t come on for a few more months. I thought I was safe, but clearly, I was wrong.
WE WERE WATCHING:
On this show, aspiring or established chefs compete with merely the taste of their food to get who the hell knows what. Seriously, I haven’t gotten far enough into the show to care. BUT……..Last night a woman said the judges would have a mouth orgasm when they tasted her food. For a second, I thought it had escaped him. Then, Thing 1 asks: “What’s an orgasm?”
Suddenly, I’m in an awkward position. Do I pretend I don’t hear him and change the subject? Do I tell him not to worry about it and forget he heard that word? THEN……. I think about him asking some kid in school who eats his own earwax. What the fuck is that dude gonna say? Do I really want my kid asking dumbasses at school what shit means? Hells no!!
That won’t work! I don’t want to be the cause of kids around America substituting the word imagination with masturbation.
Oh my goodness. I definitely don’t want to go there.
ME: You don’t need to say that word. It’s a sex word.
Thing 1: Oh?
ME: It has to do with feeling good.
Thing 1: (looks at me as if to need more information)
ME: Boys your age or a bit older can make themselves feel good all on their own in the privacy of their room.
Thing 1: (red faced and clearly uncomfortable….) Okay mom. I’m good. Let’s stop talking about this now.
After that little adventure, WE MOVED ON TO:
On of the girls trying out was a young single mom. She began talking about her struggles being so young and raising a child on her own.
Thing 1: That was really dumb not waiting to have a kid. People should wait.
ME: (pumped up from my previous little convo) I don’t think it was thought out. Things like that happen when people are too busy having fun and not being careful.
Thing 1: Well, I’m never going to do stuff like that.
ME: You say that now, but you’ll see a girl some day and get really excited about touching her boobies and that will lead to something else.
Thing 1: (uncomfortable laughing)
ME: Don’t do something stupid and mess up your life or some girl’s life. Be good or be safe.
Thing 1: Okay. I’m not going to do anything.
ME: Well…..If you aren’t smart, the best case…..you get an infection that requires the doctor. It’s possible you get some girl pregnant and then life as you know it……bye, bye. Worst case is a disease that kills you. It might take a few years, but you’ll die. Just saying.
Thing 1: I’m going to bed mom. (….20 minutes earlier than his bedtime)
OKAY……..So who wants me to talk to their kids about the birds and the bees? What about sex stuff?
Today is my four-year wedding anniversary. Condolences can be sent to my husband at a later date.
Making it through another year of marriage is amazing.
I’m proud to say, I’ve handled my relationship almost completely sober, 100% drug-free and without stuffing my face with Crisco frosted Twinkies.
We’ve had our ups and down. We fight like cats and dogs, but we make up like sex-starved teens with better stamina.
There are some people I’d like to thank who made this union possible. First, I’d like to thank my ex-husband.
If it weren’t for his penis constantly popping out of his pants and going into others, I might still be in an unsatisfying marriage.
Next, I’d like to thank my husband’s ex.
Due to the high probability that we’ll end up as victims on an episode of Snapped, we must be delicate.
Thanks for your “inappropriate” relationships.
After my speech, please remind me to buy a Taser and get a restraining order.
I’m blessed to have a husband who doesn’t mind having a used/pre-owned car.
Yes. I did just say that about myself. BUT…I’ve got plenty of mileage left.
As my hubby says: “We’ll never get a divorce. The sex alone will keep me here.”
He can use this almost 43 year-old with four kids all he wants.
He doesn’t mind if I work outside or inside the home. I don’t mind if he uses neck ties or bungee cords.
It doesn’t get much better than that kids.
I love you Mr. Articles of Absurdity!
Happy No Divorcesary!
(…thanks for loaning me the dress Jodi.)