writing

My Brain Hurts So Look At this Pretty Picture Instead.

I have been on a writing hiatus. I had to take some time to let my brain readjust to a lot of stuff going on in my personal life as well as to what has been going on in this country. My brain…it hurts. I have so much that I want to say. I have so much that I carry strong opinions on but finding the right words to perfectly convey my thoughts an feelings has proven to be a difficult task in these often tumultuous times. So. Instead I am going to post a picture of something pretty. Because I need some beauty to help combat all of this ugliness I see and I thought I would share that beauty with you.

Beautiful-view-of-Smoky-Mountain-National-Park

My Favorite Place to Go

I love the mountains. I feel the pull to return to them almost daily. Seeing this picture reminds me of how peaceful I feel when I am in the mountains and gives me something to look forward to when I do finally return.

Shameless

Walking through life with the weight of the world upon my shoulders.

Pushing to break free from the chains of shame that bind me to my past.

To my mistakes.

To my fear.

To the constant threat of being found an impostor in my own skin.

I am not perfect.

But I will walk with shoulders back, eyes forward, chin lifted.

A silent, yet physical protest to the devils in my head,

whispering their words of guilt-inducing discouragement.

I will continue to try to live my life as I want to.

I will continue on.

Shameless

 

 

 

Copper Top and the Grey: It’s Been A Long Time Coming

I have an announcement and a little back story. First, the back story.

When I was 17 years old, I met someone that will ALWAYS be in my life. I spent the summer after my highschool graduation essentially living on her couch. I was so much a part of that particular group of people that I had status at the apartment. The couch was my spot (much like Sheldon) and if I wanted to sit or lay down, others had to move. I slept on that couch, cried on that couch, laughed and sang and acted goofy with my friends on that couch. And I spent the majority of my time with that chic. She and I became fast friends and even though life has taken us in different directions at times, we always come back to our friendship as though no time has passed. She is the inspiration for me starting this blog. She is the inspiration for the name of this blog. And now, she is going to be a PART of this blog! <— That was supposed to be the announcement!

I want to extend an extremely warm welcome to my friend, Coppertop. She will be posting, just like me. There will be posts by us individually (We will sign our names to differentiate who wrote what: Her being the Snarky Coppertop and me being The Grey) and then there will be posts that are collaborative and there will be posts that are simply little transcripts of our conversations. We decided last night that our conversations are too ridiculous not to share, so you shall gain some insight into our little corner of crazy. Hopefully you all will cackle like crazy, as we both do.

So hopefully, in the necxt week or two, posting will become more regular again and there will be more entertaining content to enjoy and share.

Smoochies~

The Grey

The Insecure Woman Who Could

via Daily Prompt: Capable

It wasn’t as though I always believed myself worthy of success. Growing up, I was always scared of success. Because if I could succeed, then surely, I could fail. The fear of failure is crippling. Things I never relayed to my parents, why I hated the “P” word so much (Potential, in case your mind went other places), why I always performed up to, but not fully, my capabilities all through school. I always held back. Because fear. Fear of failure, fear of disappointing my parents, teachers, and mostly, myself. My fear kept me from being the straight A student I could have been and that harmed me more than failing ever could. I stunted myself because of fear…and I let that trend continue as I got older.

fear-quote-stephanie-malish

It took going through hell-fire to learn how to fail without fear. To learn how to live without fear. It took doing things that scared me the most to realize the experience and the journey is so much more satisfying because I *did* them rather than fantasizing about them. I feared failing when I went back to college. I was a young single mom to three children. But I had an amazing support system and that gave me just enough confidence to take that leap and apply. I got in. I feared failing my classes because I did not want to waste the money and the time that I had. College is expensive! And I was paying for this, securing all the grants and loans, on my own. This was my debt, my educational burden to bear. And I won’t lie, I failed some classes. Oh did I ever fail some classes. But, I didn’t let that discourage me enough to quit. Instead, I used that to propel me forward to do better, so I could graduate. So I could get my degree. And I did it. I rocked my senior seminar class, wrote a thesis that led to me acing my senior seminar class, and that was a great accomplishment in my own eyes. And I got my degree.

gray-quote

Post graduation, I was afraid of moving forward into the big, bad world to get a real “big girl” job, because what if no one wanted me? What if I thought I could do it and was wrong? What if I…FAILED?!?!?! SURPRISE…failure happens. I’ve had a few jobs since graduation. One of them I was actually fired from because I was not performing to the standards of what the owner of the company thought was necessary. It wasn’t that I was not doing my job, it was that my job expectations and duties kept changing and zero effective communication took place. But I also don’t handle micromanaging very well and he was slightly…well, super extreme type A and had a really condescending and slightly explosive attitude. And as humiliating as it was to get that pink slip, I was more relieved than anything because I wasn’t happy there. I wasn’t respected and I never would be. So getting fired was amazing. ALL that stress was simply gone. And guess what? I didn’t die.

face-your-fear-quote

I still do things that scare me. Just to try it. I traveled to NOLA all by myself, twice, to vacation in the city. I loved that time to myself and wish to return to NOLA so bad I can taste it. I fell in love with a city when I did something that scared me. I went to a haunted house that had zombies who chased my husband and me. It scared me. I cried. I didn’t die. But I do know that I will  N E V E R visit a haunted house again because I do N O T like any of that shit. I contributed to an anthology that was recently published. THAT was scary! But they didn’t reject the essay I wrote. And it was reviewed well. So I conquered, at least a little bit, that fear of failure.

fear-quotes-best-images-pics-photos-pictures-10

There is still so much more that I can and want to do. And now I know, for the most part anyways, that I am capable, I am worthy, I am better than good enough. As long as I do not let fear dictate the steps I don’t take, as long as I continue to maintain confidence and realistic expectations, I can do what I want and need to do to succeed.

Don’t let fear take away your ability to move forward. Don’t let your insecurities steal from you life experiences that are rewarding, gratifying, once-in-a-lifetime events that you will regret skipping over. Let that fear drive you to push past the boundaries you have set because who knows? You may find that pushing past this fear has led you to the most successful time in your life.

 

 

I did a thing…

and that thing was contribute to an anthology of essays for a book. It was finally published and printed. Here is the link to it

The Goddess in America

That is for the e-book. You can get it in print as well. I did. And it is Prime eligible.

If you are interested in different cultures, religions, and feminist opinions, I suggest you read this. I loved writing my piece for it and I am so excited to read the rest of the book.

My piece is called, “From Marilyn to Maleficient, Pop Goes the Goddess”

I hope y’all enjoy it!

And JUST when I thought things were getting better….

I get slammed with all new insanity. Someone up there is laughing at me.

Ever live in a house infested with mold?

I have. At the end of August, I discovered a ginormous wet spot in our rental home’s dining room corner. Upon further investigation, it seems the HVAC condensation line had been leaking (between the walls, mind you) for only who knows how long and there was MOLD GROWTH that was all the way up in the master bedroom closet to all the way down in the kitchen. Mold growth on the OUTSIDE of the walls…which means it was leaking for a while!

Mold, y’all. MOLD. YUCK.

So of course, we got the *F* outta there. The leasing company released us from our lease agreement without penalty, thankfully, so now my brood and I are living with my parents (which is a whole other blog post) until I can find another home. Which means a new adventure of trying to buy a house. How fun!

And, as icing on the cake, at the beginning of September someone decided to try and make a left hand turn through my brand new, only made TWO payments on it car. This is not a new to me pre-owned car. This was a straight off the lot, brand new car where the only mileage on it was from test drives.

So there is that.

Currently, the things that filled my home are sitting in storage. Currently, my car is sitting at the collision center that my family has used for an umpteen number of years and I have no clue when I will get her back.

I had intended to keep up with this blog after my last post but…if my intentions were used for anything other than updating my blog, it would be for paving the road to hell…if I believed in hell. And again, life got in the way.

But seriously, can the universe just stop now? I’m tapping out. The mysterious “They” say events happen in threes. Well, I have had my three happen this summer right on top of each other and I am done. I give. I don’t know what else to do to get it through to whomever is laughing at me up there that the joke has been played out and is no longer funny. I’m ready for my life to be normal again. Well…as normal as it will ever be. I’m ready to sleep in my big bed, ready to have my own space, ready to drive my own car instead of this shitty rental.

These are all very first world, very whiny, priviledged wants and desires. I am fortunate to have a great job so I can afford my vehicle, fortunate to be able to pay for the awesome insurance I have (State Farm kicks ass, y’all) so my car can get fixed and I can HAVE a rental instead of driving around a wrecked car with a wheel that might fall off an any given moment. I am very fortunate to have the family support so I had a safe place for my children and pets when we moved and a roof over our heads until we move into our new house (when I find/buy it). I am extremely fortunate to be able to wake up everyday and have the coffee I want, wear the clothes I want, eat the food I want, etc etc etc…I get it. I am a very priviledged white chic who should count her blessings. And I do, believe me I do.

My situation could be vastly different. I’m so very cognizant of that. My life is pretty blessed compared to most so I really shouldn’t complain. I really shouldn’t but…

Dammit, I want my car back. I want my house. I want my LIFE AS I KNEW IT back!!! The only constant in the universe is change. I know that. Understand that. And I know that in order to grow, change must occur…but why does it all have to be at once?

Life.

It is something I don’t excel at at the moment, but I’m working on it. If anyone finds the instruction manual, send it my way, will ya? I’m struggling….

Birthday Wishlists

I’m shamelessly copying and pasting my birthday wishlist I posted on my personal Facebook page on Friday. I’ve altered it so it reads more accurately in regards to my birth date…which is today. I have zero shame about re-posting this because I feel it needs to be said.

My birthday is today. I keep getting asked what I want. Honestly, I have all the material things I could ever need. What I *WANT* is this:

I want, when a police officer encounters a person of color, I want that police officer to not make any assumptions. I want that police officer to not shoot that person of color for reaching for his ID.

I want police officers to stop using their badge as an excuse to shoot people.

I want people to stop assuming all cops are bad cops. I know some pretty amazing police officers and they shouldn’t have to pay (with their lives) for other officers terrible mistakes.

I want people of color to not experience the egregious racism that remains in this country.

I want people of color to not have to mourn the loss of their children, husbands, mothers, wives, family, friends…simply because they are black.

I want white people to pop their privileged bubble (yes, I am one of them so don’t start) and open their eyes to the injustices, the inequalities, to the unacceptable state of our country.

I want others to realize the Civil Rights movement is STILL HAPPENING!!! Until everyone realizes that we are STILL ACTIVELY FIGHTING inequality, racism, bigotry and hatred, NOTHING will ever change! I can NOT stress this one enough!!!

I especially want my friends to stop assuming that being assholes to each other on these posts about what we, collectively, can do to help is in anyway helpful. Don’t jump on someone else for being a FB Activist if you can’t list every damn thing you have done to prove you are not another armchair/desk chair FB Activist just looking to stir the pot. Be a part of the solution, don’t add to the unrest, sadness, anxiety, or any other negative emotion that is floating out there-there is already QUITE enough out there as it is.

Will I get everything that I really *want*? No. I’m a realist with this. What I want is pretty idealistic. But I still want it.

A Country On Fire

#BlackLivesMatterToo

#StopTheHate

#BeAnAlly

#PhilandoCastile

#AltonSterling

#NeverForget

I am in fear.

But not for myself.

I am in fear for my friends of color, fear for my family members of color, fear for all children of color who are being raised to know that, despite all the “progress” in the civil rights movement, there is still SO much further we need to go before their parents can sleep at night knowing their kids, their family members, THEY are safe.

Our country is on fire. We are being consumed by it. The flames of hate and violence are feeding on our fears, feeding on the intolerance, feeding on the blatant racism that is still so prevalent in this country. Yes, I see it. I live in the South. I see the looks my black friends get. I see the differences in treatment in the justice system. I see the differences in treatment by the law enforcement agencies.

I never thought, in my lifetime, I would see this. I never thought my children would have to see this. I have always taught it is not the color of the person’s skin that is important, but what is in their hearts. That we are all equal and that we are better than no other person around us.

I have never felt more naive in ALL MY LIFE.

I am a white woman, living in the South, married to a white man. I have white kids. I have never had to experience racism. I have never had to fear for my life because I am white. I have never had to worry someone would assume my teenage son was a threat and take his life before thinking twice just because he was a male with a certain skin color. I have never lost a family member to violence based upon their skin color. I have never experienced ANY of the atrocities that black people have because I AM WHITE. And that is what makes me naive, that is what makes me ignorant. My white privilege has made me blind to the world around me and this wake up call, this sudden thrusting of the realities of this world and how things really are sickens me. How could I be so naive? How??

HOW?!?!?!

I wish I knew. So, I am apologizing. I am sorry for anything I may have said that was naively racist. I am sorry for any assumptions I may have shared that were blatantly wrong. I am SO SORRY.

I hate this. I hate this violence. I hate that people are dying because they are black. Yes, that is what is happening. People are dying, being KILLED, because they are black. And then the protesting…the peaceful protesting of these terrible acts…shattered by more violence. More deaths. More anger. More protests. More violence. More deaths…..its this terrible vicious cycle that we keep playing out over and over and over again and it is solving NOTHING.

SHOOTING PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE BLACK IS WRONG.

SHOOTING COPS DURING A PEACEFUL PROTEST IS WRONG.

SHOOTING PEOPLE BECAUSE YOU DON’T LIKE THEM IS WRONG.

SHOOTING PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE GAY, OR MUSLIM, OR CHRISTIAN, OR WHITE, OR LATINO, OR ANY OTHER REASON IS WRONG.

SHOOTING PEOPLE OUT OF FEAR BECAUSE OF THEIR SKIN COLOR IS WRONG.

SHOOTING COPS IN RETALIATION IS WRONG.

Violence begets violence begets violence. It’s a dance we, as a human civilization, are so very familiar with and we can dance it in perfect rhythm and honestly, it’s a dance I wish we would forget sooner rather than later.

But what I will not forget are those who have lost their lives to this violence, due to the obviously ingrained racism that is so pervasive in law enforcement agencies all over the country. And I will not forget the officers that have also lost their lives to this racial violence-in retaliation or in the line of duty. I have learned something important from this, though. The Civil Rights Movement is FAR from over. FAR FROM IT. In fact, I think we have only begun to scratch the surface.

I am going to try and be a better ally. I am going to try and teach my kids to be better allies. I am going to check MY privilege if I start getting complacent. Because becoming complacent about this is a direct result OF my white privilege. I have that luxury-people of color DO NOT.

So this is me. Checking my privilege.

 

I’m Back! It’s been a rough couple of weeks.

It’s been a while. Two weeks. Two weeks since I posted about Orlando. Within that time frame, there have been shootings after murders after killings and I had to take a mental vacation from all of the violence.

Someone I know died last week. She lost her life to gun violence. It’s been all over the news. Last night I had to turn it from the late news, which I generally fall asleep to, because they did coverage of a vigil. And I just couldn’t anymore. I switched it to House Hunters and passed out, mulling over all of the craziness that has taken place. It’s overwhelming and I had to force myself to go to sleep.

I took some family time. I took some time to heal (I had a terrible cold). We went to Maryland to visit with my sister, we went to Gettysburg, Washington DC, North Carolina. My kids are still with my sister. I am now back home with the husband.

I feel like this nation is coming apart at the seams. All of this violence. All of this hatred. The vilification. Black, white, Muslim, Christian…man. Did everyone forget we are all human beings? I guess we have forgotten. Forgotten our humanity. Our compassion. Our love for our fellow man, regardless of race, religion, or creed.

So I had to take a break. I had to take a step back because my last couple of posts were slightly political and seeing as I am *NOT* a very political person, I had to push the reset button and just chill for a moment. Do some things that helped to replenish my soul, feed my heart, soothe my mind. I still have work to do-my nerves are still on edge. I could cry at the drop of a hat here lately. My emotions are so close to the surface that I am touchy about every damn thing ever.

So this is going to be a short post. I have not given up on my goal of writing…but I had to take some time to heal mentally and emotionally from all of the awfulness that is going on out there. Cuz there is a shit ton of crazy out there right now.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

What Stanford Taught Me

The man who thought it was okay to grope a woman he didn’t know at the bar, simply because he felt he had the right. He bought that drink for her. He should get something for it. Right?

The teenage boy who untied the cute girls’ bikini top at the neighborhood pool. Come on, it was just for fun. No one saw anything. Well…at least that is what he told her as his friends sneaked pictures of her naked breasts as she hurriedly tried to cover herself, ashamed.

The father who, while in front of his sons and daughters, made comments about how women who dress a certain way might deserve harassment. They drew attention to themselves with that outfit. Maybe next time they will think twice. That what happened to them is their fault.

The guy who takes advantage of an intoxicated woman. Sure, she is drunk. Yeah, her inhibitions are lowered. Does that mean she wants you to touch her breasts? Does that mean you have her permission to put your hands down her panties? Did she say yes? Did she say no? She’s too drunk to talk? She isn’t saying anything at all?  Hrmmm…that’s quite a dilemma, that is.

SHAME. ON. YOU.

Shame on you. In a day and age where everyone is so up in arms about consent, everyone is so damned PC that even SOUTHPARK has been joking about it with the PC Principal and his “pussy-crushing” frat boys who administer social justice everywhere-ironically whether there is consent or not. Shame on you, offenders, for perpetuating what is known as #rapeculture.

Buying someone a drink, and them accepting it, does NOT automatically give anyone consent to put their hands on someone simply because they bought the drink. And just because that kid was a teenage boy, still a minor, still a juvenile, does not excuse his behavior at the pool. “Boys will be boys”  and “they were just having fun” is a way for society to remove culpability from who is actually at fault: THE BOYS WHO WERE OFFENSIVE. This is a terrible way to raise our children. Do you shrug your shoulders at a dog who randomly attacks people at will, with the excuse of “dogs will be dogs” and “they were just having fun”? Of course not! If a dog attacks, there are always consequences! And hey there, judgmental dad of sons AND daughters out there. Do you want your daughters to grow up with the knowledge that, even if it isn’t their fault, YOU still believe they deserved it because they wore a skirt? Or high heeled shoes? Or a bathing suit? Or even, oh, I dunno, CLOTHES? Because what you are doing is so damaging. You are teaching your daughters that if they wear something that even ONE PERSON believes is provocative, then they MUST be at fault because if they dressed properly, this never would have happened. You are teaching your son’s that it is okay to objectify, slut shame, and harass women who wear clothes. Yep, I said clothes. Because no matter the length of the skirt or the tightness of the pants, NO ONE deserves to be sexually harassed or assaulted at all, least of all based on their clothing choices. That is such a jacked up way to teach your daughter about her self worth and a jacked up way to teach your son about how to treat others. Period. And hey dude at the party/bar/social function with alcohol: IF SHE CAN’T SAY YES IT AUTOMATICALLY MEANS NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can’t stress this enough. If she (or he) can’t say yes, keep doing this or yes, please touch me, or yes, I WANT THIS, PLEASE PUT YOUR (insert noun of choice here) IN MY(insert noun of choice) then DO NOT ATTEMPT SEXUAL ANYTHING WITH HER/HIM!!!

SILENCE DOES NOT EQUAL CONSENT!!!

Why is that so hard?? Why is it so hard to NOT violate someone? Why is it so hard to treat strangers and loved ones and friends with the respect and dignity they deserve??? Why is it so hard?

The case in Stanford is what prompted this, yes. Today, I read the statement the victim read to her attacker. I refuse to read the letter the father of the accused wrote, although I have seen blurbs and I believe the “20 minutes of action” phrase needs to be changed to “the 20 minutes my son took to violate the unconscious woman’s body without her consent”. But, the world isn’t perfect. And what really scares me is I have a teenage son. He is 4 years younger than the kid who did this. 4 years isn’t a lot of time. I am afraid that I don’t have enough time to continue to instill in my son that his fellow human beings are precious, that they are to be treated with respect no matter what, that it is never okay to hurt someone, that it is never okay to force himself or his actions upon another person. Is 4 years enough time to make sure he understands that he needs to be responsible with his decisions? With his actions? That one wrong decision can ruin the rest of his life and that of others as well? I wonder these things because through all the news reports, all of the media coverage, not once did I see where the father took a little responsibility for his son’s wrong choice. Instead, he worried about the damage to his son’s life, career, education… even his ability to eat. I’m sorry, sir, but did you ever stop to think about the irreparable harm your son caused to another living human being? HE RAPED AN UNCONSCIOUS WOMAN. Do you even care about that? About how SHE will live now? Everything that I have read points to the word, “NO.” I’m sorry, but in the world I grew up in, if you made a bad choice you had to live with the consequences of your choice, regardless of how much you didn’t think you deserved them. In my mind, the father is no better than the son.

No…this woman did not deserve this. She didn’t deserve to be victimized, violated, shamed. No one deserves to be victimized, violated, and then shamed. No one deserves to have their assault used as a weapon to further victimize them. No one deserves to have their consent taken from them. No one.

I am sorry to all the people out there that have been violated. I am sorry to all of the families who have had to help pick up the pieces when their family member’s life was shattered like that. I am sorry to the teenage girls having to endure the harassment and judgment and torment brought on by those who don’t understand respect for their fellow human being. I am sorry to the teenage boys who are groped by older women or men. I am sorry to the drunk girl/guy having to fend off unwanted advances because their date doesn’t understand no means no! I am sorry there is a lack of respect for humanity. I am sorry that we live in a world where these apologies have to even be made.

So where is the lesson in all of this? I don’t know. I don’t know how to teach someone to NOT rape, not violate another persons consent like that. I don’t know how to make the point any more than I already have. But the lesson I have taken away from the Stanford ruling is that the judge believed this guy’s future was more important than what he did and how it will continue to affect his victims future. The judge taught me that he placed more value on this guy’s life than that of the victim. And that is a hard, and scary, lesson to learn.