A Good Day

I woke up this morning in a mood.  I usually wear some form of black to work...black shirt, skirt, pants, blah blah blah.  This morning I was in the mood for an early spring. So I went into the closet and chose a crochet sheath dress in beige.  It's a little on the short side and I decided to wear it bare legged with a high platform heeled darker beige pump. I put on my lucky shell necklace, which went well with the dress because the cord is braided and the color fit right in. Hmmmm....

I left for work and decided to go through the Starbucks drive through.  As I pull up for my Venti White Chocolate Mocha (non fat, no whip), the coffee chick says "this cup is on the person that was ahead of you"!  What???  Dizzy got smacked by a Random Act of Kindness (RAK) and enjoyed it.  I usually pay it forward in the line, but I thought the people at work could benefit, so I waited and when I went downstairs to the coffee kiosk at work for a plain coffee refill, I dropped 10 bucks down so two more people could get smacked upside the head by a RAK! Damn, that felt good.

When my co-worker got to work she said I looked "Smokin"...SWEET! I was looking as hot as I felt.  Then, just to prove my co-worker isn't biased, God sent someone else with the same compliment.  First they asked if I had a hot date tonight (sadly, no...but I was meeting friends). Then they said I looked "Smokin".... Can it get any better???  I should've played the lottery!

My notes from yesterday's meeting went well and the clarification I sent to Management went over even better. I may make my early deadlines, yet...knocking on wood!

Back on the subject of RAKs.  When I'm feeling at my lowest point, I love doing RAKs to make myself feel better.  It's kind of selfish, but the good book says "There's more happiness in giving than receiving" and I believe that (although both feel pretty damned good). I've taught my boy the same thing.  If you're feeling low, doing something nice for someone else will make you feel better. So, I've done the Starbucks thing, or I leave extra money at the cash register for someone after me.

One time, a woman in front of me at the cafeteria forgot her wallet and had her lunch ready to go.  I told the cashier that I've got it and paid for my lunch and for hers.  She asked my name and I said "Cindy Crawford...please just enjoy your lunch" and I walked off as fast as I could.  I don't like fuss, and I know others would do the same for me.  I ended up taking a couple of days off, and wasn't back in the cafeteria for a week.  When I came in and got something, the cashier handed me an envelope.  Inside was the sweetest card from the RAK recipient and money to pay for her lunch.  The card would've been enough...it was never about the money. But the smile her card gave me was really all I could want.

I have a hard time with people that stand in the middle of the street on the islands with signs asking for money or help.  There's one intersection that I'm at often, and the man with the sign is pretty young and looks pretty healthy.  I refuse to believe that there's nothing he can do to help himself.  Worse, are people who are holding the signs with their kids in tow.  REALLY?  You're subjecting your children to the elements to beg?  Don't get me wrong, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for my kid or my niece, nephew, etc.  and that includes begging if it came to that.  However, there has to be a line at what you'll subject your kid to.

I fucking HATE being conned by a freeloader. One time, downtown, a person came up to me when I was with friends and gave a really good story about only needing a dollar for bus fare to get home, losing their wallet, etc.  I said "a dollar will get you home?" and they replied "absolutely". So I gave them the dollar.  A couple of hours later, we're walking down that same stretch, and there's the person hitting someone else up for a dollar.  I was so pissed I went up to the latest sucker and told them not to give this lying stack of shit any money.  If you push me...I'll stand up to you and you can bring it! I'm not gonna back down.  I made a huge scene so others around us wouldn't give this person any money.

I'm all for kindness and helping others...I just don't like con artists taking advantage of someones good nature. And to be honest, I don't want all ya'll being fooled that I'm a good person or something
from this post.  I'm an average person and if I can help someone I will, if I can't I won't. It's simple.  And the RAKs that I do, I do them selfishly, so I'm really not getting any points from the man upstairs to solidify my place in heaven.

Anyway, I had a fabulous time at happy hour with my friends. I had tequila (in my margarita) for the first time in 4 weeks.  Hmmmm, I must be doing pretty good! We dished about work stuff and house stuff. Not as many people showed as we thought would, so it was intimate with just the 4 of us. One of the gentlemen is a truly nice guy.  He never says anything bad about anyone.  If he says a negative, he always follows it up with a positive.  Just a true man.  His wife is a lucky woman.

Anyway, all in all...it was a good day. Tomorrow is my Friday at work (albeit a short day) so I'll be there, and afterward collecting stuff for the birthday party I'm throwing for two of my besties on Saturday. I'll mow the front lawn tomorrow evening to prepare and then...it is ON!

Gonna finish my cinnamon whiskey and head to bed (have I told you how much I love my bed?).  G'nite Peeps!

24

I had a great walk last night and it was beautiful.  The weather here is really nice.  It was cold, but not too cold, and there was a breeze that would lift my hair and kiss the back of my neck.  Everything smelled clean and the neighborhood was quiet.  My stomach was a little tight, so I didn’t get as far as I would’ve liked.  I can usually average a 5 mile walk, but this one was more like 2 miles. I didn’t want to push it…I don’t need complications with so much on my plate right now and so many plans for the future.

There was a full moon last night too, and to see it peeking up through some giant thuja trees was really quite spectacular.  There were even the little wisps of clouds surrounding it and appeared in different colors of purple, blue and pink.  It was a romantic moon. It was the kind of moon that makes you long for the right person to slide your hand into theirs and feel the warmth of their fingers curl around the back of your palms.  The kind where you don’t speak because you know that they know what you’re thinking and there’s no need to disturb the silence.  It made me miss being in complete sync with someone and that’s a hard thing to find. 

The great part was that when I left for work this morning, the moon was still beautifully luminous despite the rising sun trying to chase it away. I’m thankful that I recognize the beauty around me, that I take time so see it when so many let the moments pass them by. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to describe something so breathtakingly beautiful to someone who doesn’t have their sight.  I am blessed.

After I got back from my walk, I got 6 calls from one of the “J’s”.  The last one was received around 11:40 p.m.  I’ve made it clear that I wake up early and this girl needs her beauty Zzzz’s!  Normally, I’d just shut this person down, but given that he’s MMs brother and he’s hurting, I just couldn’t do it last night.  Plus, I use my phone as an alarm clock so I can’t turn the ringer off.

However, I did make sure that he stayed off the topic of the twins (his favorite subject, even though he’s never been up close and personal with them…other than a hug) and on topic of other things, like his brother.  He does have a wicked sense of humor but most of it is nasty humor.  I can laugh with the best of them, but some of it was tasteless and that late at night without tequila…well… I did end up getting up and grabbing a shot of Fireball. 

He kept asking me to come pick him so we could go for Japanese food, and I kept telling him that everything is closed and I’m in for the night.  The funny thing is, I can see him taking his brother’s place as a friend, if he could just keep it that way. I can’t be anything more than that to him…especially since his brother and I were so tight. I just don’t think he can keep it on that level.  The cool thing is, with most of my guy friends, I can talk about taboo subjects that women don’t talk to men about (and vice versa), and I like that. It’s like having an “in” on a special club or something.  This “J” could give me some seriously fun and weird intel, but I’m not willing to go there if he can’t just be friends. He can be such a TOOL!  Ah well…

Today the monkey was dancing up a storm. I love Project Management, but it has its moments. It’s difficult when other people want to make sure all aspects of their jobs are covered under the auspices of my project…but my project scope won’t allow the scope creep.  When that happens, I have to pull the rug out from under someone and hope I do it with class and respect.  Not always easy given my propensity to forego political correctness and utilize blunt force trauma at the slightest mention of additional requirements and funding. We also had vendors on the conference phone, so I try to keep things short and tight.

After I got home, I got out the bucket and scrub brush and gave the Beast (Hemi Durango) the washing of his life.  Got off all the Tahoe dirt and bird stuff....He looks SWEET!  The day is coming to an end.  Sorry, it isn't going to be as dramatic as the series 24, but you just never know....

Decisions

The time has come for me to make some decisions for the house.  Yeah, I realize that some of you have no sympathy for me.  I know what you’re thinking because I heard it before, i.e. “You’re so lucky, you get to pick what you want”, “You get so many choices”…OOOoooo.

I think you’re forgetting that this is a girl that would wear the same outfit every day if she could to avoid having to make decisions on color, occasion, fit, blah…blah…blah!  The only thing I enjoy choosing is my lingerie. If I didn’t receive help from my paint guy, stucco guy and cement guy, I’d still be trying to figure out what color goes with walls, floor, etc. around this crib of mine.

So, I’m trying to figure out what kind of floor to put into my bedroom.  Do I go laminate, tile, wood or carpet?  I’m leaning toward carpet because it’s the least expensive, will feel good on my feet when I get out of bed and would only be in the bedroom/office.  With the other choices, I’d need area rugs and stuff.  If I can save money on the floor, I may have enough to complete the office and tile the patio with some kind of cheap terra cotta tile (stay with my Mexico theme).

What I need to do is put on my cost-savings hat (like I did before) and really work some deals to make my dollar stretch as far as possible.  I need to determine my “needs” versus my “wants”! Being responsible can suck sometimes.

NEEDS:                                                                              WANTS:

Pay off my house debts                                                  Gas Grill

Flooring in the bedroom                                                Property next door

Finish Office area                                                            Terra Cotta tile on Patio

Sofa/chaise in living room                                             Wine rack corner to fit all of my wine bottles

Property clean-up                                                            Matching dishware

Property Fencing                                                             Matching silverware

Repair work on shed                                                       Courtyard paver stones

*Screens on French doors and Front door                 *Screens on French doors and front door

Glass shower half door on master                               Another nightstand for the other side of the bed.

SolarTube for natural light in living room                   Nightstand lamps

                                                                                           

*I really couldn’t decide if this is a need or a want. I love to have the doors and windows open in the spring, summer and fall.  Granted sometimes it’s too hot, but the morning hours and late evening are perfect.  And I do live in California so….

Anyway, as you can see, I’m going to eat up whatever money I have to get these things completed, not to mention the trips I “need” to make versus the trips I “want” to make this year. 

1.      I’m going to Oregon/Washington in May and taking my Nephew to see his Dad.

2.      My Son would like me to visit him in Tulsa, OK

3.      My Brother would like me to visit him in Omaha, NE

4.      My Sister in Law is getting married in Clarksville, TN this fall

5.      I have reservations in Cabo for October

Lucky for me, I have plenty of vacation time.  As a matter of fact, I was required to submit a “plan” to bring my vacation balances down to an acceptable level of 640 hours or less.  And, lucky for me, I have timeshare, which helps out with the cost of lodging.  It’s the plane tickets that are going to cost me. Now I’m considering driving the beast to Oregon, gas will be expensive, but at least I’ll have my wheels. But the others….

But Hey Peeps…at least I have a home, job and timeshare. In the grand scheme of things, I could really be screwed.  I'm off for a walk....

The Evolution of Dizzy

I’m at a pivotal stage of my evolution. I’m beginning to lighten up on my man-hater stance. I think it’s sad that it’s taken the loss of someone special and many years to get here.

CAUTION: This is going to be a heavy read. Proceed at your own risk!

The men in my life have earned their spot through trial, error (usually on my part) and YEARS! Most of the men in my life, I’ve known forever, i.e. at least 15 years. Only one or two don’t meet the lengthy year criteria. I have serious trust issues and always have. Don’t get me wrong…when I’m in a relationship, I trust you 100% at least when it comes to other women. I am not one of those women that check up on their men, because if I have to do that, you’re too much work for me.

My issues stem from the Anti Christ Step-Father. Ok…it’s going to get a little deep here. These are things I don’t normally talk about or tell people. Only a couple of people know the details and the fact that I’m about to put it out into the Internet ether scares the crap outta me. But the ACA classes say that “you’re only as sick as your secrets”…so

The Anti Christ (let’s refer to him as AC to alleviate some typing) came into my life around age 4 (my brother is 14 months younger). He was an ex-con and an alcoholic, but my Mom had extremely low self-esteem and continually hooked up with losers. He is driven by the need to exert power and be smarter than anyone around him. The sad thing is, he’s a complete idiot, but it took me awhile to realize that. The parentals decided to get into the Jehovah’s Witness religion, which put a whole new spin my childhood. AC was driven by the need to be the best witness possible, and expected us to do the same. He eventually became an Elder in the Kingdom Hall (church) and we were expected to have our bible verses memorized, and to be the ultimate example of what witness children should be. The pressure was enormous.

Our home was a “spare the rod, spoil the child” home. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the older we got, the more violent the beatings. My sister came along when I was 8 years old. Since she was his biological child, she was never beaten like we were. I’m not upset about that because it meant that I didn’t have to try and deflect any anger going in her direction. But my brother could never quite measure up to whatever it was that AC wanted, so I had my work cut out for me there.

AC was a master at the ultimate mind fucks! He was constantly trying to mess with our heads to get the upper hand and make himself feel superior. The older I got, the better I got at these games, and soon, I was manipulating situations so that my brother wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of ACs anger. Don’t get me wrong…I could not save him all the time, but more often than not, I was able to deflect ACs attention from him to me. AC was also a screamer. It got to the point where mentally, I could shut out the sound of his voice and not hear it…but then I’d get in trouble if he was yelling for me and I didn’t come running. I didn't realize that it took me well into my twenties to break this. Once someone would start yelling, my hearing would click off.

Around age 11, the method of punishment changed from a leather strap to his fists. I don’t know if my mother chose not to see it, but I do know that she had her own prison and often had bruises, black eyes, etc. I didn’t realize it at first, but AC loved to see us cry. He felt like he made an impact if he could get that response from me and my brother. The tables started to turn soon after a trip my parents made. They had found some weed in a drawer on their trip and smoked it. They then confessed to the Elders of the Kingdom Hall and AC was demoted very publicly at the Kingdom Hall. I took this as the ultimate betrayal. “You expect me to be perfect, and punish me when I’m not, but you can do whatever the heck you please and we have to suffer it?” And from there, his control started to slip with me. I think he realized it but didn’t quite know what to do, so he just got more violent. Eventually, both parents were excommunicated due to infidelity, and my thought was that due to the hypocrisy, I no longer had to follow the religion.

I was about 14 when all hell broke loose. He had left a set of instructions for house chores for me and my brother. He had drawn a line down the middle to delineate today’s chores versus tomorrow’s chores. However, he moved his line around, which made it confusing for us. So we did what we thought were all of the day’s chores. He came home, looked over the list and was furious because we’d left one of the chores undone (thinking it was for the next day). He started yelling and screaming and calling us liars and thrusting this paper in our face to try and make us change our story and say that we lied. My brother caved in (self preservation) but I got angry. I wasn’t going to cave and let him push me around anymore. I told him that I wasn’t changing my story. His face turned purple with rage and he hauled his fist back and let it fly. He hit me so hard, I flew over our sofa and hit the floor.

He waited for the crying, the sobbing, the “I’m sorry”, the changing of the tune, but it didn’t come this time. I hauled myself up and stared at him, waiting to see what would come next and somehow knowing that this was a defining moment that would change the rest of my life. What proceeded was a beating of a lifetime, but I didn’t make a sound. I shoved everything I was feeling down and showed no emotion. I didn’t even raise my hands to protect myself. When it was over, I stopped talking. I wouldn’t say a word to him or my mother. This went on for a couple of weeks and we had a family vacation looming. He was worried that my silence would ruin the trip, so he kept trying everything he could to get me to talk and participate. I did end up communicating on the trip because I wasn’t going to ruin it for my brother or sister. But from that moment on, he knew that he lost his power over me. No matter what he did, said, or how he punished me, I stopped responding and he hated that.

This is when I became a militant female. I had pretty much formulated in my mind that I would never be treated like my mother and I would never let a man hit me and not suffer consequences for it. I would learn to be independent and self sufficient so I wouldn’t have to rely on a man for support. The problem with this is… I didn’t know where to draw the line. If men can’t be trusted, then how can I allow a man to emotionally support me? How can I bare my soul and hand a man the means to damage it?

Lucky for me, some really great men are a part of my life and have been for years. RW, CH, MM, RK, MK, MM, NT have all somehow managed to tear down the barriers that I put up. They know I’m damaged and that I’m vocal, independent, militant, etc., but they somehow understand and love me nonetheless. The funny thing is, I generally prefer guy friends to girl friends and in my earlier years hung out more with guys. Marriage kind of changed that to a certain extent, but I have guy friends that I hit happy hour with and stuff. My girl friends have attributes that are similar to mine in some ways so they’re familiar to me.

Basically, this is where all the piss and vinegar comes into play. This is why I challenge every man that comes down the pike. This is where my “I don’t give a fuck” mentality comes from and why I speak out the way I do. It doesn’t make me a feminist (as I’ve said in the past) it makes me a survivalist. This is why I usually try to sabotage a relationship so I don’t have to run the risk that a man will screw up my life. But I’ve lightened up a bit. While I’m more of a “want a man vs need a man” in my life, I’m beginning to question what would be wrong with needing. Don’t I want someone to need me? Not to the point where I have to take care of them all of the time, but is love needing or wanting or both?

I freely admit to being an emotional cripple. It’s why I don’t always read signals correctly. The man I’m with may be sending me a signal that he wants me to tell him how much I care about him, and I don’t always read it that way. You know how women expect men to read their minds and to know what they need, how they need it and tell them all the time that they love them? Well, in this analogy…I’m the man. You have to be upfront and blunt for me to get it. Once I do, I’ll make sure to follow through. I am not the kind of woman to ask a man if I look fat in an outfit (a GF, yes)…I don’t want to hear the answer and I don’t care. While I may have body dysmorphia issues, you will not hear me say “I look fat” (it’s the scars that bother me). As every second goes by, my confidence level is higher and higher and I am getting more and more comfortable in my skin. So much so, that aside from my momentary lapse of reason in Cabo, I generally take charge in sexual situations (yes, it must be a partnership, but I’m not going to just lay there and take it without giving back). And since I can’t read your mind, I want you to tell me what you want, how you want it, etc. Just expect the same from me.

This is why, in my dreams, I don't drop the weapon when it comes time for fight or flight. I'm the chick with the katana and I just start hacking away. Or if its a gun, I pull the trigger when necessary. Or if its my fists, then I'm planting one right in your face. This is why, in life, I come off strong. I don't want you detecting any weakness about me. I want the man that is even considering stopping to harass me to be thinking twice about it. But don't make the mistake that I won't follow through, because I will go down fighting...I always have and I always will.

I know this was a heavy read, but I don’t have a heavy heart writing it. I used too, but I’m so much more ahead of the game now. Whether I like it or not, I learned some lessons that other people never get. With a little luck, I’ll just about have my evolution figured out….right about the time I leave this earth in my late 90’s or early 100’s (unless my niece is reading this…then I’ll be about 200...oh, wait, I'm not allowed to die until 3015).

Update

So I didn't post yesterday, but yesterday was an extremely busy day. I had been dreading MMs "Celebration of Life" but it actually turned out ok.  Better than ok. The outpouring of love was amazing and the place was packed.

It was amazing to see all of the Rockers and the Rocker chicks in attendance. Some of us have aged rather well, and others of us...look like we're still partying hard. A lot of the local musicians came out in force and performed. And like MMs brother said..."MM believed in the Sacramento music scene and did everything he could to promote it". If the attendance I witnessed was any indication, I would say he was successful and proud of it.

It was good to be there with my two buddies, and I think it was fitting since we were together during those rock days and we were saying goodbye, not just to great guy, but also an era.

Anyway, it was quite an eventful day and it ended with a bang. And I think I'll just leave it at that.

I'll scan the beautiful program from the Celebration and post them tomorrow.  Right now, I'm headed for much needed sleep. Goodnight Peeps!

The Day Was ON!

It started with a bang! Got my stitches out and my Doc asked me about my boyfriend. I told him we broke up months ago and he asked why. And I told him that he just didn't get my personality and was too jealous. He told me he knows a couple of Kiwani's (?) that would be perfect for me. He suggested I join because "with a personality like yours, you won't be single long". What a sweetheart! A dreamer, but a sweetheart nonetheless.

I then headed to CVS for moisturizer. Walked past a group of men in their late 60's/early 70's drinking coffee in front of the coffee shop. Got my stuff, came back by, got Coffee and joined them!

What a group! All retired, most Vets and just a frakking kick in the pants. They were surprised that I sat down with them but I try not to let opportunities like this pass me by...especially lately. They apologized for being so outspoken, but I laughed and said that I wouldn't have it any other way...and I can dish it as well as take it. They just cracked up! The wealth of knowledge and the stories was just incredible! They gave me a bad time for being single and joked around about me being difficult. I said that just because they weren't men enough to handle me gives them no reason to be haters! That did it.... They were rolling! God, that was so fun!

Jen did my nails and they look fab! I love seeing her. She is a special friend and she took great care of my kitty when my kitty died. I don't know what I would've done without her.

I got one of the nicest compliments of my life. My new friend said "Well, if I be the beholder and I be holding you, then you're gorgeous, on a scale between breathtaking and devastating. And no arguments here - just feel good about the fact that I think that you rock it." I really needed that compliment and I'll tell you why shortly.

I got a little lunch and proceeded to get waxed, cuz my Doc said it was ok. My waxer Shayna is awesome. Great personality and she always remembers what we talked about before...even though I know she has a lot of customers.

I then headed to Trader Joes and picked up some wine and stuff for my soup and headed home. I worked on my kitchen and vacuumed. Then I cracked open a bottle of wine. But as each moment gets closer to tomorrow, I get more emotional and antsy.

I really need someone here to hold me and tell me it will be ok. That I'll get thru tomorrow ok and that my future without my friend is bearable. I got a call from my Boy but I didn't let on about my emotional state. He doesn't need that. But it helped to talk to him. He's doing well and I'm a proud Mom!

So, I keep reading my text from my friend and it's helping. I'm just on the edge. I don't want to be one of those huge criers tomorrow. I just want to soak up the good things I'll hear about him. No, he wasn't a saint and I know that. But I want to leave this on a good note.

No worries peeps... Things will get back to normal.

Having Fun with New and Old Friends

So last night I had dinner and wine with a new friend. OMG, he had me laughing and having fun, which I so needed after the day I had.  We opened up a bottle of wine and I got a tour of his crib. His bobble-head collection of the Sacramento Kings is quite phenomenal!  He cooked a dish of dirty rice with shrimp and brats, which was rather good, but we were talking so much that the next thing I knew, my bowl was empty.  I think that's a good sign.  I ended up leaving a little late...for me (Since I start work so early), but I got home safe and sound.  It was a good night.

Today at work was difficult.  I always have a difficult time sleeping...unless the Beanster is over (which is weird because she always ends up with her head sandwiched in between my head and shoulder and her legs and arms are pinning me down) and last night was no exception.  No amount of coffee was clearing my cobwebs so it took me a good 3 hours to get into the work groove.

In the afternoon, my co-worker Jeff starts talking about some Wine and Jazz festival and tells me that I should go and bring a date.  I asked "why can't I go by myself Jeff?" and his reply was "Then I have to talk to you and I don't want to do that because I'm married and I'll be talking with my wife."  REALLY JEFF?  Not only do you call me a man-eater, but you're unwittingly implying that I'm going to cause issues between you and your wife. Uh...ok....  So I reply back "Why can't I go by myself and just troll for single men?"  I'm laughing so hard I can barely get out the word "troll" cuz I'm really not the trolling type.  He says "I gotta get out of here...this is sexual harassment."  Why, I'm not harassing him, I'm harassing some nameless men at the festival that I haven't gotten to yet!  By that time, Sharon and I are really busting out with mirth and we just can't contain ourselves.  I swear to God, sometimes I think Jeff is the biggest Pollyanna I know.  And I'm the one that was raised a Jehovah's Witness!!!
_________________________________
As each moment goes by though, I'm dreading the upcoming weekend. Going to the "Celebration of Life for MM" is scaring the shit out of me. I find myself on the edge of tears at weird moments. I don't want to think of a life without him in it. A man that was so full of life and now...I don't know. I've been pretty quiet with the FaceBook stuff.  I've shared a couple of the pages created to celebrate him, but I don't say much about it. I've made a couple of comments to his daughter...she's working so hard to pull this off, and I'm so appreciative of her efforts. But to talk about it makes it real. And I really just want to wake up tomorrow and know that this was a bad dream and my friend is still here.

It also scares me because if I can lose him, and my friend/co-worker, that passed away last week, well...I could lose others.  I don't want to lose anyone else.  Enough is enough! And I think that is the crux of the matter.  I'm scared and I don't like being scared. I'm a tough cookie and I don't let much phase me, but this is a prelude to my future. The older I get, the more friends and family I'm going to lose and I don't want to come to grips with that.  I want to hide, dig my head in the sand and refuse to believe it will keep happening to me. I feel like I'm suffering from the adult version of what my niece is suffering though.  All weekend she was asking me if I'm going to die soon.  Am I telling her stuff because I'm going to die? I had to tell her that her Auntie plans on being around for the next 200 years if she can help it...And for her, I'd find a way to kick the Grim Reaper's ass!

Ah well Peeps.  I'm just venting...downloading...processing.  Sooner or later it will click into place, but I'm not sure what the catalyst will be that pushes my mind and my heart into acceptance.  The Serenity Prayer just isn't working for me at the moment.

My Guilty Pleasure...

But I really don't feel any guilt over it....  I have a guilty pleasure.  It's one that I don't tell a lot of people about but I really love it.  Most people, when they hear this think "Ugh...are you kidding me?" But I just can't seem to help myself.  What is it?  Oh God, here it goes....

My guilty pleasure is.... BOY BANDS!  OMG, I absolutely love Boy bands.  You know, like N'Sync, 98 Degrees, Boys to Men, One Direction, Backstreet Boys.  I wasn't really a New Kids on the Block person, but the others... I sing that song "What makes you beautiful" to my niece and she loves it.

What the frak is it about Boy Bands?  I love the way they harmonize. N'Sync does an excellent cover of Christopher Cross' "Sailing"...of course, it's not as good as the original, but I love it all the same.  When I'm driving late at night, I spin the click wheel of my iPod to a Boy Band and start belting out the tunes.

Don't get me wrong,  I love my metal, I love the country songs I like and some hip hop and rap (not crap rap) and I love my old music, i.e. Patsy Cline, Billie Holiday, the Platters..and newer, i.e. Beach Boys (the original Boy Band), Beatles, Stones, ELO, Journey, Van Morrison, etc. But I still have this soft spot for Boy Bands.  I don't fantasize about a Boy Band Sandwich or anything like that...  I think it makes me think of slow dancing (some of it) and I love to slow dance, but never got enough of it (the ex hated to dance).

It makes me sentimental and whimsical. It makes my heart lighter and I feel like all things are possible.  Does that make sense?  It also makes me feel younger for some reason.  It is what it is.

So, yes, this is a short blog, but I made a confession that I may not live down...God help me!  Now I'm off to have dinner with a new friend!  Woohoo!  Have a great night Peeps!

Angels

You know how sometimes, it’s seems like you’re at the very end of your rope.  You just absolutely cannot take one more thing, or issue, or problem because you know you’ll snap in two. And it’s usually at this time that you’re wondering…”Why am I the responsible one?”, “Why does no one seem to get it?”

It’s usually at my most desperate times that somehow, some way…God sends me an angel.  Now before you start thinking that Dizzy is multiple shots past her tequila limit…let me explain.

With my past and my family, there’s been many a time that I’ve reached the “Throw in the towel” limit.  No, I don’t believe in suicide, having had a BFF that shot her head off in HS, and trying to work out my hang-ups with the aftermath of that decision. But that doesn’t mean that when you’re at your lowest point those thoughts don’t ping pong through your brain. There’s many a time in my marriage where the Creed lyrics to “One Last Breath” echoed in my head “Hold me now, I’m six feet from the edge and I’m thinking…maybe 6 feet ain’t so far down”.  Try having that playing in your brain while you’re driving over the Foresthill Bridge (the 4^th highest bridge in the United States at 730 ft) every day for work.  No, this isn’t meant to be a depressing post, but an upbeat one….

Like I said…it’s at these moments that I’m always sent an angel.  Now, I may not recognize the angel right away because God has this really wicked sense of humor when it comes to me and my angels. Sometimes it like one of those “could’ve had a V-8” moments when you smack your head and wonder what took you so long to see the light.

My Boy - You gave me the gift that I never thought I would have. You made me a Mom and it is my finest moment. You gave me purpose and meaning at your birth. While I may have been made a fighter by an asshole, your presence made me hone my skills and test my true meddle. You bring me my highest highs and introduced me to a love that I never thought possible. 

My Beanster - You are a light so true, so pure that there is no equal. You're at an age where you worship me and I worry about the day when you figure out your Auntie is human and full of flaws. The gift of experiencing the world through your eyes is a treasure beyond measure. And you telling me "Auntie, don't tell me about the movie and just cuddle me!" is a moment I'll never forget.

My Nathaniel - You left this world too soon and took a chunk of my heart with you. But you opened your heart to the possibility of us, and for that gift, that I had no right to ask for, I am thankful. I got to be a part of your life and a friend to your mother and father. I was someone to you and I never thought that would happen. You made me realize that the impossible could be possible.

My Nephew - Although you live far away, and I don't know you as well as I'd like too, I love that you know who I am and still talk about Auntie giving you sugar. The sugar is coming again, so you'd better get ready. You have a great smile and an infectious laugh.  You are going to be a great young man.

My Brother - We are connected. I made you flunk Kindergarten (bad Diz). I always know that you're there in the background if I need you. You don't ask for a lot and you give so much Brotherhead. There's so much more, but the words escape me.  I just know that being so close in age has made our relationship so much better. And keeps getting better as we grow older together.

My friends (KW, RW, LW, KV, TS, KA, SA, AA, CF, LS, MM, DP, CM, WT, CH) – OMG, I have a select group of friends that I know would take a bullet for me. And I’ve had them for awhile.  How lucky is that…that I can say that I’ve had them and have held on to them? You are the family of my heart.  You've put up with some seriously whack shit from me and have led me through the dark years. These were the years where I really had no joy.  All I could do was bitch and moan about my sister and mother and the blackmail and stress they heaped on me.  I don’t know why you stuck around, but you gave me the smacking I needed and helped me find the strength to pursue my own joy. You taught me, or reminded me on how to draw lines in the sand and not let people cross them.

You also helped me through divorce.  If any of you know what that is like, you know how important their support is. It’s like taking a bullet to the heart and not knowing if you’ll ever recover, ever find love, ever grow old with someone, etc.  Each of you made it clear that I can grow old with you, so I’m never truly alone.  You show me daily how to survive and fight for myself.  I am stronger and wiser because of you.  You know who you are, and I appreciate you more than you can ever know.

My Ex – You had to put up with my whack family and all the drama that came with it.  You accepted my nephew as your son and adopted him…no hesitation, no questions, just love.  you treat the Beanster as your own and love her unconditionally.  You drops off presents for her and are always looking out for her, no matter what.  Despite our differences and the fact that we cannot be married, you put that aside for them. I know that if anything happens to me, You will be there for them, and that is a comfort beyond measure.  It’s a love/hate thing for me. While I recognize you as an angel, there’s the part where I had to divorce you that still brings me bitterness and angst. I’m getting over it and the fact that I can recognize you as an angel means I’ve made progress.

My Ex-Boyfriend - While it didn't end the way I would've liked it to, you helped me realize that there is a life past divorce. You have some mad skillz and you're fun.  You have a childlike innocence about you that makes it difficult to be mad at you. 

My Blog Buddies – Cat, Myf, Tina, Nola, Mel, etc. They come from all over the globe, and I’ve never met them personally but they are some cool buddies.  They lay it all out on the table and are not afraid to tell it like it is.  I’ve picked up some bad habits like the use of their word “Noice”, which I’m trying to break myself out of cuz I use it too much. But on the upside I’ve added “gobsmacked, craptacular, cruskits, scrummy” and other fun words to my vocabulary.  Now, if they’d only teach me some naughty words, I’d be in the pink!

CC - I didn't expect you. I don't expect you now. But the surprise of you and the feeling of love-at-first-sight is something I'll never forget. You brought magic to an angry heart...a heart angry at divorce and angry at a boyfriend who didn't understand me.  You made my toes curl and my heart beat faster than I thought possible. You also taught me about being in the moment. You made me realize that I shouldn't settle and that the bar is as high as I want it to be. And you brought some fun music.

EB – Holy shit! Your cure for mourning was…really quite spectacular! I thought you were full of it, but I'll be damned if it didn’t dry up my tears and shoulder heaving.  I’ll remember it always. And every time I’m mourning (this weekend, next week, etc.) I’ll recall the memory of it and I know it will lighten my spirit, even if we never cross paths again.

RH - You're new friend that is fun to talk to, has great insight, a wicked sense of humor and makes me smile.  I go to bed laughing at night from your emails. How fun is that?

Nene - A complete stranger (I'll blog about her in the future) that I tried to give a ride to. 88 years of age and walking home from the store with two grocery bags. We had an amazing conversation and I realized I was in the presence of someone uniquely exquisite. An exceptional human being. 

Nameless Angels - Some of my angels are nameless.  Its being the recipient of random acts of kindness, and when it happens I usually need it and it gives me hope that things aren’t really as bad as I think they are.  Because of these nameless angels, I now do random acts of kindness when I’m feeling bad.  Doing something nice for a stranger, without thanks or recognition, takes me beyond myself and my ego and forces me to see the bigger picture…the world around me, not my own world inside me.

Ben Stiller - Yeah, I know…Ben Stiller???  I can hear you laughing right now. Whatup with that? Ben seems to appear at really rough times in my life.  A couple of examples:

Example 1:  Something About Mary – This movie came out when my son (then my nephew) was living with his biological Dad.  I went from having him at my house every other weekend to not seeing him at all because he was in Idaho. I begged and begged to visit him, but my sister had told his Dad that I would kidnap him and to not let me visit. I finally get him to agree that for my birthday, I can visit (supervised) and then he stops returning my calls and shuts me down.  I was heartbroken and couldn’t stop crying.  The ex says “Let’s go to a movie” and I protest and tell him that it won’t change anything.  We go, and I end up busting out laughing and couldn’t stop over that movie.

Example 2:  Zoolander – The Twin Towers fall and I’m horrified of the scenes of people jumping out of the windows to avoid burning to death. Even to this day, I have dreams about it because my one fear is burning to death.  My heart is heavy and I really take the whole thing hard (so did my boy).  I cry at just about anything and I'm not a huge crier. Whether it's true or not, crying makes me feel weak (because my stepfather always tried to make me cry, and once I figured that out I stopped...and it really fucking pissed the asshole off).  My GFs decide it’s time to go to the movies and we pick one that is so idiotic that it’s the yang to the Towers yin. I appreciated that Ben left the Twin Towers in the movie and his stupid humor had me laughing and realizing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

My point is, the aforementioned people have been angels that have helped me through difficult times.  Angels that have been right in front of me, and I didn't realize it. Angels that have been sent to me. I’m so appreciative of that and now, when times are difficult, I keep my eyes peeled for the next angel to come my way…and give thanks to the one that sent them.

Celebrating Gwennie

Today the "Ladies of the 80's" got together and celebrated Gwennie's birthday.  I can use that name cuz it's a nickname we gave her...Gwendolyn aka Gwennie. We had lunch at Benihanna's Teppanyaki and it was totally delish!  The four of us have known each other forever...more than 25 years. We've been through a lot of stuff together, so to have endured that and still enjoy each others company is a frakking miracle.

It was nice to unwind and have some fun.  If you've ever been to one of these places, they grill your food in front of you and each of these stations can sit about 8 people.  There was the four of us and another threesome at the table.  When they asked us what beverage they could bring (remember, this is lunch) the threesome all said "tea". So the waitress is eyeballing me asking me what I want.  I had spied this passionfruit mojito that I just couldn't pass up, so I made a joke about "5 o'clock somewhere" and ordered it.  I unleashed the floodgates, cuz D (a different D) ordered the chocolate martini and Gwennie ordered some other fruity drink...C stuck to tea.  When they came, and we all sipped each others drink, I had ordered the winner.  So much so that D passed on her martini and handed it off and ordered my drink. Yeah Baby...YEAH!  We each ended up drinking down two of those and then told the waitress to not give us anymore.  We had things to do.

After lunch, we headed to the Mall.  Now, if you know me, the mall is Dizzy's version of HELL!  Dizzy is not really a shopper...unless it's the mothership called Apple.  However, we did hit Victoria's Secret and there's just something about that place that I like.  While I can't wear everything in the place, there's a lot I can and it makes me feel sexy and invincible.

After that, we headed to Fredrick's of Hollywood, which was an excellent move because we found an assortment of Bustiers and Corsets that C and I were looking for. I love hiding that kind of stuff underneath my clothes and when the moment comes...surprising my partner with a little something extra. I could go on, but I do not run a porn blog here.  I've told you before..that's my other blog.

We ended up parting ways after that, and I made a stop at BevMo...Hello...5 cent Wine Sale?  While I have a great supply of reds, I needed some light whites to round out the home supply. So I picked some up, along with a little Brie and headed home.  After doing some pick up around the house, and chilling a bottle of Jacob's Creek Moscato, I popped  open the bottle and enjoyed it with some crackers with Brie and a sprinkle of EVOO and chipotle spices. Yum!

It was while I was sipping down this bottle that I realized that I had inadvertently stepped out of the "J" cycle that I was in.  Remember?  It seemed like every guy that I kept running into started with the letter J. Granted, I'm not in a relationship or anything like that, but I had indeed broken the cycle.  I think that was MMs doing aka beyond the grave.

It was something he said when we were tossing back numerous tequila shots on the eve before Thanksgiving (his suggestion.."Are you working tomorrow?" Me..."No...tomorrow's Thanksgiving". Him...We're drinking tonight!" And Holy God...drink we did.  I outdrank him, which I'm not proud of and it made me lighten up on the tequila...poor bastard was crawling to the Aerobed by the time I was done). The weird thing was, the day he died he sent someone to me, and I remembered what he had said that night. And this person did not start with the letter "J".  Trust a bottle of wine to make me think of that!

You know how someone can get under your skin and never quite leave it?  You try like hell to erase the memory and do crazy things to help you forget, but that person just stays there "dug in like an Alabama tick" (sorry...Predator reference I couldn't pass up). Well, I have a tick that I'd been trying to dig out with a knife, but it wasn't happening. I feel like after this non "J" person that maybe I've crossed a bridge.  I'll know for sure by this summer.

Anyway...here's a couple of pics from today.

Today with Beanster, etc.

So Beanie and I woke up this morning, and she had a dream that her "Daddy" was still alive (my dream was that my BFF hired Collective Soul to perform at a block party at their house...).  We talked about it and she told me that I'm not allowed to die until 3015.  I'm not quite sure where she came up with that, but I told her that would make me over 1000 years old and that I'd probably be a pile of goo. She said she would give me a magic shot so I'd be just like I am now.  You've got to love the mind of a 10 year old.  I love this girl so much!!!

We got up and made "Make your own baked potatoes" for breakfast..don't know why she loves it so much, but as long as she puts vegetables on it...it's ok in my book.  Afterward we did a little coloring, because that's what we do....

The ex called after we ate and invited us out for brunch, but it was too late.  I told him it was ok to drop by and visit Beanie. So he did.  Unfortunately he got here about a half hour before my sister picked up my Niece, so he didn't get to see her for too long.

It's really hard sometimes being with the ex.  We're friends and we always will be, and there's love there, but I can't go back to the RollerCoaster ride. He asked if he could take me to the movies, and I deflected the question with..."Well, it would be nice if the three of us could go so you can spend more time with Beanie...I know she would love that". I don't think he appreciated the reply.  He also had that scent of alcohol and that tells me there's still a problem. I AM NOT GOING BACK!  I just can't do it. I know this whole thing hurts him. I know he wants me back. It's so hard to take compliments from him because of the underlying theme. Ugh!  Why does this have to be so hard?

And yet, it isn't saying no that's the hard part.  For me, it's over and done.  It's seeing the pain and hurt in his eyes that makes it so difficult because I don't want him to hurt.  I know there's nothing I can do, but stick to my resolve and not muddy the waters with movies with just the two of us.   Perhaps I need to tell him in detail how I've moved on...but that would hurt him too.
__________________________________________________

Ok Cat, I promised you another song if you would do an update and a pic.  Although, using an old pic isn't fair...so I'm still waiting, but I know you're good for it.  The song is Best of My Love from the Eagles...no background music...so make sure your dog is outside so the howling doesn't bother you!

The Movies

If you know me, you know I'm pretty uninhibited out in public.  I will not only break out into song, but I'll dance too.  I have no problems starting conversations with complete strangers.  I try and make my moments count.

The Beanster and I went to see the movie "Escape from Planet Earth".  It was pretty good. Lots of single dads with their kids (that was kinda sad, I thought), but no..when I'm with the Beanster, there's no such thing as a single man...or even men for the most part.  I digress...

At the end of the movie the characters break out into a dance.  The music was kickin' and the credits started to roll.  As people are leaving, I break out into the dance and I'm having fun. She says "Auntie" with the sound of exasperation in her voice.  I started laughing and said "Baby, life is too short, and you know you want to dance" and so, she got up and started dancing with me. We were jiggling, twirling and just having a good time.

As we were walking to the car, we talked about it. And I told her that all the death we've had in our lives teaches us a lesson.  That we have to live each moment of our lives to the fullest and grab at the chances life hands us to dance and sing. That there are hard moments when we won't be singing or dancing, but the people we love, who've left us, would want us to appreciate our life and truly live.

I think she got the message.  At the very least, we created a memory of the two of us dancing in the theater, and some day when I'm gone, she'll remember that we had fun!

The Beanster

Today, I picked up my beautiful niece (nicknamed Beanie or Beanster) from the celebration of life for her step-dad.  We both needed a "pick-me-up" so I asked her what she wanted for dinner, and she said seafood (that's my Beanie!). So we headed to Red Lobster, where we proceeded to chow down on all kinds of delectables.  She ordered the seafood feast which had snow crab, lobster tail, shrimp scampi and deep fried shrimp with a baked potato.  She did an excellent job of chowing most of it down.

On the way home she says "Auntie, can I tell you something that might be kinda bad?" and I said she could.  She said that she was glad that I didn't have little kids at home, so I could spoil her.  I laughed and said that it wasn't so bad.  But I reminded her of the possibility of marrying a man with children and she looked at me and said it would be ok. I told her that I thought it was God's plan.  And I do.  I think there's a reason that things turned out the way they did.  I'll go into it with more detail when I have time.

Right now, the Beanster and I are going to look for her Uncle's favorite B-Movie..."Killer Clowns from Outer Space".  You know the one...with the ray guns that spit out cotton candy?  Yup, we're going down people!!!

Today and Tomorrow's blogs will be rather short cuz the Beanster needs my attention.  You wingnuts can wait!!!  It's all love Baby!!!

Waiting for Spring

Spring...the time of renewal, of rebirth.  I need it so desperately right now.  I found out today that another friend passed away yesterday.  Not one as close as MM, but someone who believed in me.

When I worked in e-file, he was an extremely outspoken techie. He would tell it like it is and didn't mind hurting your feelings.  Mine don't hurt easily so he appreciated that. When the opportunity came for me to work on animated gifs, he knew I could do it and pushed me. I appreciated that.  Especially since it was during a time that my management didn't have faith in my abilities. He did.  I always loved him for that. When TS told me about his passing today, she said that I could get more details from someone else, but I didn't want them because I knew I'd break out crying, and we did that enough last Monday.

This evening, my BFF told me her kitty was on her way out, kidney failure, and I broke into tears.  I love her kitty.  Her kitty gives me sugar every time I'm over at their home.  We've spent some nights snuggled together.  And it makes me miss my kitty all the more.

To top it off, I didn't tell my BFF about the surgery. I didn't mean to keep it from her.  She was away for the weekend, so I knew I'd have to wait till she got back, but then, it slipped my mind.  I was helping out another friend and just got so caught up in the day to day stuff, that she found out when I posted on FB last night that the minor surgery was kicking my ass. What a horrible way for her to find out. I feel so rotten about the whole thing because if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd want to know.  It isn't something that I'd talk to my Mom, Sister or my Boy about...but I'd definitely share with my BFF.  My BFFs mean everything to me. God help me if I ever lost one of them. Especially this one.

February is turning into a major suck month, and Baby, it ain't over!  My Niece's "step-daddy's" service is tomorrow, and she'll be hurting.  Hopefully she'll be with me tomorrow night so I can wrap my arms around her and assure her that her Auntie isn't going anywhere.  The 23rd is MMs memorial and I'm not sure when KLs is.  I'm thankful February is a short month.

I'm worried that the older I get the more I'm going to see my friends pass away. I don't have answers as far as heaven, or an afterlife.  I can only hope and have faith that there is something more. I'm not afraid to die myself, I'm afraid of what I leave behind. Will my Boy, Nephew and Niece be ok? I'm afraid of losing them before I die. I've already lost one and a part of my heart is gone forever.

It's Valentine's Day and I should be thinking of the ucky love stuff, but I have such a hard time with it. I'm afraid of the moment when I have to reveal my heart and tell someone I love them. I'm afraid of being in love because you can lose it. It will stab you in the heart and trample your soul.  I'm afraid of being in the moment because it paralyzes me and turns me into a blathering idiot.  I lost love before, I walked away from it, divorced it, so why would God give me another chance at it.  And even if he did...I'd sabotage it anyway...I usually do.

Don't worry Peeps.  I'm out of sorts, on pain meds and just started sipping on cinnamon whiskey, which is probably a no-no.  Dizzy will pull up her big girl panties (ok, thong) in the morning and be strong, because her Niece needs her and there isn't anything Dizzy wouldn't do for her Niece. It'll be a new day, and before I know it, a new month.  I don't have an opportunity to do a random act of kindness right now...that always makes me feel better.

So instead I'm going to send a wish out to the universe.  There are so many things I could wish for right now, but this one is for each of you.  If you've found the love of your life, I wish for it to last forever. If you haven't, I wish for you to find it, recognize it and never let it go. Just because the fairytale isn't in my cards, doesn't necessarily mean it isn't in yours.  If you believe in it, then I wish it for you.

Feinstein's War On Women

Wow!!!  I was really taken aback by Dianne Feinstein's comment regarding women being incapable of defending themselves with "death machines".  Her comment strikes to my very core on a number of levels, but to know how deeply this really affects me, I have to tell you a story.

In my Junior year of High School, my mother and the evil AntiChrist stepfather separated and divorced.  On the day he packed up his stuff and left the house, his parting words in private to me were "Marry an older man, because you'll never be able to take care of yourself". This was just one of the many elements that fed my "man-hater" mentality. And to be honest, to this very day, I have a difficult time being fair to men. 

Now let me be clear, I'm not necessarily a feminist. While I believe that women deserve every opportunity to try, I don't believe that women can do everything a man can do. Just as I believe that men can not do everything a woman can do. Most women are not in the category of fitness and mental fortitude to take on combat roles in the military...an elite few are, and deserve the opportunity to try. If they can't do the job, they should move out of the way.  If they can, then give them the job!

Feinstein's comment leads me to believe that she thinks women are:

1. Incapable of pulling the trigger
2. Only meant to produce children
3. Need men to defend them

The interesting thing about this two-faced lying bitch is that not only does she have men defending her with guns, but she herself carries one.  So, only she is capable of using a death machine called "guns" and the rest of us women are ignorant and helpless.

There have been women throughout history that have led armies and defended their countries.  Need a history lesson Feinstein?  Visit http://ancienthistory.about.com/od/womenbiography/tp/030110WomenWarriors.htm for a taste of ancient warrior women who kicked ass and took names.  These women didn't take a back seat and wait for their men to defend them. Those who lost their men, took over the reins of their respective kingdoms and fought to defend their countries and the honor of their lost men. 

Women were designed to produce life.  Ok, I agree with that to a certain extent, but then again, so were men.  I mean, it takes a man's sperm to produce life, doesn't it? So it takes both sexes to produce.  What about women that can't carry life due to whatever circumstances? What about me? Although I could carry life, my partner couldn't produce life, so does that make me worthless? Does this mean that not only am I not capable of using a death machine...I'm not capable of producing life, so basically I'm worthless as a human being? Please clarify for me Feinstein...

Since I'm not capable of defending myself...Even though this woman has taken a combat course, qualified to carry a concealed weapon, scored the highest score in her class of 4 women and 16 men on the written law portion and the "naming the parts of a gun" test, and scored 4th highest in the class in target accuracy...I need a man to pull the trigger for me, because those bad "death machines" are beyond my abilities? 

Feinstein...you sound just like my fucking AntiChrist stepfather!  No one will EVER tell me what I am capable of..not you, not him, not anyone! These past 3 years of my life have taught me that I'm capable of so much more than I ever dreamed! That only I can limit myself on my abilities and my accomplishments.  And that assholes like you only serve to inspire and stoke the fire that burns inside of me to do more, be more, expect more than you can possibly provide me. 

Peeps...please don't get me wrong.  There's a difference of between being capable of doing things and liking someone else to do them for you. I am capable of pulling the trigger, but would love to have the right man beside me to pull the trigger for me, or with me. I am capable of jackhammering cement, but would love to have the right man jackhammering it for me, or with me.  But, if I don't have that special person in my life, then I am MORE than capable of doing it myself! I don't think that makes me a feminist...it makes me a survivalist! 

Not only that, I am more than capable of defending my niece and anyone else I love from assholes that would harm them.  I trained with my Sig .40 to do whatever is necessary to preserve my life and those that I love if anyone would try and harm them. I do not need Feinstein creating a war on women telling us that we're not capable of defending those that we love, or this country that we love!  

I live in California...the strictest gun-law state in the union.  I don't have a problem with those laws and have abided by those laws to obtain my license to carry. I am not against reasonable gun laws to ensure that honest, law-abiding, mentally secure citizens are the ones carrying those weapons. But Feinstein and many others are using this agenda to outlaw my gun.  They say that "Semi-Autos" are assault weapons and have no place in the home to make it sound like those are all bad guns.  In reality, they're targeting home defense and counting on citizens not knowing the difference. Let me clarify right now.... Semi Autos are guns which fire the round in the chamber, extract it, eject it, and load a new round in the chamber each time the trigger is pulled.  

Open your eyes and realize that your politicians are misleading you and don't want you to realize that California, while being strict on gun laws, still cannot stop criminals from using guns! They just want to stop law abiding citizens from defending themselves. They don't want you to realize that they're mixing apples with oranges and that they don't want to focus on mental health, or how to enforce the laws they already have. But I can promise you..you'll be thinking about it when an intruder breaks down your door, and threatens your children.  

Feinstein...if an intruder breaks down my door and threatens my angelic, beautiful, intelligent, awesome niece, this woman will have the capability to put that intruder in her sights, will have no problem pulling back that trigger, and will make damned sure that she takes away the life that would dare to threaten her niece.  The "death machine" in this woman's capable, life producing hands will do what it is designed to do...and can only do by a capable hand.  Because, I can ask the gun to shoot itself, but we all know that it takes a person's hand to actually pull the trigger.

BITE ME, FEINSTEIN!

Winning the Cultural War

There are times when I will use this rant site as a pulpit because it's my blog and I can do what I want...don't like it...LEAVE!

This speech by Charlton Heston is important. As a multi-racial woman, I agree 100% with what he's said. Take a read and let me know what you think.


'Winning the Cultural War'


Charlton Heston's Speech to the Harvard Law School Forum February 16, 1999

I remember my son when he was five, explaining to his kindergarten class what his father did for a living. "My Daddy," he said, "pretends to be people."

There have been quite a few of them. Prophets from the Old and New Testaments, a couple of Christian saints, generals of various nationalities and different centuries, several kings, three American presidents, a French cardinal and two geniuses, including Michelangelo.

If you want the ceiling re-painted I'll do my best. There always seem to be a lot of different fellows up here. I'm never sure which one of them gets to talk. Right now, I guess I'm the guy.

As I pondered our visit tonight it struck me: If my Creator gave me the gift to connect you with the hearts and minds of those great men, then I want to use that same gift now to re-connect you with your own sense of liberty of your own freedom of thought ... your own compass for what is right.

Dedicating the memorial at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln said of America,"We are now engaged in a great Civil War, testing whether this nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure." Those words are true again. I believe that we are again engaged in a great civil war, a cultural war that's about to hijack your birthright to think and say what resides in your heart. I fear you no longer trust the pulsing lifeblood of liberty inside you ... the stuff that made this country rise from wilderness into the miracle that it is.

Let me back up. About a year ago I became president of the National Rifle Association, which protects the right to keep and bear arms. I ran for office, I was elected, and now I serve ... I serve as a moving target for the media who've called me everything from "ridiculous" and "duped" to a "brain-injured, senile, crazy old man." I know ... I'm pretty old... but I sure as Lord ain't senile.

As I have stood in the crosshairs of those who target Second Amendment freedoms, I've realized that firearms are not the only issue. No, it's much, much bigger than that. I've come to understand that a cultural war is raging across our land, in which, with Orwellian fervor, certain acceptable thoughts and speech are mandated. For example, I marched for civil rights with Dr.King in 1963 - long before Hollywood found it fashionable. But when I told an audience last year that white pride is just as valid as black pride or red pride or anyone else's pride, they called me a racist. I've worked with brilliantly talented homosexuals all my life. But when I told an audience that gay rights should extend no further than your rights or my rights, I was called a homophobe. I served in World War II against the Axis powers. But during a speech, when I drew an analogy between singling out innocent Jews and singling out innocent gun owners, I was called an anti-Semite. Everyone I know knows I would never raise a closed fist against my country. But when I asked an audience to oppose this cultural persecution, I was compared to Timothy McVeigh.

From time to time ,friends and colleagues, they're essentially friends from Time Magazine, say how dare you speak your mind. You are using language not authorized for public consumption!" But I am not afraid. If Americans believed in political correctness, we'd still be King George's boys - subjects bound to the British crown.

In his book, "The End of Sanity," Martin Gross writes that "blatantly irrational behavior is rapidly being established as the norm in almost every area of human endeavor. There seem to be new customs, new rules, new anti-intellectual theories regularly foisted on us from every direction.Underneath, the nation is roiling. Americans know something without a name is undermining the nation, turning the mind mushy when it comes to separating truth from falsehood and right from wrong. And they don't like it."

Let me read a few examples. At Antioch college in Ohio, young men seeking intimacy with a coed must get verbal permission at each step of the process from kissing to petting to final copulation ... all clearly spelled out in a printed college directive.

In New Jersey, despite the death of several patients nationwide who had been infected by dentists who had concealed their AIDs --- the state commissioned announced that health providers who are HIV-positive need not..... need not..... tell their patients that they are infected.

At William and Mary, students tried to change the name of the school team "The Tribe" because it was supposedly insulting to local Indians, only to learn that authentic Virginia chiefs truly like the name.

In San Francisco, city fathers passed an ordinance protecting the rights of transvestites to cross-dress on the job, and for transsexuals to have separate toilet facilities while undergoing sex change surgery.

In New York City, kids who don't speak a word of Spanish have been placed in bilingual classes to learn their three R's in Spanish solely because their last names sound Hispanic.

At the University of Pennsylvania, in a state where thousands died at Gettysburg opposing slavery, the president of that college officially set up segregated dormitory space for black students. Yeah, I know ... that's out of bounds now. Dr. King said "Negroes." Jimmy Baldwin and most of us on the March said "black." But it's a no-no now.

For me, hyphenated identities are awkward ... particularly "Native-American." I'm a Native American, for God's sake. I also happen to be a blood-initiated brother of the Miniconjou Sioux. On my wife's side, my grandson is a thirteenth generation native American... with a capital letter on "American."

Finally, just last month ... David Howard, head of the Washington D.C. Office of Public Advocate, used the word "niggardly" while talking to colleagues about budgetary matters. Of course, "niggardly" means stingy or scanty. But within days Howard was forced to publicly apologize and resign. As columnist Tony Snow wrote: "David Howard got fired because some people in public employ were morons who (a) didn't know the meaning of niggardly,(b) didn't know how to use a dictionary to discover the meaning, and (c) actually demanded that he apologize for their ignorance."

What does all of this mean? It means that telling us what to think has evolved into telling us what to say, so telling us what to do can't be far behind. Before you claim to be a champion of free thought, tell me: Why did political correctness originate on America's campuses? And why do you continue to tolerate it? Why do you, who're supposed to debate ideas, surrender to their suppression? Let's be honest. Who here thinks your professors can say what they really believe? It scares me to death, and should scare you too, that the superstition of political correctness rules the halls of reason. You are the best and the rightist. You, here in the fertile cradle of American academia, here in the castle of learning on the Charles River, you are the cream. But I submit that you, and your counterparts across the land, are the most socially conformed and politically silenced generation since Concord Bridge. And as long as you validate that and abide it ... you are - by your grandfathers' standards - cowards.

Here's another example. Right now at more than one major university, Second Amendment scholars and researchers are being told to shut up about their findings or they'll lose their jobs. Why? Because their research findings would undermine big-city mayor's pending lawsuits that seek to extort hundreds of millions of dollars from firearm manufacturers. I don't care what you think about guns. But if you are not shocked at that, I am shocked at you. Who will guard the raw material of unfettered ideas, if not you?

Who will defend the core value of academia, if you supposed soldiers of free thought and expression lay down your arms and plead, "Don't shoot me." If you talk about race, it does not make you a racist. If you see distinctions between the genders, it does not make you a sexist. If you think critically about a denomination, it does not make you anti-religion.

If you accept but don't celebrate homosexuality, it does not make you a homophobe. Don't let America's universities continue to serve as incubators for this rampant epidemic of new McCarthyism.

But what can you do? How can anyone prevail against such pervasive social subjugation? The answer's been here all along. I learned it 36 years ago, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C., standing with Dr. Martin Luther King and two hundred thousand people. You simply ... disobey. Peaceably, yes. Respectfully, of course. Nonviolently, absolutely. But when told how to think or what to say or how to behave, we don't. We disobey social protocol that stifles and stigmatizes personal freedom. I learned the awesome power of disobedience from Dr. King ...who learned it from Gandhi, and Thoreau, and Jesus, and every other great man who led those in the right against those with the might.

Disobedience is in our DNA. We feel innate kinship with that disobedient spirit that tossed tea into Boston Harbor, that sent Thoreau to jail, that refused to sit in the back of the bus, that protested a war in Vietnam. In that same spirit, I am asking you to disavow cultural correctness with massive disobedience of rogue authority, social directives and onerous laws that weaken personal freedom.

But be careful ... it hurts. Disobedience demands that you put yourself at risk. Dr. King stood on lots of balconies. You must be willing to be humiliated ... to endure the modern-day equivalent of the police dogs at Montgomery and the water cannons at Selma. You must be willing to experience discomfort. I'm not complaining, but my own decades of social activism have taken their toll on me.

Let me tell you a story. A few years back I heard about a rapper named Ice-T who was selling a CD called "Cop Killer" celebrating ambushing and murdering police officers. It was being marketed by none other than Time/Warner, the biggest entertainment conglomerate in the world. Police across the country were outraged. Rightfully so-at least one had been murdered. But Time/Warner was stonewalling because the CD was a cash cow for them, and the media were tiptoeing around it because the rapper was black. I heard Time/Warner had a stockholders meeting scheduled in Beverly Hills. I owned some shares at the time, so I decided to attend. What I did there was against the advice of my family and colleagues. I asked for the floor. To a hushed room of a thousand average American stockholders, I simply read the full lyrics of "Cop Killer"- every vicious, vulgar, instructional word.

"I GOT MY 12 GAUGE SAWED OFF
I GOT MY HEADLIGHTS TURNED OFF
I'M ABOUT TO BUST SOME SHOTS OFF
I'M ABOUT TO DUST SOME COPS OFF..."

It got worse, a lot worse. I won't read the rest of it to you. But trust me, the room was a sea of shocked, frozen, blanched faces. The Time/Warner executives squirmed in their chairs and stared at their shoes. They hated me for that. Then I delivered another volley of sick lyric brimming with racist filth, where Ice-T fantasizes about sodomizing two 12-year old nieces of Al and Tipper Gore.

"SHE PUSHED HER BUTT AGAINST MY ...."

Well, I won't do to you here what I did to them. Let's just say I left the room in echoing silence. When I read the lyrics to the waiting press corps, one of them said "We can't print that."

"I know," I replied, "but Time/Warner's selling it."

Two months later, Time/Warner terminated Ice-T's contract. I'll never be offered another film by Warner's, or get a good review from Time magazine. But disobedience means you must be willing to act, not just talk. When a mugger sues his elderly victim for defending herself ... jam the switchboard of the district attorney's office. When your university is pressured to lower standards until 80% of the students graduate with honors... choke the halls of the board of regents. When an 8-year-old boy pecks a girl's cheek on the playground and gets hauled into court for sexual harassment ... march on that school and block its doorways. When someone you elected is seduced by political power and betrays you...petition them, oust them, banish them. When Time magazine's cover portrays millennium nuts as deranged, crazy Christians holding a cross as it did last month ...boycott their magazine and the products it advertises.

So that this nation may long endure, I urge you to follow in the hallowed footsteps of the great disobedience's of history that freed exiles, founded religions, defeated tyrants, and yes, in the hands of an aroused rabble in arms and a few great men, by God's grace, built this country. If Dr. King were here, I think he would agree.

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Ok, to lighten you up a bit....here's Dizzy rocking the reading glasses.  You'd think after getting my eyes lasered that I wouldn't need them, but I guess I'm getting old... I look like a freaking school marm!