mid-life crisis: milestone?

the mid-life crisis. we all talk about them--we generally associate them with a balding old man purchasing a hot red sports car and a volumtuous blonde bimbo in the passenger's seat. we also generally associate the milestones with certain ages--usually decade numbers--30, 40, 50. but i don't think it's that simple and i think the idea that we plant, either by media, averages, or just because we count in tens, is off base.

i flew passed 30 with flying colors. it wasn't good or bad or indifferent. the birthday came and went and nothing changed. but 33 was terrifying. maybe it was because of walking in on a conversation with my youngest son. my youngest was a kindergartener. he was on the phone planning to attend his very first sleepover (i prefer the term slumber party, but have finally had it drilled into me that boys have "sleepovers" and "slumber parties" are for girls...hahaha. like it really makes a big difference.)

but back on point, my youngest says to his friend on the phone, "oh no, my mommy's young."

my oldest interrupts, "mommy's not young."

"yes she is," my youngest blurted out adamantly.

"no, she's not." my oldest was firm. "mommy is this many..." and he flashes his hands three times and then another 3 fingers. "you are this many..." he flashes one hand.

my youngest watched, then looked down at the floor. he says in a disappointed voice to the phone receiver, "oh my mommy, is oooohhhld."

i turned around and went to my room. i sat there numb; something had saddened in me. the milestone clock had been ticking, and this had triggered the alarm. the next 3 or 4 months were a bit rough. i had never thought of myself as young or old. age had been just a number. it wasn't that important. now, all of the sudden, i was "old". i was quickly aware that i was the mom. not that i didn't get that already, but now it had sunk into the bone. the quick memories of what it was like at 5. when i was 5, no one was old, but i could never picture them young like i was. you just pictured the adults as instant adults. sprouting out in the size that you saw them at. even when i'd see pictures of my mother or father as kids, it all seemed very surreal. they were mommy and daddy. now, i was the sprout out as an adult, and now my youngest had the epiphany that i was not just some magical shoot out sprout mommy, but a 33 year old who must have been his age some long time passed. i don't know how shocking it was for him, but it was shocking for me.

thirty-three also came with that biological alarm clock ringing day in and day out. i had always wanted a little girl. little girl's clothing would just set me in a longing for another baby--a little girl. how come i had been deprived of a little girl? then the 3 little boys would start fighting, need a lot of my time and i was snapped back into reality. i had to be there for them and no way in hell would i want to have a 4th child to take care of. the mind (and common sense) would kick in and remind the alarm clock that we already had our boys and no way in heck did i want to have more responsibility than i already had. even if the biological clock would get smart and somehow sing a tune of how it would be different with a little girl...the mind would retort quickly what if the next would be a boy? boys aren't made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, but any idiot can tell you that 3 boys is going to be work. sometimes, quite overwhelming work. it was a no-win for the biological clock. i'd had the wherewithal to cut-off the possibility of the clock overriding common sense after my 3rd son. (in spite of my doctor telling me there was only a 2% chance that the 4th child would be a boy--2% too much, thank you.) still, the fact that the mind and the body were in conflict wasn't helping the fact that i was feeling old. a baby might have made me feel young, but i went back to feeling normal when the clock fully unwound without the added responsibility. the clock stopped, and the mind got over that fact i was no longer young--albeit unwilling to think of myself as old. it passed.

the next milestone--40--came and went. but based on previous experience, i'm not convinced that that's how it works. maybe for some of us, but i think for the majority of us, there is likely some trigger--something that winds up the alarm clock, so we feel the alarm coming as the ticking clock taps out in the back of our minds. that trigger, i believe, is as individual as each of us is. something from our late teens or early 20s that was the path we thought we were on and approximately 20 years later, are very aware that we are not on that path. i could feel my clock ticking. i was trying desperately to figure out how to avoid the alarm. i knew what was wrong, and i'd avoided it for years. however, i believe those alarms are inevitable, and at 42, i was hit right after my birthday.

it was different though. it wasn't about being old or getting old. this time it has been about accepting me. being self-reflective is just part of who i am. so it didn't seem much different than normal--except it was at a much deeper level. it wasn't so much "did i do the right (or wrong) thing?" as it became "who was i? what happened to that bright eyed young woman?" i suppose that's what the bright red sports car really is reflective of. life is a series of decisions that make us who we are. all of the sudden, i was questioning the person that had been there 20 years ago and where that person went. what was i missing? what did i leave behind? was there anything that i left behind that i wish i hadn't? for some people, it might be a little red corvette. for others, it might have been the degree they wish they had gotten. still for others, it might be questioning giving up their own aspirations for the family they raised. for me, it has been questioning how i got here, why i'm where i'm at, what i left behind in that 21 year old, and what i would and could bring back. i suspect that is how it is for all of us--the little red sports car is just a tangible of the memories that we somehow need to recapture--re-connect with who we are by re-connecting with who we were.

what i had to re-connect with is, well to be honest, too personal to share in a blog. but the idea that we have to re-connect and recognize our dreams, both past and present, and reconcile who we are and have become with who we were and who we thought we wanted to be, is likely really what the mid-life crisis is about. it's why women leave husbands of 20+ years after raising a family--they feel they've lost themselves. it's why some men run off with 20 year old strippers in a fancy little red sports car--reconnecting with who they thought they wanted to be. but it varies for all of us. my version of this moment for me, would no more help anyone else, because their moment will not be the same. the only thing we have in common is that clock and the inevitable alarm. like everything else, the crisis passes. the alarm turns off, and mid-life continues on. crisis resolved.

a confirmed bachelorette?

at Christmas time, well, at the end of the year anyway, i always become a bit reflective. this year being no different i'm reflecting on what transpired this year. my boys are another year older. i was fortunate enough to maintain a promise made to them. i've made some good friends. i finally bought another bike. i got back in touch with a lot of close friends that i have missed. (you can never have enough good people in your life.) but as always, i always reflect on my own shortcomings. perhaps, because when i was younger, it seemed like a family tradition--particularly when it came to my shortcomings.

don't get me wrong (because a couple of my friends would immediately start ranting about all the things that i'm successful at), i'm not discounting all the things that i've done right, accomplished, or any of my strengths. but let's face it, when we talk about men that have never been married or had any type of real long term relationship of any sort, well, at my age, they are generally losers--incapable of really having a good relationship. i've been single since my late 20s. really single. the longest relationship that i've had since i was 32 was a year and a half. i spent from 21 to 32 in 3 relationships, one right after the other, but after that, one real relationship for a year and a half--not even, i'm rounding up. hell, i didn't date at all for over 4 years after that. i may be incapable. i may be chosing people that are just not going to want me long term, because, well, maybe it's me.

i have to admit, that as my oldest approaches 18--next week--i've given my relationship with my ex a heavy duty, long lingering look. i used to joke that when my ex said "jump" that my response was "how high, what direction, and how much hangtime?" it wasn't a joke. it was how our relationship was, but i really loved him. i pretty much would have done anything to make him happy. i jumped through hoops, loops and wires. i thought i had married my best friend--who was cheating on me before we even got married (no, i didn't know until much, much later). i never wanted for anything. he always seemed to be in tune with what i wanted before i even knew what i wanted--only i just couldn't see staying if my ego was going to end up destroyed by the cheating. i remember me telling him that it was over. his exact words: "you can't leave me; you're pregnant." (i was 8 months with our 2nd son.) my exact words back: "i'm not leaving. you are. that's your stuff." (yes, i had actually packed his bag.) to this day, i have no idea where the strength to do that came from. but in those last few days of my marriage, i was altered--permanently.

don't get me wrong. i'm still that stupid cream puff that would do anything for the man i'm in love with. hell, i put up with a lot of crap from the guy that i dated for 7 months this year. i'm not willing to give up on something if it has a tiny glimmer of possibility. but i really have to wonder why i would date anyone that treats me with very little respect. i'm starting to think that maybe i choose these guys that are going to treat me poorly so that i don't have to end up in a long term relationship where i might end up that crushed again. oh, yes, i know i make jokes about the end of my marriage. i make jokes about the two horrible relationships that followed. i make jokes about the relationship that ended in august. (i don't know if it can be considered a relationship when i was in it, and he was in it only til he could find a bigger, better meal deal. well, we'll call it a relationship anyway...)

i've even almost fell in love again. once. years ago. it was a good relationship and i really loved doing things with him, for him, and just spending time with him. but there were complications from previous relationships that just somehow were insurmountable. i've always thought if there really is someone out there for me that it would just work, click, whatever. that relationship was close. too close. i felt that wound for a long time when it ended. longer than the relationship. i joke that guys that are in their 40s or older that have never been married or had kids always have the fish that got away story. that's my fish story--a marine who really had very little in common with me but somehow it clicked and was really good while it lasted. so i've had both. the guy that was my best friend--who cheated on me and crushed the dream that every little girl dreams. and a fish story of the one that got away. frankly, i'm not sure that my little cream puff *ss could handle another major disappointment like those.

so perhaps i'm like one of those confirmed bachelors--a complete loser unworthy of a real relationship. a confirmed bachelorette. whatever. regardless, at the end of year, i have to reflect on some deep sh*t that i've absolutely no answers for, no clue how to deal with it and maybe no desire to. a very close friend of mine, i can hear her now, would say, "you just haven't found the right one. you will." the aspects of that hope are more frightening than just saying there isn't one. perhaps my new years' resolution this year will be to give up on the whole idea entirely. it's not like i put a lot of effort into it right now anyway. giving up entirely couldn't be much less.

simple rules for the single mom (or dad)...

i am a single mom. there really are all kinds of ridiculous books out there to tell people how to be single parents. a lot written by people that have never been single parents...in fact, some are even written by people that haven't even had kids. as i'm sitting here in the doctor's office with two of mine, it occurs to me as i look at the parenting magazines that most of the stuff i've read really hasn't made my job as a single mom easier. most of it has been crap. however, over the years, i've learned a lot. maybe some funny stuff, maybe some helpful. maybe some outright stupid...

so here goes my top 10 simple rules for the single mom (or dad, for that matter):

1. you are the parent--scene, no scene. it should always more embarassing that they are misbehaving than that people might be mad at you because you told your kid to sit down, shut up and behave...

2. the most idiotic thing ever said is that single mothers have a lower success rate raising good kids. don't buy into the hype. if you doubt your ability, so will your kids. you do them no justice by accepting a sorry *ss societal excuse tailor made for you to fail your kids, and...yourself.

3. kids are nuts. who else would argue over who got the bigger half of the cookie and turn it into tearfest to gain parental sympathy for the imagined larger half? crazy makes crazy--don't let them suck you into their craziness. make them keep the half they got, threatened to take it away if they continue, and most importantly, follow through with taking it away if they make you.

4. follow through on all threatened potential punishments. if you think they're walking on you at 7, OMG, you will really hate when they stomp on you as teenagers.

5. no always means no. i know people are looking at me like i've lost my mind as my middle asks over and over and over and over and over and...you get the picture...and me saying, "no, no, no, no, no. i said NO!" but truth is like my grams said, "give them an acre, they'll take the farm." since technically they already have the farm (because we know our lives do revolve around our kids), they sure as sh*t don't need to know before the reading of the will. our lives as parents are no longer our own, but no way should they know that until they have kids of their own!! (besides, how else will you get to relish in the fact their kids are as nuts as they were?!?!)

6. make a list of chores--a checksheet. it'll disappear. you'll repost. it'll disappear. but every so often you'll be pleasantly surprised that the checksheet wasn't there and they got the place cleaned up the way it's supposed to be--well, minus the dusting...

7. get the hell away from them once a week, and i'm not talking about going to work or hiding out in your room. kids are nuts; crazy makes crazy. leave the nuthouse and do something, however small, for yourself, around other adults. a couple hours can make all the difference in the world to your sanity.

8. yelling is not optional. especially for teenagers. we've turned the world into a "don't yell at your kids, don't discipline your kids, talk to them, be their bestest friend..." and then we wonder why we have so many of them running around schools with guns. simple: we didn't make sure that they knew there were real consequences for piss poor behavior. you're not their best friend; you're the parent. you have a job to do: turn your kids into productive, decent members of society. suck it up. you can be their friend later.

9. stop buying your kids every piece of crap that they want. you don't have to make it up to them that you're working all those hours to keep a roof over their head. sometimes saying no is actually showing more love than giving in to every single whim. they're kids for crying outloud-they'll move on to the next thing tomorrow and you're just wasting your hard earned money.

10. most importantly, don't let your little monster jump up and down in the booth behind me, grab my hair with his/her greasy little hands and simply ignore it or tell them to stop without actually stopping them. i will embarass your ass. grab your kid, tell him no, apologize for the rudeness of your child, and show the kid how real adults are supposed to act. don't act like it's my fault that your kid is being a monster either, because here's a newsflash: it's YOUR fault!!!

obviously, my overall advice is always, always, always remember you are the parent. (and i do know this is so much easier said than done...) you're going to have plenty of time to relish in your successes and failures down the road. the goal is to produce decent, productive adults who know how to respect themselves and others--anything more is gravy; anything less should be unacceptable. good luck...

brett farve and the side line reporter...

really? this story has gone on and on for the entire season. so i'm sitting there doing something that required me to not channel check at that moment, and on comes some blurbage of the stupid story (ok, not blurbage, more like droning on crap for 10 minutes...). i really haven't paid any attention at all. when it started in pre-season, she just struck me wrong. not sure why, but she did. and of course, i'm not a brett farve fan anymore since he crapped on the hometown team, the green bay packers (see a previous blog from last season). so truly not interested. until forced to listen basically by a moment of can't get to the damn remote...

so, here's point 1. brett farve is married. almost every woman on the planet knows that considering that he was listed in the top 10 bachelors for years by almost every chick magazine on the planet. yes, we could probably go over what i think of him sending naked pics of himself to this sideline reporter. i don't really doubt it, but it doesn't really seem relevant. (bare with me. there's a reason that i just think it's not relevant.)

point 2. all of the texts that have been turned over were in 2008. 2008!!!! so, ummm, this does actually bring up an obvious point of contention with me. why did this little sideline reporter who's posed for maxim magazine wait until this past summer to "break" her story??? (let's come back to this one, shall we?)

point 3. why are some of his texts telling her that he's going to be late? or coming over? or sounding more like he has something more than just a sexual perv sending rude texts and rude pics to her? i mean she's making it sound like it was sexual harassment.

point 4. all the texts were from his phone, but the naked pics weren't. hmmm. i'm confused. if he's sending naked pics, why send texts from one phone and naked pics from another? how does that work? text from phone a: 'check out my *stuff*' and followed by pic message from phone b...can't brett afford a pic message capable phone? did he inadvertantly drop his phone while getting stripped down and pick up someone else's phone to take the picture? who owns that other phone?

point 5. the other phone's owner is not identified. in fact, one comment lead the listener to believe it was a throw-away phone, based on the comment from her in some interview that brett didn't want his wife to know about the messages was probably why. umm, ok, so he's deleting the text messages, but not the pic messages? (cuz you know i'm not buying that brett farve cannot afford a pic capable cell phone in 2008...)

point 5. the little sideline reporter had her 15 minutes of fame with the maxim spread. she probably thought that would increase her popularity and lead to bigger and better things. she looks like that type (as i stated earlier, she just struck me wrong). so, well, it did likely lead to bigger, better things. ah, yes....wait for it, wait for it, wait for it....

i think this little bimbo was tired of being a sideline sidebar during football games. she did the maxim spread in hopes of boosting her male following and increasing her overall chances of a better job. it did definately catch the attention of a lot of men at the time, i was sure of it as they flashed the pics from the spread on tv. but like every shallow bimbo finds out, it swings her some attention, but the whole package has to be there to keep the attention. she's got the looks, but no meat and potatoes behind it. she's no danika patrick. she's a pretty face, maybe fairly smart, but when it comes right down to it, she lacks the long term umpf. (don't ask me what umpf is...i only know it's like that magic beanstalk bean that you only know it when you see it grow into a beanstalk...)

so the assessment of the points above: bimbo had an affair with brett farve. let's face the facts as presented: he's married, another tiger woods...do we really think the pompous jerk that has reared his ugly head as far as how he views his obligations to the packers wouldn't cheat? lmao, of course we think he would cheat. she's screwing a married man. she thinks she's hot sh*t. and most importantly, she thinks she has the world by the perverbial b*lls. until she realizes her career isn't flourishing from her maxim spread, her married boyfriend won't leave his wife, and now she's turning into psycho whore--smart-ish psycho whore, but psycho whore, nonetheless. she saved all those text messages (that in itself lends creedance to psycho) because she wanted to make sure that she could embarrass her married lover when it suited her. but 2008?!?! really honey? no, she didn't complain about sexual harassment in 2008 because it was mutual. but now, she doesn't want to sound like the ground grubbing whore screwing a married man, but she wants to regain media attention--boost her career. afterall, negative attention is still attention, isn't it? ummm, yea, somehow no matter how we slice that or dice it, she sounds like a ground grubbing skeezer sleezer looking for her meal ticket. oh, and add bonus points that she was able to embarrass that jerk that wouldn't leave his wife for her and bonus super b*tch points for hurting his wife, because afterall, his wife hasn't left him so she could have him--yet.

i'm not fond of womanizers, per previous blog, but i'm equally not fond of money grubbing, sleezes and whores that try to use sob stories to get men (and even other women) to protect them from the big bad mess that they made for themselves. her story reeks holes, because she left out the points that would make her sound bad, because the good news is even whores know they're whores. so, yea, honey, instead of 15 minutes, you got 30. good for you. channel check.

the rules have changed, but the end game is still the same...

Dating has changed. Ask anyone--male or female. It's changed drastically. There are a slew of reasons for the changes—internet, less personal, a more open attitude towards sex in general. The game, though, is still a dance around a mulberry bush. The problem I hear from almost all 35+ women is the same too: men don’t want women, they want whores, sluts, they want drama…Well, no, they don’t. Men haven’t changed at all. They are still the same men, but they by their own actions have turned the “game” upside down. Inadvertently, the rules of the game have changed—drastically, and not for the better.

I hear a lot from my guy friends (as we all know, for some reason I have a slew of them—which we could blame on my chosen profession, my obsession with football and hockey, or just plain dumb luck…all for another blog) that women are demanding at “our age”—late 30s to late 40s. That’s not a surprise. Women are demanding at any age for different reasons. We just tend to be more complicated regardless of our morals, professions, family background. That’s nature. Younger women are less demanding, I sometimes hear—ha, no, they’re not. They have visions of Prince Charming, the white picket fence, the Knight in shining armor, the perfect wedding, the perfect family. When I listen to the teenage girls that date my sons, I know this is still true. Nothing has changed there. But, we are more likely to view men with rose colored glasses—overlook flaws (and yes, fellas are flawed regardless of age…we all are; we are human). We are also more naive in our teens and 20s. By our early 30s, we women begin to figure ourselves out. We begin to realize what we will or won’t put up with, but at the same time, we wish we could go back to where we thought the perfect relationship existed. There are even some of us that even may have gotten lucky and found it, but we all know this is so far and few in between—especially by our late 30s. We all know happily married couples, but honestly most can’t say they know many. From my guy friends that I have frank conversations with, I estimate that a lot of men are equally frustrated that there are so few happy marriages out there. The perfect girl or guy becomes more of a fantasy than a possible reality. Add that in our 30s, a large majority of us are divorced or have had several friends that have gotten divorced, we start to feel disillusioned. By our 40s, many women, and men for that matter, begin to, if not just completely, give up. We say it knowing at that moment we mean it. The more often we experience disappointment, the more likely we believe it down to our core. Life is easier without. Each time, the longer time that we take for recovery and the deeper the acceptance is. By our 50s, from what I’ve observed and listened to my friends that are in (or passed) their 50s, they don’t want to bother. Good women, wonderful, sweet, and with a lot to offer still, don’t want to bother anymore. They don’t want to get married, they don’t want to live with someone, they don’t want to have to answer to anyone, they don’t want to be bothered. More importantly, somewhere in those early 50s, they no longer care if they have a man to grow old with. They don’t want to take care of some old man…

So why? That unfortunately seems to be a side effect of the new rules as defined by womanizers in the 90s and earlier this past decade. Remember Mystery? Tucker Max? A slew of other womanizers that wrote books, did television shows, taught classes on “How to get women”. I do. I thought they were hysterical—although most of my female friends thought that they were utterly obnoxious. It was indicative though that men still didn’t understand women. Men, especially the bruised and battered ones, ate it up like potato chips. The problem that really stems from these womanizers is that they had no respect for women, and that is really what they were teaching in their methods, their tactics, their sorted stories of conquest. Yes, Tucker Max is hysterical (if you don’t know him, read I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell [no abilty to underline in friggin' bloggin']). Ok, I might be a really rare woman to find him amusing, but he’s honest. He says over and over that he doesn’t have a healthy view of women. He also says on occasion that he knows women (generally the ones happily married to his friends) that shouldn’t be treated the way he treats them. Mystery and the rest though were of the opinion that all women should be treated like crap. Mystery used to say during his show, “Treat the whores like ladies and the ladies like whores.” But these idiots had no idea why that worked. Completely clueless. They advised men to “divide and conquer”, hit on the one friend, then split her from her friend, focusing on her friend, and throwing miniatures insults on the one that they actually wanted. They advised things that often work for the womanizer, but why they work for one of them isn’t why it would work for the average guy. They didn’t know anything about women, just how to manipulate them for a night. More importantly, they put it out there that if you can’t manipulate the one you want, move on quickly to the next one. They never considered the impact of turning good men into jerks. They advised things that work perhaps in the short term, but give women unrealistic expectations and make them bitter.

What did they forget to tell men? Women are complicated creatures that they don’t know how to talk to except when chemically impaired (drunk, drugged, etc.), whores or too young to recognize a shallow play. That by our 30s, most women have fallen prey to at least one womanizer, that all of us have several friends that have been preyed on, and that we can pick them out in a crowd. We love to let them buy us drinks and toy with them. By our 40s, their conversation is so shallow, so direct and so easily picked out as phony that a large majority of women won’t give them 60 seconds of their time, let alone an evening.

Manipulating a woman for an entire evening is a LOT of work. Manipulating anyone for hours is a LOT of work. All that work means that you have to pay attention, and in all honesty, most men don’t have that long of an attention span. Women love to talk and we love to think we’re being listened to. If a guy isn’t interested in a woman, why would he listen? According to these guys, for the conquest, of course. While this advice all sounds good, the flashback is that women expect men to be more complex, listening, thoughtful creatures. I have a friend that always says she wants a man that listens to her. We all do, but women now believe that normal, non-womanizing types should really be listening to every word. Really? Come on. No guy, by nature, is hanging on every little word a woman says. Most of us know to get your point across to a man—simple, 2 or 3 sentences max is the way to go—and yet many, if not most, somehow think men are listening and should be. Why? Because womanizers do actually listen to us, while they are still dreaming of the conquest. The average joe isn’t. It’s a lot of work, and most men would rather focus on the visual, the meat and potatoes, not the vocabulary. Don’t get me wrong here…men can, once they get attached to someone, hang on that woman’s every word on occasion, but the belief that men do it as the norm, well, that's the end result of 20 years of men taking relationship advice from womanizers.

Divide and conquer? Well, women in our 20s are leery of a lot of our closest friends. It’s not hard to convince two 22 year olds to feel diminished by paying attention to another woman. They will often put forth more effort to get the man’s attention—partially because of our own insecurities and partially because we’ve been hurt deeper by other women than we’ve ever been hurt by any guy. We give other women more trust quicker and other women are listening to our deepest fears, desires, and what’s making us tick. When women cut each other up, it’s at a very emotional level. It’s often hard for their friendships to recover. Men just don’t have this. They don’t attack emotionally. It’s cut and dry—two sentences. A week later, no big deal. Women can turn on each other in a weak moment, take every advantage of what they’ve confided in each other, and voila! Decades of animosity. In our 20s, it’s likely the other woman standing there has been friends with us for less than 5 years. But do the math, in our 40s, she’s likely someone we’ve known at least a decade. Divide and conquer will not work with 2 women that have seen each other through marriage, child-rearing, family tragedies, divorce and recovery. No, instead, by our late 30s, women will turn around and chew the womanizer up and spit him out. Turning him into a punchline to the story that they will laugh about until the next time they’re out and approached by a bozo. The womanizer shakes it off, moves on to the next target—the numbers game—his ego is so shallow it just doesn’t have any effect. However, the average man will not know how to take it; he assumes the women are being bitches. Well, yes, in fact they are. They don’t like womanizers, they know that game, and the man has identified himself as one. Womanizers don’t care about a woman’s feelings, and the women, especially 40-somethingers, aren’t going to give a dickens about a womanizer’s feelings. The end result, the women seem bitter to the average guy, when in actuality, they just don’t want to deal with another womanizer.

Finally, my personal favorite piece of advice, and one that all womanizers I’ve ever met go with: “Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore.” LMAO…ok. They tell guys this, and I remember watching the one guy’s show and him saying this was THE fundamental rule. But, the funniest part to me was that he really had no clue why it works. He gave his reasoning—competition; women will eat it up. But women are not “competitive” by nature, so to speak. There’ve been plenty of studies saying that women are more nurturing whether because of social norming or nature. “Competitive” is a natural or social norming of men. It has nothing to do with why this works. It works with whores, well, because a whore is always a whore. She’s going home with someone no matter what. Being nice to her will improve the chances that she will go home with you. Buying her drinks improves your odds too. However, a whore is always looking for the latest womanizer that she’s attached herself to. He will instantly take precedence over you and you’ll have just paid for his guaranteed piece. How am I so sure of this? Because whores are still like every other woman—we all have a focus if we are involved with someone. The difference though is that whores always have a focus. Always--because they are always going home with someone. Womanizers don’t mind being their focus. They love to play one against the other and whores are sufficient to feed their own egos. Womanizers in their 40s, always have 2 or 3 whores, and even better, they love to snap their fingers and pull their whores out of the average guy’s reach after the average guy has spent a small fortune on her.

But that’s only half of their equation. “…treat…a lady like a whore.” Why do they think it works? One womanizer said in an interview once, “ladies always bow to a man if treated like crap long enough.” That’s not it. When we observe a man treating a whore like a lady, even if the guy reeks womanizer, most women will assume that he’s a nice guy. Why?? Well, we assume only a gentleman would treat a whore with respect. Yes, that’s what we think. In our 20s, it takes us longer to convince ourselves that we were wrong when the womanizer starts treating us like crap. In our 30s, we are acutely aware that we might be putting up with more than we want to and will work up to walking away. In our 40s, now we are bitchy about it. We no longer view it as our “fault”. If we misjudged a player, we are not near as angry at him as we are ourselves, but regardless of age, we will almost all direct it at the womanizer. Treating a good woman disrespectfully will piss her off, it will make her bitter, and that is a fact. Men taking this advice are simply pouring gunpowder in the keg with the fuse already lit. The more a woman gets treated disrespectfully, the more ire that will come out when she’s finally had enough. The result is women are less likely to put up with men and their quirks (better known as crap where womanizers are concerned). They are more likely to demasculinate a man who disrespects them; bringing those years and years of emotional warfare experience from being pit against other women to the devastation of men’s egos. Remember women go for the jugular if they feel used.

Now, the weirdest part of all this is the end effect. Women in their 50s. The women I know that have put up with this dating game as it has changed, by their 50s, don’t see the point. Men and women are so drastically different. When women are younger, we want the “happily ever after”. Men, on the other hand, seem to become acutely aware of their age in their 50s--growing old alone. Older women don’t see it as growing old alone. That ship sails permanently in our 40s somewhere. I have no idea where. I just know that as I’ve reached my 40s, observed my friends that are older and listened to the ones in their 50s or older, we just don’t care anymore about having someone. A major difference in women, that the womanizers have right, whores will still be whores and if you were nice to them in the past, you can still get tail. So can every other guy and ironically that thought nauseates most men. A big joke, and a terrifying one at that. But ladies, the good women, have settled in with themselves and their surroundings, and they see no reason to add you if you weren’t there before. (Older women seem more open to other women too…but, as always, that is a totally different blog.) I honestly have started to feel or think this. I remember someone telling me that by 50 I won’t care if I have a man or not—leaning towards not. That was about 5 years ago. I couldn’t imagine. I wanted to have someone to play with and go see all the cool things that I’ve put off. Now, I’m thinking I could go see those things with my friends and have way more fun. Five years ago, I just kept hoping the women telling me that were wrong. Now, at 42, I’m absolutely sure they are right. I still wish I could find someone to do those wonderful things with. However, I’ve also reached a point where I don’t want to have to Photoshop the picture of me on the Great Wall of China, because I’m not dating that guy so-n-so anymore. I have quite a few cool memories that the pictures are nowhere to be seen. I really do not need another picture that I slide in a drawer because that guy wasn’t the right one. More importantly, I’m starting to feel comfortable with the idea of not going with that guy at all, whoever he might have been.

The rules have changed, but the end game is still the same… Women outlive men, and therefore, somewhere to our 50s, women become comfortable with dying without the husband--with our children, grandchildren, friends that are outliving us, and perhaps great-grandchildren around us. It's basic biology, and it's really no different than the biological clock that goes off in our early 30s because bearing children after 35 is riskier. Likewise, biology likely prepares women mentally for the death of men--some biological trigger to ensure that the woman is prepared to stand on her own. Men, on the other hand, could depend on the woman they took care of to take care of them in their moment of need. Most men don't like the idea of dying alone. Yet, with the new rules, the womanizers' rules, that may be what a lot of men are left with--a lonely end with nothing but a bunch of carvings in a bed post.

strong book cover...

there's not many people that meet me that know me at all. book cover. i appear to be a career minded, strong willed, single mother of 3 boys. i am. the career pays the bills, keeps my mind blooming, and gives me an opportunity to interact with some wonderful people. i'm a single mother--there's been no changing that. i've actually met women that have walked away from the responsibility of motherhood, both on purpose and some by force because of stupid decisions (this being debatable whether it's a choice or on purpose, but as always, another blog). it's the strong-willed part that gives me pause.

i certainly was raised to stand up for myself. God knows that some of the things that i experienced as a child required me to learn to stand up for myself. (this in no means is to insinuate that i've endured more or less than anyone. i know people that i would not ever state their experience was better than mine...) i simply had no one to stand up for me as a mother would. the facts are not in question and certainly not for discussion in this blog. it's just a fact, and the reason that my "strong-willed" side required me to be the parent, the mother, to my boys that i had been untimely deprived of. i've not always stood up for them if i thought they were wrong--i don't believe that's what a mother would do. but by the by, i've always been here for them. this is not an easy job for anyone, regardless of numbers or sex of the children. but the numbers do add up sometimes, and 3 against one does require the ability to stand up and get them to back down. to be honest, i've amazed myself over the years. when people tell me how great they are, well, i may joke that they must've locked them in the closet, but truth be told, i worked very hard to make them the young gentlemen they are and are becoming. that "stong-will" has gotten me through this and made me relatively successful with them too.

but people, just assume that strong-will is who i am. admittedly, it is a part. a part that normally was just a small piece of me. when i was younger, i never really cared what, where, when, why. i became quite pleased just to follow people around if given the choice. really. if my friends wanted to go here or there, i didn't care and saw no reason to make an argument over where we were going if i didn't care. some friends got frustrated because i never had an input. the majority didn't notice. when i dated someone, i didn't care what we did either. i was perfectly content probably 80 to 85% of the time to just do whatever. every so often, i would want to do this or that, but again, if i didn't care what we did or didn't do--why make a do over what, where, when or why. i've gotten to experience a lot of things simply because i've never minded doing something that i may or may not have chosen to do on my own. on the other hand, it always seemed to shock someone if all the sudden i spoke up and wanted to do this or that. my ex was perfectly thrilled that most of the time i just followed him around like a puppy dog. everything made me happy, and those things that i didn't like, well, the next time i would either opt out or say no thanks.

on the other hand, i was/am a wackadoo magnet. honestly, i used to be a magnet for everything--wackadoos were not the majority. my grams used to joke i'd bring home every single stray that needed to be taken care of--my favorite, most beloved dog had been abandoned on the side of the road. it didn't take a strong-will to want to baby a stray puppy or hurt bird or baby bunny. however, a few years back, it was pointed out to me that it was likely not helping me with the wackadoos if i kept being such a bleeding heart. it was opening me up to a lot of stuff that i really didn't have the energy to deal with. there was no arguing that point. the sooner that i've walked away from those types, the better off i've been. but the "strong-will" to walk away from those types was developed over time. i am still proud of the fact that none of my friends fall into stereotypes, certain financial means, or even certain lifestyles. i have friends of all types, sizes and shapes (ha, ok, joke), but i do have a large variation compared to most. for all the wackadoos that i've had to suffer through, i've made more friends of different fabric than anyone else i know. the strong-will has never included judging a book by its cover. i always have taken "judge not less ye be judged yourself" very seriously, so knowing it's time to walk away from nuts--well, that's actually taken practice.

where men are concerned, well, that's just simple, and yet for some reason, so counter-intuitive to my book cover. i told an ex-boyfriend, "you lead, i'll follow." it's that easy. when he asked what if i really want something or don't, my response was simple too, "when that happens, i'll say something." the only disagreements that he and i had were always over women that he was supposedly not dating, which eventually he admitted to that being the problem...(not while we were dating, later down the road, which would've gone over much differently if he had admitted it then, but again, another blog)...but if he wanted to do this, that or the other, i didn't care. if he wanted to hang with his buddies, i didn't care. we all need space to do things that we love to do. honestly, i never asked him for anything in over 7 months, but the one time that i did do something with some expectation, well, suffice to say it didn't go over well. although honestly, i can't see how it was that bad. even when i do "want" something, i will dress it up like a little girl asking for a new toy--with sugar and spice and everything nice. my "strong-will" in a relationship is pretty much limited to anything that pushes my limits, and i don't have many limits to what i'll try. i've eaten escargot (ugh, never again), i've sky-dived, and i've seen ripley's believe it or not (i'll even admit watching someone try and touch their nose with their tongue through a two-way mirror was entertaining). all things that i personally never would've tried, but the experiences aren't something that i'd take back. the guys that i've dated seriously (and the ex) couldn't honestly say that i ever demanded anything--probably the exact opposite. it's not that important to me to have the lead...it's just important that i can trust the person that i'm following. there's where any man will see my strong-will kick in, as my most recent ex-boyfriend would easily attest to.

strong-will is relative with me. no one is so black and white that every aspect of their personality is the primary aspect of their personality. my "strong-will" is such a limited aspect of who i am, and yet, i'm saddened by the fact that anyone would assume it defines me. on the other hand, i'm proud that it allowed me to provide for my boys, and myself, so well. it's an aspect that kept me going and trying even when the world was topsy-turvy and some would've given up. if it is the only aspect of me that someone chooses to see, then i suppose there are worse aspects of my personality that they could focus on...

crazy sh*t recap...ok, just the highlights...

my closest friends joke that i'm a wackadoo magnet. i mean i have a guy friend that seems to attract the "marry me this minute" women. i have a super smart, fantastic female friend that always attracts the "no job, living in his car, living with mama, looking for a sugar mama" men. but me, nope, if there are 50 crazy men in a room of 100, i will attract the 10 craziest of the 50.

this most recent one is sad. if you read his texts to me, you would swear that he and i are having a robust conversation and that we are dating pretty seriously. but honestly, i wasn't paying attention to most of them. i figured if i ignored him, well, he'd go away. besides, i had added a new guy to my facebook, and all of the sudden i got a phone call asking about the guy--well, frankly, that was my focus. i was so miffed about the phone call that it didn't occur to me that this texting guy might have orchestrated the whole thing--sadly, i probably should've if i had actually been reading the texts he was sending me for almost 2 and a half hours following the phone call. but well, when i meet someone that seems "normal" (there's not really anyone that's "normal") and possibly worth the effort (and risk) of actually getting to know better, the idea that i might have misjudged the one i just met really had me upset, with myself mainly. (those of you that know me, know that i can over-analyze anything--particularly if i think i made a mistake.) so it didn't occur to me that this weirdo's texts were grossly inappropriate and making it sound like he and i were in some fairly serious quick-moving practically committed relationship...and the scariest part is it was only one date--the weekend before halloween--the rest of the last 6 weeks have been nothing, zero, zilch, nada, zippadeedooda---ok, other than his sometimes extremely inappropriate texts...geez...

but let's face it; he's not the only one...let's just go through the highlights of why i don't date, shall we?

1. 3, yes, 3, old 55+ men have claimed they're dating me when they haven't ever held my hand, kissed (on a cheek or hand or anything) or even gone on a "date" with me...seriously, how warped is it to claim to date someone seriously when they've never been out on a date with each other? this wouldn't be noteworthy, except for the fact 3, not 1, not 2, three men have done this.

2. the guy that wanted me to do him with a strap-on. no further explanation needed--although probably noteworthy to include the fact that he asked me over dinner in a restaurant...

3. the guy who slashed my tires after a first date because i wouldn't go home with him--really?!?! i'm pretty sure that i don't come off like the type that would go home with someone on the first date anyway...

4. the crazy woman that called me after i went on several dates with a single dad who had custody of his daughter because the mother was an off-on again drug addict, in and out of jail. she called me screaming that as this guy's new girlfriend (like 4 or 5 dates) i was interfering with her getting back together with him (almost 8 years had gone by since he had taken custody). one of my best friends was with me at the time, so i put the nut on speaker phone and told her i was well aware of her history and her dozen or so arrests...her exact words: "shows what you know!!! i've been in and out of jail way more than that!!!" my friend was laughing so hard she almost pee'd herself. (also, good note to self: this sh*t apparently is way funnier when it's happening to someone else...)

5. the guy who i gave the "let's be friends" speech to, who apparently thought that meant "let's be friends and i'll change my mind"...when after a couple of weeks that wasn't working out, he created online profile of me, propositioned men, gave them my phone number and address and invited them over. just what every woman's dream man would do: make her have to spend the next couple of weeks giving statements to police, the fbi and yahoo--not to mention re-do her shooting qualifications...

6. an abusive ex-boyfriend who tried to kill me...

7. an ex-husband who took me back to court for 10 years every year for my birthday...that finally quit when the judge leaped all over him and told him i was entitled to a serious increase in child support. i asked the judge to explain to him that as long as he never dragged me back into court, the peace and quiet would be well worth money i've never seen. it's been very peaceful for the last 4 years...

8. an ex who forgot to mention that he had klan in his friends and family before convincing me to move. something you might want to tell me considering i'm half asian!!!!

although these are definately not in order of heinousness, i think we will chalk this one up to #9....agreed?

gets old...

honestly, i don't know what to think of some people. since i live in the world where you do what you say, say what you mean, and my word is my bond, i don't get how some people not only don't keep their word, but in fact seem completely shocked if someone doesn't just let their transgressions slide.

some transgressions, granted are smaller than others, and should be easier to let go down the foxhole. for example, a guy that doesn't follow through with plans is much easier to "forgive" than a backstabber that was pretending to be a friend. recently i was reminded how irritating a backstabber is. this woman went on and on about how everyone that she and a guy she works with would've been good together..."everyone" that they work with thought so. umm, fishy part was she was trying to be my friend and i was kinda seeing the guy in the background noise without wanting a bunch of people in my business. (i really don't like people in my business.) so she was all of the sudden wanting to be my friend, almost immediately after i went out a couple of times with this guy. i kinda suspected that he might have asked her about me, but i let that slide. in the meantime, she's telling me how i should date this mid-50-ish guy that they all know, and how everyone they work with thought she and the guy i'm dating should be dating, and best of all, how she's not dating a guy who claims she's his girlfriend, who she gets pissed if he doesn't pay for her drinks at the bar and who takes her on weekend trips where they share a king size hotel room....ummm, ok. but, me being who i am, i decided that i would give her the benefit of the doubt. perhaps she's just an honest, upfront person similar to myself and perhaps, none of this has some more grotesque underlying nasty manipulative motive...perhaps. i stick it out for a month--red flag, after red flag, after red flag...still after other red flags. other acquaintances accusing her of being a drug addict. never saw it myself, so again, benefit of the doubt. still others saying they wouldn't trust her as far as they could pick her up, or how she's using that boyfriend of hers--leading him on, or even some going so far as to call her names. whatever. i'll decide for myself.

in the meantime, as i stated, red flag, red flag...still i had no proof. the guy was all interested in me the first week, then seemed genuinely interested the second--but diminished a little maybe, then still seemingly interested but not following through with plans--once...twice...a third time....she tells me once she's gotten me to admit that i'm dating him that she wouldn't put up with that crap. even though he's her friend, and everyone thinks that he and she should be dating. still wondering what idiots she's talking about--this guy is a professional, clean cut, sweet, and she's a wild ass to the umpteenth degree--let alone the whole "don't poop where you eat, don't date where you work"...there's nothing that would make a normal person think that this would ever happen. it would be like picturing me dating a super nerd with no personality who barely ventured out of the house--like mixing chocolate with poop, might have the same coloring, but smell, taste, presentation, audiance, comfort zones: completely different. anyway, if she were me, she'd drop him like a hot potato.

well, fourth time, and yes, hot potato. granted 2x the guy had good excuses, but he made no effort, none, to make it up to me in any way, shape or form. i'm difficult to upset (obviously if i'm letting him blow me off 4x and twice without any excuse) and i'm not demanding in any way. (really starting to think that i should be--seems like most guys prefer "slutty" or "demanding bitch"--since "slutty" is out, perhaps i should start giving "demanding bitch" more consideration...) so yes, i go with her advice. not really though, two of my real friends were giving the same advice without the how everyone thought they should be dating him routine in the same sentences. still as i stated, i gave this b*tch the benefit of the doubt.

she asked the next time i spoke with her and i told her that i had decided to "take her advice" and stop seeing him. bam!!! she quits calling me, she quits answering my phone calls, she quits everything--well, except bitching on my facebook about pics that have been up for over a month. she had manipulated me--although i suppose i let her, since as i said to friends all through that 4 weeks, red flag, red flag, red flag...we knew, i knew. but, i was giving her the benefit of the doubt. i also know now based on his response to some questions i asked him that she was likely playing both sides of the fence. not sure how long, from the beginning of the 4 weeks or not. don't care.

i suppose she thinks i'm a b*tch because i deleted her from my facebook friends. well, i only keep real friends on there. if you're not, you don't get included or you get dumped. like my grams used to say "fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me." screw her. she tried to buddy up to me the first time i saw her after i deleted her while i was with real friends. ha! as if. i was polite, but basically ignored her. she flung her chair as she left. wah. tough twinkies. she might even be mad that i dumped her but not the guy off my facebook. why should i? he didn't stab me in the back. he might not be my type if he's that easily dupped, or he might not be my type because he has a lack of follow through, or he just might not be my type because he doesn't make it priority to treat someone right. but he didn't stab me in the back. trying to manipulate me and then completely ignoring me once he'd achieved his goal. no, b*tch, you did that.

she went on and on about how she had no female friends that she trusted. umm, that's a two-way street honey. if you want trust--both trust given and able to give, well, then you don't manipulate a potential friend. especially not for a guy, who you claim you thought/think is a pompous jerk--probably because he wasn't interested in you, who is now friends with your boyfriend and his friends. a decent guy wouldn't touch another guy's woman ever anyway. that horse rode off as soon as she introduced them--at least if he's half the guy that i've observed. the fact that i didn't throw the b.s. flag immediately probably shocked her, but those that know me, know i'm pretty patient with people. to a point. but the truth is she doesn't have any female friends, because she brings it on herself. again, tough twinkies.

as for the guy, well, i've had enough drama in my life to last a lifetime. if he's really that gulliable, that's not the type of man i want anyway. nice friend--perhaps, a good friend. if he's not that gulliable, well, then, perhaps, he's like me. enough with the drama already. but so far, i've always kept my word. like someone i have a lot of respect for told me recently, if you are a certain way, you don't change that just because of someone around you trying to make you act different. you might over-react or under-react, but it'll still be basically how you'd handle a situation. his word should've been his bond regardless, and if he broke his word, then in my world, he should've made up for it. i'm thinking that a lot of people forget that who they are isn't worth much if they can't keep their word anymore. but i'm pretty sure this is why when i find people that do, i form lifelong friendships with them. good people are far rarer than i would like, but when you find them, cherish them like you'll never have another chance to find another. after a while, you find that you have a lot more around you than you imagined possible.

BCS Bleeding Hearts?

First, anyone that knows me knows that I’m a huge football fan, but like all football fans, I’m fickle. I watch more often when my team is winning than when they aren’t. I watch more football period when my team is winning. I try to avoid contact with it in general when my team is losing, especially if my least favorite team in the world is winning.

Of course, every Monday morning during football season, I have to torture myself with the BCS rankings. I read the who’s who of college football with trepidation and sometimes wanton disgust as a team here or there moves up or down in the rankings. I’m a die-hard Wolverines fan, and as we all know, Michigan has taken a beating this year (ok, not just this year). I can’t deny that it’s almost embarrassing, but as a die-hard fan, I will still don my Henne jersey (as our current QB has not earned my purchasing his jersey) in three weeks over Thanksgiving weekend. I will still likely cry wolf at every crappy call that goes against my Wolverines and I will definitely boo and hiss for every call that is in favor of the poisonous nuts. I may even be blessed, as every Wolverine fan hopes, as the Blue & Maize deny those horrible Scarlet & Grey types of a win. (Ok, I can dream damn it!!!)

There are of course other teams that I am almost as dedicated to. I love my alma mater—the Clemson Tigers. I really believed that Tommy Bowden could bring it back to Death Valley—at times, he even looked like he might. But the days of Danny Ford are long gone, and as long as IPTAY keeps trying to rekindle that (as any university’s boosters do), we will continue to lose. The head coach should be the head coach—you can always tell when the boosters get “too” involved. (Ah, but that is not what this blog is about.) I’m equally fond the Florida Gators. GO GATORS. They rarely let me down—this year, however, they also have fallen out of grace with the BCS. This leaves me with little to get excited about on Monday morning.

I’ll admit I’m content to be excited by Mizzou this year. The Tigers (my alma mater’s cousins as far as I’m concerned) did wonderful justice by breaking the Top Ten last week. With the loss this weekend, they fell from 6 to 12 in the BCS. It’s heartbreaking. Equally State (Michigan State for you non-Gander types) took a loss and a hit in the BCS from 5th to 14th. (Yes, I realize some states the big rivalry is between the two internal schools—for example, Oklahoma vs. Oklahoma State…but we Michiganders prefer to believe of State as family—even when we play against them.) I’m pleased to see LSU hanging in the Top Ten (again, Tigers are cousins to my precious Clemson), and of course, thrilled to see Auburn hanging on in the Top 2. GO TIGERS!!! Of course, I’m not disappointed that the Ducks took #1 this week—hell, who doesn’t LOVE an underdog!?!?!?!

But here’s where I get lost: Why do the different polls run amok? Most of the time, we see the BCS, Harris and Coaches’ polls relatively the same. Oregon and Auburn are first and second. The computers agree. The computers go strictly off of difficulty of the season, points scored and wins. Now we all know that isn’t always the most accurate sh*t. It completely skips heart and soul—that which takes the players’, coaches’, and fans’ breath away, but this morning, as often happens, I think maybe that’s a good thing. Why? First, Bama. I love Bama. I have no idea why. There are a handful of teams like this for me: Bama, UNC, UCLA, Mizzou. I just like them for no reason other than I like them. But why in the hell is Bama still in the Top 10? They don’t have as hard of a schedule as they normally do. They haven’t been mopping up the field either with these smaller, unranked schools that they should be dominating, and the computers know it: 15th. But the BCS, the Harris, and the Coaches’ polls are all ranking them in the Top 10. The BCS, which does take into account computer ranking, has them at 6th, but the human only both have them at 5th. Why? Well, because we love Roll Tide, the Crimson Tide, we love Bama. Bama is one of the only schools that just about all of us like or love. They don’t make enemies, only competitors. It’s not like some of the other monster schools that have just as much hate as they do love. I can understand why the love comes pouring out and they can be in the Top 10 still—in spite of the fact they probably should be at the bottom of the Top 10, if at all. The computers don’t love my team’s nemesis either: Ohio State is computer ranked at 16th. However, somehow the poisonous nuts managed to hold on to 11th in the BCS. That doesn’t sound too bad, but here is the shining example of why we no longer use the completely human Harris or Coaches’ polls: *ss-kissing wins votes. They’ve ranked the nuts at 8th. As if!!! That’s half the computer ranking. Give it a rest. Now, don’t get me wrong. You’ve just read that I’m actually ok with, even though a little disappointed, with Bama being ranked higher than they should be. But if you’ve ever met most Ohio State fans, you’ll know what I mean. It’s not like Bama; they don’t inspire respect. The biggest mess at the Big House in record was after a huge upset for nut fans. They’re not known for their good sportsmanship. It’s not one of their fortes. So, I’m always at a loss to understand how a team that hasn’t played more than 4 ranked teams for each of the last 4 seasons can continue to hold on in the BCS.

Boise State, TCU and Oregon have been a long time coming. They’ve played unbelievably hard schedules, and remained unranked for years as they clawed their way up to the top. Mizzou was a top notch, but like Ohio State, didn’t make “friends” back in their hayday. They made enemies, and of course, became the first of the mighty to fall in the great steroids, gifts, illegal benefits, dot, dot, dot… They’ve made a respectable come back almost 20 years in the making. Kudos to them. They’ve clawed as much as Boise State, TCU and Oregon—which is a shame for what used to be a dominating team. But, they earned that hatred as they and their fans back then could be utterly obnoxious. They are different team now, far more humble, after their own Goliath story unfolded. Of course, back then, most of the bigger teams always played the bigger teams. It was a different game then. The little schools weren’t making national headlines, playing nationally ranked teams, and there were no computers. It was all on the human emotionally ranked polls. Hell, Mizzou is ranked 12 in the BCS (14th and 15th, in the Harris and Coaches’, respectively). But the computers have them at 4th. Tough schedule, clawing their way back to the Top. They’ve had several years of tough schedules and they’ve earned that computer rank, but add that human factor and down they fall to as low as the human factor can get them without dropping them off the Top 20.

I’m just wondering how much of our bias is just too much of bias? I love my Wolverines. We don’t belong in the rankings—I’m devastated, but I can admit it. I love my Tigers and my Gators. They’ve had their day; it will come again. But why are we still ranking teams considerably higher than they belong? In 2007, Ohio State was ranked number 1 almost all season. They played 3, yes only 3, Top 20 teams all season. Florida had a hard schedule and stayed up in the top all season. The USC Trojans were up there all season undefeated also, and played an equally grueling schedule. The Trojans lost to UCLA in a sad ending to an almost perfect season that cost them the trip to the BCS National Championship. By the computers, it still should have been Florida vs. USC. But the human factor sent Ohio State instead. It was a slaughter (41-14, for those of you that need a reminder). No sh*t. The nuts hadn’t played anyone worth a damn that year. They were barely winning games against Ohio University and Bowling Green for crying out loud. Ditto in 2008. They looked horrible in the BCS against LSU who took them at 38-24.

Part of it is that we as a whole hate on the western conference teams (the reasoning debate is, as usual, another blog). Part of it is a love for the ugly. Seriously. Mizzou was horrible back in the day—when they were winning they were rude about it. When they were losing, they were sore about it. That chicken came to roost, and it has not been long forgotten as the Harris and Coaches’ polls show.

My question is when does the rooster crow for Ohio State? Enough already. They want to be a Top Ten team, then they need to stop scheduling “fluff” games to keep their winning streak. Bowling Green? Toledo? Ohio U? Western Michigan? How about I pick their schedule for next year:

1. LSU
2. Mizzou
3. Bama
4. Oregon

I know then they have their conference games: next year the conference includes Nebraska and will still have Michigan State and Wisconsin. Figure motion in and out, but still, the Big 10 almost always has at least 3 in the Top 20. That would be 5 to 7 solid teams to beat and earn the actual graces bestowed upon them...

My opinion (worth all of the paper it’s printed on now): Harris and Coaches stop voting on your bias. I do not want to see another sh*t team in the BCS getting their butts handed to them because of your bleeding hearts. It’s the only game that means anything to me in a year where my teams are floundering—as I suspect is the case for all the other die-hard football fans. Thanksgiving weekend will likely be a bust for me this year, and I’m tired of watching less than sufficient teams play top teams because you like their coach in your good buddies network. Your idiocy is affecting the BCS rankings and the college players that are working so hard to get to that precious BCS Bowl. And you’re annoying me (yes, because that’s soooo important) and other fans. Get a reality check and start voting what the schedules and wins are or abstain from voting for (or against) teams that your bleeding hearts have a ridiculous bias for (or against). In the meantime, GO AUBURN!! GO DUCKS!!! Go anybody that actually is earning their ranks. May the BCS Bowl lights shine on anyone that actually earned it with tough schedules and hard won wins.

Why I Belong

I suppose it’s easy for most of the Desert Storm and Gulf Veterans to “write off” the VFW. All of these organizations, the VFW, the Fleet Reserve, the American Legion, etc., have a reputation of a bunch of old men sitting around drinking, a good ole’ boys group telling war stories (aka. fish stories) and talking about how the younger generation is so out of tune. There are times that these stereotypes ring true.

Our post has a canteen area. It has a few of the daily drunk types that would prefer to backstab, whine, drum up drama, gossip and generally think of themselves as better than the rest of us. It’s not always the good ole’ boys from long gone by wars. Sometimes it’s the Auxiliary members. I have had the occasion to listen to an older male veteran, VFW member, say women didn’t belong in the military—as you can see from my picture to the side this is offensive to me. However, as my grandmother used to say, pick and choose your battles. More recently, we’ve had problems with racial comments including inappropriate Hispanic comments by an Auxiliary member in front of a Hispanic decent veteran. Another Auxiliary member found it appropriate to, in a drunken stupor, call a veteran a “f***ing n***er”. The offensiveness of the racial slurs caused an uproar and both Auxiliary members received punitive actions from the House Committee of our post, approved at our vets’ meeting. I’ve also recently read where another VFW post in a New England town has been pushing out a male veteran member because he announced he was Wiccan. These old biases do exist, and we cannot pretend they don’t when a Desert Vet asks.

The reasoning that they have for staying away does exist. It’s tiresome. I don’t enjoy dealing with the drunken backstabbing wife of a fellow vet. I don’t enjoy dealing with male Auxiliary members that think they are equal to female VFW veterans because they paid some dues and attended some meetings. I don’t particularly care for the old male veterans who don’t think women should belong and/or serve.

The things we do don’t always make up for that drama: We stand post at funerals. We greet active duty and reservists coming home. Our Ladies’ Auxiliary often puts on a meal for veterans, active duty and their families at no charge to the families or vets. I’ve seen how these ladies successfully put on a grand meal with little to no notice for a funeral. We provide Service Officers and help in navigating veterans and their families, regardless of membership in our organization, through the government bureaucracy known to most of us as the Veterans Administration. We provide funds for Christmas meals and boxes for the local bases and units overseas. We support the Toys for Tots organization run by the Marine Corps. We provide funding and/or volunteers for organizations like the Young Marines, the Sea Cadets, and the Civil Air Patrol. The limitations of what we can provide is only limited by the veterans in the organization and the funding that we have available.

Still, none of that is why I joined and why I stay an active member. I’ve sent boxes to my old command when they are deployed over the holidays. I’ve sent Christmas cards with thanks to random sailors, marines and soldiers to the government provided APO and FPO addresses for military members that rarely receive mail. I buy $100 plus in toys every Christmas at Walmart and drop the bags off as I leave with the Marines standing next to their Toys for Tots collection at the exit. I still have plenty of active duty friends and now friends’ children to do homecomings and funerals. I don’t need the VFW or the Legion for that.

So what is it that we get? As I’ve already pointed out, our group is like a dysfunctional family. The uncle who makes rude comments because your sister brought home someone of a different race than he finds acceptable. The old grandfather who thinks that I should have stayed in college instead of dropping out and joining the USN, regardless of reasoning. The goofy aunt that drinks too much all the time and says some of the most off-the-wall stuff. So why bother? This is where a lot of us, Desert Storm and Gulf veterans, have a hard time pitching this to other Desert vets. Our sense of honor brow-beaten into us by today’s military gives us little way of denying the undesirable parts of our organizations.

What do we get? Why do I belong?

I belong, because when I walk into my post, see and talk with those veterans that have been there, done that, I feel that camaraderie that no other walk of life can provide. Yes, we have some frat rats and sorority wanna-bes. But the majority of the veterans, regardless of which war or action that they earned their membership through, are there for the other veterans. In the service when we change posts, bases or commands, we don’t start over. We have instant comrades. We are honor bound to each other. We can provide each other comfort, both in silence and in loud jest. I went karokeing one night with some former marines from my post. One of the Vietnam vets got up and started singing a song: “…send guns, money and lawyers. The sh*t’s gonna hit the fan.” We all remember those moments when we were in. We all remember when we were stranded in a hangar, a foxhole, a building, a tent…bored out of our minds, knowing that 10 minutes could change everything. I belong because we don’t have to talk about those things to understand them, but it’s nice to know that you’re sitting there with someone that does understand it. We belong because regardless of what drama is slung around our post, or any other veterans organizations, we know that the other veterans understand and vice versa. We belong because blood, pain, poked, prodded, brow beaten, bored in the sand, stuck, proud, defeated, exhausted, lost, missed, horrified…we belong because the civilian world doesn’t have that bond. We belong for the bond that we learned and earned in the military that we don’t want to live without. This is what we need to tell those Gulf vets. We belong so that we are here for them as much as we belong so someone is there for us.

welcome to the real world...

welcome to the real world...

well, i live in wichita, kansas now. i live here because, frankly, american automotive tanked. as the big 3 fell, so did all of their suppliers. there are a lot of things that were and/or are wrong with american automotive. (note if you know me, i always capitalize "American"...as i do any country reference normally, but i'm not sure automotive in the USA deserves "American" status.) automotive in the USA was eaten alive--by its own greed. by the greed of boards of directors that thought a taurus and an explorer which cost them the same to make should be priced in two different time zones--the explorer selling for more than double the taurus. by the greed of high school graduates that entered into unions created by the silent generation that thought they were owed more than what they were worth. you cannot make more than a college graduate with student loans less than 4 years out of college. it's not realistic. you cannot sweep floors for $10+ per hour more than minimum wage. no company can afford to pay that to anyone with no value add. period. greed, expectation, want, want, want. no one can ride that gravy train and realistically not expect that rooster to come to roost eventually.

and roost it has come. automotive has tanked. the detroit to cleveland area, better known as the automotive corridor, has deteriorated. the recovery for the area is currently estimated at 20 years. yes, twenty years. we that are from the area all know that to be optimistic. detroit has been in the sh*tter for years. there are no, NO, supermarkets within the detroit city limits anymore. imagine a major city with nowhere to purchase all your groceries within a few miles of where you live, and yet, that is detroit. you're almost lucky to find gas stations with convenience stores for milk and basics within the city limits. this is detroit. this is many of the towns in the automotive corridor. my hometown used to have 3 major grocery stores. it now has one, and the town is bigger (population-wise) than it was when we had 3.

why? because we cannot get something for nothing. we cannot make $17 per hour to be a janitor. it's not realistic. we cannot pay college graduates--engineers, professionals--less than what we pay our hourly to sweep floors. why get an education? what message have we sent to our children? in the automotive corridor, the message has been clear: you can join the union. the union will make sure that you make a great living. i'm not faulting the union of my grandparents. the union back then was for "fair" pay, "fair" wages, "fair" benefits, but the automotive union of today has become representative of the same thing of the wall street fat cats: greed--something for nothing. there is a cost for that shallow view: wall street collapses for questionable trades, automotive tanks for greed uncontrolled. while the gravy train is all good, none of us can debate whether these things are out of line, well we can, but no one will care. but now, well, we can't pretend the problem doesn't exist anymore.

i fled the automotive corridor--not because i didn't want to live close to friends or where i had grown up. i wanted my boys to have the life i grew up with. but it wasn't the life i grew up with. my grandparents taught me that life was earned--you work hard and you get what you deserve based on how you worked. it wasn't that. greed changed it. it has become all about what someone owes someone else--especially the uaw. the uaw president made more than 7 figures a year while plants closed left and right. the automotive workers demanded more money while the big 3 and their suppliers laid off, downsized, every single salary person outside of "managers". then they wondered why the plants were relocated overseas!!!!

here's why: all of us have a job to do. production creates the product. salary well..., some are genuinely zero value add: payroll, for example. ah, but no one in production considers them non-value add--they do the paychecks afterall. but, engineers, project management, quality techs and engineers. all non-value add. but in reality, all of these people create the need for each other--all interdependent. engineers improve the product and the productivity of the machines on a line, quality assures the product is what the customer wants, project management ensures that constant improvements keeps the plant competitive with competition. with the unions, all those people are the first to go. production keeps its jobs the longest. but as those other roles end, so does the capability and the ability to expand, grow, and be more effective. as that ends, so does the ability for production to compete--the slow death of the plant and its abilty to produce at a competitve rate. this is the lifecycle.

as i stated earlier, i now live in kansas. i live here, because, well, automotive tanked. we, the salary, that had the opportunity, didn't always leave. i know plenty of my friends--other engineers, senior to junior, other project managers, other highly skilled educated salary employees--that are still unemployed because automotive, the automotive corridor, has not recovered. if we were not willing to relocate, then most of us are still unemployed. that is our reality. the reality is now the hourly, union, uaw jobs, are just as bad off. but they didn't give a sh*t when it was us. we have student loans and made less per hour right out of college than 10 year union members--hell than a lot of 4 year union members. why go to college for an engineering degree when you start in a plant and the people on the floor for the last 4 years make more than you do???? and you have an 8% student loan for $40 to $100K??? what is the motivation? the answer is simple: there is none. you're the first out the door, because you are "work at will". it's not like the union. there is no union rep to argue for your job. there is no possibility to come back after a 4 week vacation (fully paid in some cases) because your union rep won the argument. your job is gone. end of story.

i hear the aircraft unions making these same arguments that the automotive unions made. it scares the hell out of me. the wichita area is all aircraft--they are on the upward swing. they currently estimate 5 years to full recovery. most of the aircraft companies are shooting for 7 year contracts--makes sense for both sides in the long run. 5 years to recovery and 2 years to make sure that both sides are protected as the recovery starts to blossom. the automotive corridor is estimated to 20 year recovery or more. or more. homes in wichita haven't lost much of their value so people here can't grasp 50 to 60% reduction in their home value because of over-inflated pricing because a janitor at a ford plant wasn't worth $17 per hour. duh. a janitor is a minimum wage job--unless a supervisor over several other janitors. and even then, $17 per hour is outrageous for that supervisor. way, way overpaid, unless 20+ years and 2 dozen reports. that's just fact. the automotive corridor is suffering from the outrageous greed. don't get me wrong. there is plenty of blame to go around the corridor--who charges double for a product that costs the same as a product half its price to produce--welcome to the greed that drove our automotive stateside. welcome to what was one of the primary factors in almost destroying the global economy. this is our world now. greed unchecked will effect us all--not just those in their product, not just those in their country or their region or hemisphere...we all pay for those mistakes.

aircraft has been fairly insulated--well, until very, very untimely obama comments (the untimeliness which is a complete different blog)--but they aren't anymore. the economy has suffered and we are all feeling it. and i hear the aircraft unions, not all mind you but some, whining about how unfair it is to them. here's unfair: being college educated, student loans, and knowing that your job is first on the chopping block because the high school grads got into a union. it's unfair to assume that the salary don't feel the pain--they are typically the first to go, because union contracts require the companies to make cuts everywhere else first before cutting union employees--even if they have no work for them. it's unfair that salary benefits are typically worse than union benefits because the companies make cuts to salary benefits to pay for more extravagant union benefits based on their contracts. it's unfair, but that is how our system works. it also means as those salary jobs go away that eventually so will the hourly. just slower, just in bigger numbers when it happens. that's the nature of the beast. we are not "exclusive" of each other; no salary to do the jobs that make production improvements and improved productivity means that production cannot compete. the end result is those union jobs no longer exist.

it's a vicious circle. it's no longer mutually exclusive--we are interdependent. salary depend on hourly to be productive. hourly have to depend on salary to keep their plants competitive. there is no room for the shallow view of hourly versus salary, union versus "management" (of whom most "management" have little to no control over any union negotitations anyway). i hope that the aircraft unions are smarter than the automotive corridor was. if not, a place that has become my home, more so than that small town on the lake is now, will fall into the dark hole that the automotive corridor has.

pipe dreams?

God knows that i've been single for a long while. i've chosen to be--kids and career had to take precedence over finding the man to share my life with. perhaps, the other problem is i've collected over the years a handful of men that made me realize one more thing (each--well, maybe more each) that i didn't want in the man i'm with. perhaps they made me realize a lot of things about myself too. each experience gave me a better perspective of what i did or didn't want in a relationship, what i could or couldn't put up with, what i thought i wanted.

recently, as you know if you read my jibberish at all, i thought i had found the closest thing to what i thought i wanted--an educated, smart, smart alecky at times, fun, job, basic sh*t together, decent guy, if not a little batter and bruised from being mistreated by gold diggers and whores. ok.

but he also took a lot of that out on me. the mistreatment. knowing that, because we had this conversation several times, that i don't sleep around. if i'm dating around, then i am intimate with no one. if i am at the point where i am intimate with someone then i am on that track until the train stops. i made this clear. but somehow, this guy thought that it's ok to look for other women and treat me like crap--except when i made it clear that i was gone if he wanted to play that game. ugh. talk about too much work.

so earlier this week, i was having a conversation with someone that i admire, and i realized that was the one thing that this guy, that every guy that i have ever dated, is missing. since i am one of those women that simply follows my man's lead (when i have one), i give trust unconditionally. i need to be able to trust unconditionally. i need to have someone that i can admire and believe in. i need an honest man that i know i can be proud of the fact that i need him. i need to be able to admire who he is, what he stands for, and how he handles things.

i'm not sure that everyone needs someone that they can admire. i am an odd duck, oddity, 1 out of 8 out of 10,000, afterall (see a previous blog). but i do give my trust completely when i make a commitment to someone. i've been reluctant for a long time to make any form of commitment because i give that high level of trust. i've said to guys i've dated seriously "you lead, i'll follow". i've no desire to act like i wear the pants in a relationship--which in part gives a lot of trust. but that high level of trust really needs someone that can appreciate that trust and respect it. i believe i have to find that person that i admire--for who they are, how they are, what they are, how they treat others, and more importantly, how they treat me. i hope that's not a pipe dream.

you are not my brother, but you can be...

There are just bridges that should never be crossed. Those of us that have been in the military start to realize that quick and learn to adapt. We call it “Brotherhood” or “Brothers-in-Arms”, but the military drills it into the female population of the military that we are “brothers”. We learn to think of ourselves as one of the team, that our jobs are critical; our lives are just as expendable as our brothers. We are trained the same—sometimes harder due to a major transition needed in order to be effective as military combatants. The American public may not be “used” to the idea, and the military may still be trying to accommodate the “gentile” attitude of the American public (lmao..I know…if our public is still gentile, then why do we get so fascinated by reality tv and other moronic crap…, but like I always say—that’s another blog). On the other hand, the women that are serving are told they are equal. The men serving are told they are equal. There is no gender--just sailors, soldiers, airmen and marines. We accept that as fact, eventually, always. We all know a stray here or there that misses the mark, but when we speak of the majority, we, female military active and former, earn our place. We are not WACS or WAVES. We are NOT auxiliaries. We are the real thing just as our male counterparts.

It is highly unusual for Women’s Auxiliaries of the VFW or the American Legion to disrespect female veterans. The ladies in the auxiliaries may not have signed a contract. They may have never wanted to. They may have and floundered on the idea for any numerous reasons—not for ladies, only the ugly women do that, it’s only to find a man…yes, I know them all. My grandmother’s generation often volunteered and you were more likely to find a gorgeous “Rosie the Riveter” than an attractive military WAC or WAVE volunteer. Whatever. This is not WW1 or WW2. This is not even Nam or the 80s. The military started demanding in Desert Storm that a female sailor was not a WAVE—we were/are sailors. The Army and Air Force followed suit fairly quickly. Regardless, of what the USMC delay was, female marines are trained to be just as aggressive as the males. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of an argument with a trained female marine from the 70s (I know one and she was capable of taking down guys—yes, multiple, same time. Sometimes civilian men don’t have the sense God gave a turnip. Five foot four female marine is extremely effective against 4 rednecks that might be able to bar fight, but don’t expect that tiny little woman to tear all of them a new one at the same time. God love the Marine Corps, but, again, another blog…)

On the other hand, I get sick of some, some—a small number compared to the whole, of the men’s auxiliaries of these veteran organizations that have the audacity to tell me, or any other female vet, that we don’t know “brotherhood”. We don’t know what it’s like to “make sacrifices for our brothers”. We aren’t somehow “willing to die” for our brothers, our country, our beliefs. We somehow are less, and the best part, they—these men’s auxiliary members that have NEVER served—know better than any of us—than the women that have served.

Really?!?! Let me say this: You have had the last 10 years to sign a contract and go to theater. You could have gone to boot camp, experienced what it’s like to become a team interconnected, interdependent, where you could have learned what it was like to be there for your “brother” and vice versa. You could have shipped to a squadron, a ship, a unit—reserve or active—and done your time “brother”. You could have been shipped to theater to do your time in the sandbox, the suck, the sinkhole. You could have done your service in Iraq, Kuwait, Qatar, Turkey, Saudi, Afghanistan, the Med, the Persian Gulf, the Sea of Oman or the Red Sea…you could have flown missions or cleared towns or been standing watch at checkpoints. You could have been a “brother”.

But here’s a reality check: YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER. You are not the male marines, sailors, soldiers, or airmen that you look at for support as you disrespect me or the rest of my female peers. You are a WANNA-BE. I am all for you being like the wonderful other members of the auxiliaries who are there for the veterans, who want to support us, who want to support those coming home. And by no means am I upset by their wanting to be part of the supporting organizations within my VFW or Legion. However, I am insulted, I am ashamed for you, and I think you need a reality check.

You are not a “brother”. Your arrogance that you would even know what it was like to work days on end with no sleep, not because you were getting overtime, but because you signed a contract and your brothers, both male and female, are counting on your *ss eludes you. The idea that you have earned it by paying the dues to the auxiliary, attending a couple of meetings, and drinking beers with real brothers is insulting, to all the “brothers”, male and female. We earned it. You didn’t. Period.

If you are so sure that you want to “earn” your right, then go down to the recruiter station and sign a contract “brother”. Afghanistan is still in full play. If you’re too old now, well, excuse my sarcasm when I say you’ve had the last 10 years, 20 even depending on your MOS, rate, etc., to sign your contract, do your time, and become a “brother”. Either way, I don’t care. You didn’t or can’t. Tough twinkies. You’re not my “brother” and don’t you dare have the audacity to lecture me that I have no clue what “brotherhood” means or how you know soooooo much more about it than me or any of the other Storm or Gulf veterans. Here’s a clue jerk-off: You have no clue. You don’t know what “brotherhood” is, but the military is a volunteer force—and the recruiters still have quotas to make. Go for it, "brother"!!

i have lived my grams' dreams...

i have lived my grandmother's dreams...

my grandmother was a school teacher, a suffragette, and a "rosie the riveter". my grams wanted her daughters to live the life that she always dreamed off. my aunts didn't. one became an english teacher just like my grams. one was almost killed trying to make the olympics equestrian team. my mother was on track. she was on her way to the prestigious role of english literature professor--tenured--at a major university. my grams wanted so much for her daughters to have the opportunity be equal, to view themselves as equal, and to be independent and mentors--not just for women, but for men. my aunts fell short, and my mother--passed away when i was young.

i became my grandmother's potential to realize her dreams. i'm not sure that my aunts or my mother could have realized her dreams. the baby boomer generation received a lot of mixed messages, and their lives were overly altered by drug usage, an over emphasis on sexual revolution, and greed. but the granddaughters...well, we were potential. i was the favored granddaughter. period. i thought i was equal--not just because i was told i was. my grandfather had no grandsons. i was the second grand-daughter with little hope for any more grandchildren. i was his favorite granddaughter. i got to work on bertha--my grandfather's precious tractor. i got to ride dirt bikes. i got to climb trees. i got to play football with the boys. i got to shoot rifles and pistols. my grandfather encouraged all of this. on the flip side, my grandmother would dress me up in frilly pink dresses and white patent shoes for easter. she also would tell me i was equal to the boys. i could do anything they could--i could weld, fix cars, play football, and i could still dress like a girl, act like a girl and expected to be treated like a lady. this was my grandmother's hope. this was every suffragette's hope--that we could be equal where it wasn't our sex that determined what we could do or achieve in life. it was never their contention that we couldn't have the social niceties--just the ability to achieve equally.

grams would be proud. i was military. i love the military and i excelled. i finished a bachelor's in engineering at a top university--a university that 60 years ago was a military academy for men only. i have worked my way up a food chain that most men don't get to my level--let alone women. women have and are making those leaps and bounds in much higher numbers now, but i've done something that both men and women don't achieve on the norm. you work hard for it, you earn it and literally 100 years ago, my grandmother and the other suffragettes looked at it as a pipe dream. so i've achieved their pipe dream. their dreams lived and realized through me and other young women striving to be more.

this is my grams' dream. i've lived it. is it mine? i'm forced to look at my life and am i happy? absolutely, i'm happy with what i've achieved. do i want to achieve more and continue to live my grams' dream? i don't know. what happened to my dream? did i have one? i look back this is my dream--it is the dream that was instilled into me years ago. it started when i was born...this is the dream.

but my grandfather told me i was a princess. he instilled that thought that there was that perfect prince--not prince william (yea, cuz he's too young for me...lol...) but that i was entitled to my prince charming. that i was supposed to have the love of my life and my grams well she kept pushing that we (my cousins and i) could have it all. men could have a fufilling career and the love of their life...and so could we. nothing was ever in contridiction that they taught me. i could have both. i, well, i dreamed of both.

i have the career. i've worked hard for it and i've been successful overall. i'm trustworthy and hard-working. these are strong traits in me and cherished traits to excel in a career. but i have no prince, no prince charming. the last couple of days i'm thinking about this missing piece. my grandmother didn't consider this important. she was very concerned about the career, the freedom of one's own paycheck, the perfection of being able to afford your own life. it is a wonderful feeling--it is: "buying your own perfect shoes: $150. buying your own wonderful house: several $K. being able to afford your own independence: priceless."

but grams had my grandfather. it wasn't a needed part to the equation, because it was assumed it was there. it was--for grams and grandpa. but it was never discussed with me how i would get to have both. when i was almost 18, i met tommy. tommy was 6'5", 260 lbs., blonde hair, blue eyes, and he was great. he was smart, attractive, big teddy bear type--an adorable farm boy from back home. grandpa would've loved him had he lived long enough. when tommy proposed there was no doubt in my mind that i should marry him. we had agreed to a fairly long engagement--a little more than 2.5 years, based on college and military service (his not mine--mine came after...after this fell apart...)but a year before our wedding, tommy wanted to runaway, elope, and live a year at ft. benning til he was discharged. he was opposed to discussion and there was no changing his mind. we should be married now--not next year. i didn't want to get married then. i wanted to wait for our original date--a year away. i wanted time to live my life, and i wasn't even sure why. a poor choice of words on his part, and well suffice to say, the argument ended when i quit answering his phones calls and marking all his letters return to sender.

but why did i? i loved tommy more than i ever loved anyone. and the following 20 years produced no one who could compete--not that anyone had to. (we could talk about my ex, who i thought could at the time--but he wasn't of the caliber of person, but of course, that's another blog.) but i wanted to live my own life--just for a bit. it had been so deeply ingrained in me that i needed that extra year, and it had been so deeply ingrained into tommy that we were supposed to be married that extra year sounded ridiculous. all of our friends were marrying--we were that age. but i wanted more that to be a farmer's housewife. i wasn't sure what i wanted, but i didn't want to own a floral shop or a hair salon or be a school teacher or nurse. i wanted to be me, and maybe i was clueless what that was other than what tommy said or wanted. marriage at that moment would have taken that away the ability to find myself, and yet to him, marriage was a requirement at our age.

did he love me? absolutely. did i love him? absolutely. but i've always told myself it wasn't meant to be. period. tommy was like me--smart, really smart...fun, responsible, dedicated. a bit of an anomoly in his own right, an achiever. he also was morally my equal. there's only been one man since of tommy's caliber, but not of tommy's innocence. we were innocent back then, before anyone had broken hearts...

i live my grams' dream still, but my dream...my dream is in part the life i live now, and if i were with tommy, i wouldn't have lived that life. i would've lost out on 75% of what i thought was important in my life. i just wish i could have that love of my life who needs me and that i need, who matches me and who i match. 75% might be the life that makes you feel accomplished and i have that, but now i miss that 25% that makes life fufilled.--the 25% where you have the person that you need and that needs you. i lived and achieved my grams dreams in full...when do i get the portion that's my dream?