expectations


Often times in life we have so many expectations placed on us.

It seems like they are there daily to keep you on your course or drive you out of your mind.

I know I place expectations on myself.

I often wonder if I am too hard on myself or not hard enough.

I know that others have expectations of me and I know that I let them down sometimes.

I hate letting people down.

Some matter more than other, but to me, they all matter to varying degrees.

I love being told I should raise or lower my expectations.

Please tell me about the how and why I should!

For general things, movies, going out in public, etc. I have placed lower expectations so that when I have a pleasant experience I am often surprised and happy that they met and exceeded my original expectation.

With people I place a higher expectation. Though I realize it is not more than I place on myself.

We all have quirks, issues and faults.

It isn’t about that.

More of the basic human decency to communicate, respect and not take each other for granted.

Lately I am finding that many friends and family have gone above and beyond when it comes to me and my own expectations.

I am constantly amazed when someone tells me I inspired them or I performed much better than anticipated.

I recently found myself facing the first time of not being able to meet a deadline. I physically could not do it.

One of my fabulous friends stepped up to the plate and just offered, no strings, to help me.

This is how my friends and I are. We just step in and help.

I can’t tell you how much this meant to me.

Another friend knew I was upset about having to go for a medical procedure and offered, again, to take off work and to the appointment. She had just done it and was offering to ask off again to take little old me downtown again and wait while I have the procedure done. She will then take me back to another mutual friend’s home where I will recover for the day.

These people don’t have to do these things for me.

I do not expect it.

Yet they show me they care by stepping up and going beyond “the basics”.

I am so blessed to be around folks like this the majority of the time.

I must say when I collect my friends, I only collect the best!

Have a fabulously graceless Friday my friends!

 

Happy Birthday to My Sister from another mister!


Sometimes in this life we get lucky.

We meet a friend who is so rare that we become friends with them as children and are able to carry that friendship through the years.

We make it through puberty, marriage, kids, moves, divorce, family craziness, friends together with others and even deaths.

If we are very, very fortunate that person becomes family to us.

Today I celebrate my sister from another mister!

Since I change all names to protect the innocent and insane alike I just have to say that one is hard because I want the world to know how my sister has literally saved my life in the over 35 years we have known each other.

I will call her Peevley because yes, there is an inside joke to that, but it makes me laugh every time I type it!

Some of you may can remember the song “Our house in the middle of our street”, well those words anyway. If you can’t then just go with it!

Our houses were right across the street from each other.

We literally could and would meet in the street and go to each other’s homes.

She is two years older than me but we are both about 20 in our minds so it all works out!

We tell people we share a memory and it’s actually true.

Parts of her childhood were not pleasant, so when she took protective measures to move on with her life, she blocked out more than just the bad parts.

So she has big Swiss cheese size holes in parts of her memory and I supply the information back to her.

It can really suck having such a good memory at times, especially when you have seen things you wish you could un-see but it’s there because that “steel trap” metaphor is for real in my world.

And yes, sometimes I make up stuff to “remind” her and usually get called on it. Most of the time!

Her “biological” parents and brother are no longer in our lives.

We just say we are twins and my family claims her.

Though we look Nothing alike, we do tell folks we are twins and amazingly many people believe us.

We are about the same height, no matter what she says about being taller, but that would be where the similarities end on the looks.

I have dark hair and olive skin and she has red hair and glowy white see through skin.

You see why I question those who think we’re twins?!

Not to mention our body parts are different sizes, her waist is smaller while I will never know the joy of the junk in the trunk comments she gets!

I tan and she burns turning red with green freckles.

We know when the other one is mad or upset sometimes by just a feeling.

Example, one of us feels strange and calls the other.

First question is “What is it?” Then the other proceeds to go on rant or explain what is getting to them.

No questions of “how did you know” we just know.

I know twins who have this and close sisters but we aren’t blood related.

She isn’t the only one I am this way with.

For the most part, we have a lot of the same friends.

However, we both have friends we will ask, “Please explain again why we like that person?” but will respect each other’s choices and reasons.

We don’t need nor do we “seek approval” we merely ask for advice and automatically accept each other for who we are.

We don’t have to like the decisions, actions or words of the other but we always accept and love each other no matter what.

I can’t imagine my life without her.

She lives nearly 13 hours away now and we still talk weekly and see each other at least once a year.

She was blessed to find her happily ever after when we were young, ok I know I am younger but she still wasn’t able to legally drink when she married “the boss”!

We are a part of each other and our families are so intertwined you need an index, compass and subscriptions to Psycho Weekly and National Geographic just to keep up!

We raised her kids and now mine.

It’s freaky really that my son could be her grandchild!

Her son is the eldest of our kids at like 27. If he is any older my mind can’t think of that right now as I remember when she was pregnant with him!

Our only girl is 25ish and of course the youngest boy turns 5 this year.

See what I mean by he could be the age of a grandchild if she had one?!

And she knows I am just messing with her by writing that!

Seriously, we have talked each other down off the proverbial cliff, listened, held hands, wiped tears and puke for each other.

I truly would give her a kidney if needed.

One of our “sharable” stories from the years was when we were teens, about 15 & 17, we snuck out of her house and met her boyfriend, also my good friend, and rode around until we could meet my boyfriend.

We met back up later, snuck back into her house and thought we were so cool and had gotten away with it.

Except we grew up in a neighborhood where everyone knew everyone and everyone watched each other’s kids.

We were so busy sneaking out and then back in that we failed to note our neighbors, who had been at midnight mass, in their driveway with a direct view to the window we climbed out of.

Of course they told our parents.

They all met at the local Burger King to plot our death over coffee!

Both her and my parents had been taping our phone calls.

BUSTED.

We both got a whopping and severely grounded for several months.

We were not “allowed” to “play together” for that summer, however, when school started back up I was allowed to ride with her to school and we had to come straight home and check in!

Never once did it cross our minds to “no longer be friends”.

If anything it was one of the many things that brought us closer.

Fast forward about 20 years and her husband was deployed to a warzone as he was in the Army Reserves.

This was his second deployment and their kids were now teens.

I thought nothing of driving up to be with her and the kids over the winter break.

Just as I would have it no other way to go back 6 months later when he returned and we held a celebration for his safe return.

Being so far apart makes life so challenging when you can just drive over, sit down with your friend and share time talking face to face.

But Peevley and I can just pick up the phone and we are right where we need to be.

I have made and collected so many friends in my life, but I was lucky to find and keep my Peevley this long.

We both make the effort to keep in touch and talk whether phone, text or emails. And, of course, the occasional SnapChat!

If we go more than a week without talking, which happens due to schedules, families and living in different time zones, we get weirded out and have to call just to “hear you irritatingly lovely voice” as we like to say.

Really it’s a sanity check for us both.

Without her I know I would be lost.

So to my sister, Thank You.

Thank you for always being there for me, for believing in me and staying with me even when it was hard, and I know it was at times!

You are the Best Sister, Friend, co-conspirator and woman I am privileged to share my life with!

Happy Birthday Peevley!

I love you!

From birth to earth my steel magnolia sister!

Have a Fabulously Graceless Wednesday!

me n peevleey

Please, tell me how I should “feel”


As everyone is aware, or at least the majority of folks, there is a lot going on in the world today.

Here in the good old USA, we have so much happening and watching the news can be depressing.

Recently, with the latest shooting, I was watching the newscast with a friend and we were discussing how horrible it was, wondering if the boy was mentally ill or a young man who got caught up in hate and “lost it”.

Several news reporters used the phrase, “We are trying to report how you should feel” regarding the shootings.

Really.

You want to tell me, and millions of viewers, how to feel about this situation?

Do you know me and my friends? Do you know all of those millions you try to delude?

I know that my friends and I have had varying feelings from shock, to anger, to disgust and just shaking our heads that yet another mass shooting had occurred by one of our own on American soil.

I have been stewing on this one for almost a week now, reading different opinions and reports.

Reading all that I can regarding this barely legal young man and, in my opinion, not only the hate crime that he committed but the domestic terrorism as well.

I have not seen where he has been charged with domestic terrorism.

To me that is odd because that is what he did.

He terrorized innocent people on American soil.

At a historic church no less and at a Bible study.

True peaceful human beings.

He sat with them for “close” to an hour, accounts vary on time but all say nearly an hour or more, then pulled out his gun and shot them. Reloaded and kept shooting.

Calculated, cold blooded murder.

I cannot imagine those in that room how they felt.

The terror. The confusion. The shock.

To be in a place of peace and be gunned down like an animal has got to be one of the worst feelings.

I know I cannot imagine nor would I disrespect those who have gone through this tragedy by trying to do so.

Losing you loved ones in front of you and having to play dead.

Thinking your loved one was just going to bible study and will be coming back home and they never make it.

I cannot fathom that kind of pain.

So to be told by the media that they were “working to report how we should feel in the wake of this shooting” is callous and disrespectful of the victims and their families.

It is disrespectful to the viewers.

Everyone reacts differently to situations.

Being told “how to feel” makes me feel very Orwellian.

And a bit creepy.

For me, my heart and prayers go out to the victims, their families and everyone dealing with this situation.

Also to the shooter’s family.

Again I can’t imagine it.

As to how I feel, I feel like I wish I could take away this pain, this hate, this obsession people have with harming others.

I don’t need the media to dissect my feeling or tell me how I should feel.

Believe me I feel.

Have a fabulous Tuesday my graceless friends!

Not into politics?


This is one of those “hot button topics” I am guessing.

And yes, I have thought long and hard before I started this post. This “topic” on my Lists of Topics has many notes under it which anything “touchy” does because I feel I am putting my viewpoint out there to be bashed or agreed with.

Either way, here we go!

I thought about how often someone asks you “who are you voting for?” or “what do you think about what that judge says? Do you agree?”. Where I live there are some pretty heavy political fights happening that involve the lives of other human beings. So lately the questions have been flying.

I literally Hate those kinds of questions.

I used to work in a hair salon and for a long time in non-profit. We had 2 topics we Never discussed at both places, religion and politics.

From my employer’s standpoint, we were in business to do hair, we could listen and comment, if we chose, about everything from gardening to who was doing who doing who, the parties, people, animals, the weather but once someone brought up religion or politics we were to say, “We do not talk about that here. We are not allowed to as problems have arisen in the past. It is our policy. If there is a problem please take it up with the management.” I was fine with that and also much younger.

At the non-profit it was easier to understand. We were there to help the community and put an end to a disease that affected everyone regarding their political beliefs or lack thereof. So no need to upset folk because money was needed to fund programs and research to stop this disease. Easy peasy I could always talk my way around it onto other truly important topics. I was growing and becoming more aware of the world around me. I had definite opinions and not all of them right by a long shot, but again I do not like arguments so I was happy with following the “policy” of not discussing either topics.

When I was in my early 20’s I was somewhat of a rebel and would say, “I’m not political. I understand you feel my vote counts, I don’t nor am I in the mood to debate you on topics I may or may not know about because I really do not care about your politics.”

It was the almost truth. I did care but was hesitant to speak out about how I felt because I do not like confrontations and I felt sure wasn’t educated enough to get into a debate about it with some jerk who only wanted a chance to relive those high school debating team days or who was a toad trying to make themselves feel better by pointing out one’s lack of knowledge on certain topics.

As I grew older my voice got a bit louder. I didn’t claim a party. In fact to this day, I will tell you all of one group being in complete control scares the crap out of me.

I think we need balance.

Personally sometimes I think we need to doing a “closet cleaning” and make them all take lie detector tests and go from there. It would do a lot of the cleaning out!

The more I pay attention to politics the weirder the world seems.

I mean like the Aliens vs Predators type of way too.

No one is who you think they really are.

I do understand there are Good humans out. They really, truly do care about others and the planet. They are doing the best they can with a lot of broken parts and in some cases, arcane laws

I mean seriously, there is a town in Georgia, and probably other states too, that states you can’t walk you cow down the center of the street after 6:00 PM. Really?! This madness is still on the books as a “crime.”

See, cleaning out the closet isn’t such a bad idea! I mean what if I had decided to borrow a cow and walk up the middle of the street in this town? Would I be arrested before I was mowed down by a car or eighteen wheeler?! Because that particular area is pretty populated these days and I don’t know too many folks that need to take their cows to town by foot any longer! Where would they take my cow?!

But am I political? I would have to say yes.

Like with religion, I know I am not a zealot. Nor do I mean to offend but some folks can get a bit rabid and over zealous regarding their politics and religion. I do not begrudge you of that. However, like anything else, you get into my personal space with your hollering and preaching (over the top and yes, it does happen) and I tend to drop out on you. Or at you depending on the circumstance.

I was raised in the south. Politics and religion are a way of life or so it seemed. I remember being about 6 or 7 and having a bumper sticker that was a Jimmy Carter campaign slogan on it on my big wheel. I thought it was cool I had a sticker for my big wheel. Little did I know that was free advertising for the democratic party!

Later on I had “grown up” and moved out to California. My parents came to visit me and said the following evening they were having dinner with “George Bush, Jr and 200 of his ‘closest’ friends”. I was mortified. Had anyone heard? I mean California, Berkeley, California where I lived was full of liberals. They were everywhere and just like back home with some that got a bit to “on their party’s wagon” they scared me just a little. Not that I agreed fully with Either side but the “oh please no confrontations” gene kicked in so I moved the conversation to another topic swiftly and gracelessly while my parents and 4 other dinner companions looked at me oddly. Nothing new there!

For the record my dad did meet George and apparently got in trouble with the Secret Service because they were discussing hunting and the environment of hunters, boats and goodness knows what else. Topics my dad loved! And, gee wasn’t it funny, how the President of the United States and him were discussing guns, boats and how to work on the environment and apparently the President wasn’t supposed to be spending more than a few minutes with each of those “close friends” and had to be asked by the SS repeatedly to “Please move it along Sir.” Still a great story and proves to me that people are people, even if they have a different “label”.

I was living in Berkeley, California on September 11, 2001.

I was having a dream that I was in a plane and a man who spoke a different language than I did started screaming and I knew the plane had been hi-jacked. I was terrified.

I then woke to my roommate saying, “You have to get up and come see the news. This is horrible.”

So I am freaked out because of my dream and because, well, it’s never safe to wake me up if I think I am sleeping in (that changed a bit with a child) because I got kind of mean-ish. It could be said by friends I was evil being woke early and unexpectedly! Plus my roommates never bothered me unless there was something Big going on. This was definitely “Big”.

We all stared at the TV mutely watching the first plane on the side of the World Trade Center.

I immediately got on the phone calling back east. I got in touch with my close girlfriend when the second plane crashed. We were both throwing up on the phone as we realized simultaneously what was happening.

It took me a while but I was able to make sure all my family and friends I could think of were safe. I knew a few had trips scheduled to D.C. and New York so I was, like a large majority of the country, completely crazed to know if “my people” were ok while I lived through the saddest day I had every witnessed.

I spoke with my grandparents. My grandfather was a Merchant Marine in WW2 and they said that 9/11 was worse than the attack on Pearl Harbor. My grandmother saying over and over, “Those poor people. Their loved one could see them jumping.” I, nor will millions of others, forget that day, nor will I forget what she said.

Because of the media we had instant coverage. The horror. The grief. The rage.

In the days that followed I saw and felt so many emotions. Sadness. Grief. Loss. Scared. Anger.

But I also watched a country come together as a nation to care for those who lost their lives and those who gave their time, money and even their lives to help our nation rebuild.

As I left the West Coast a month and a half later I thought about what had happened. Going west to east during that time was truly and experience I will never forget. The closer into the heartland of America I saw more flags that I had the entire move west. Though we took different routes when going west and coming back to the south, the feeling was completely different.

America had changed. Or maybe I had. Maybe we both had.

I didn’t feel like I could pretend things didn’t matter to me anymore.

I couldn’t “ignore” things said in front of me that degraded another human, no matter what they looked like, where they were from or what their beliefs were.

I can assure you I didn’t move back and become some kind of political activist.

I did however realize that I enjoyed taking care of others and those who couldn’t help themselves over being a corporate drone again. I also had to take a corporate job after the birth of my boy as children aren’t cheap!

But I continue to this day to volunteer and help out others as I can. Not because I want some “gold star” but because for me it is the right thing to do.

What I could tolerate years ago there are now some things I have no patience for now. My way of thinking has changed. Having a child changed me.

To be young and so “set” in your views & ideals is now amusing to me.

You say you will NEVER change this or that about yourself.

Maybe you don’t. But you do grow. And with growing can come knowledge and understanding of a different perspective. Maybe you care more now that you did. Maybe you aren’t as selfish or maybe you are more so now after your youthful experiences. Maybe you changed.

For me, I think that I have always been political, I just now am better with how I articulate my feelings and actually research my topics.

I have always been drawn to my community and the world around me.

I feel I am able to contribute to a conversation even if I say, “I am not currently up to speed on that subject but I promise I will get back to you.”  I don’t feel dumb saying it because it is true. I may never see that person again but I will learn about what they were referring to and figure out how I feel or don’t feel about it.

So if the toad wants to go a round with me now, I am ready!

Have a fabulously graceless evening!

My apologies on the tardiness of this post but the stomach plague hit me today courtesy of my little Typhoid Mary. Here’s hoping tomorrow is better!