letters unsent

Part of our jobs as humans is to evolve.. I know, fucking shocker, right?! Well, there may be humans that think think “devolve”… but whatever. They can stew in their ignorance while the rest of us move forward with vengeance. Or something like it. Right now I’m thinking less of those things than of the evolution of self; how hard I have personally worked to evolve. So many turns, to take me from child to now. The labels are ridiculous. But that can be mother post… Tonight is a letter unsent. Because sometimes you need to tell peeps why for real, not for fakes…

I asked a family member if they would like to see a cover band at a local venue. I heard about the show and asked the same day. Covers of their favorite band. Now… I have built solid boundaries and put space between myself and the negativity that was my family life. But every once and a while….. this shit happens…


Saw this show, thought of you. Would you like to go?

Are you wanting to go. Hub says it sounds great. I don’t have money for tickets. Waiting on tax return.

Would love to go but you all ready spend way too much money on us. I appreciate it but please save your money. I love you for thinking about us but please dont

Um, It seems silly that you and your hub want to go but are arguing dollars. Does the show sound awesome?? Because your husband wants to go, you love the band being covered, and I’d like to do this. So… How about you call it happy birthday.


Here’s the part where I get frustrated and it becomes the unsent… because that was reallllllly nice.

Honestly, your false concern for my finances is tiring. You consistently complain about the ways you are “broke” or “behind” or “can’t afford” something. But you are being freely offered a gift and you say no, in a backhandedly nice way. Don’t do that. It’s like refusing a compliment you deserve. What concern is it of yours what I can afford to do?? It’s $50. You are acting like I spend thousands of dollars on you to make yourself a martyr. Save your concern for yourself and the ways you need to improve your own situation. If I would like to spend money I have worked hard to earn, on someone, anyone for that matter, it is up to me. If I offer something and you would like to do it… the expected, no, not expected, the polite response (the one ANYONE else would give) is ‘that sounds awesome! We would love that!’.

So… does that sound awesome?? Because your husband thinks so. He wants to go, you love the band being covered, and I’d like to do this. It’s time for you to stop policing me and what I do with my time and money. This kind of crap is why I don’t often bother. False concern for my finances is not winning you any points with me, it’s pissing me off. You playing like it bothers you on one hand, then complaining to everyone that will listen that I don’t do enough, to gain their sympathy and audience is tiresome and frustrating. No one likes someone falsely modest or seeking attention. You actually deserve it for what you do. You earn attention when you engage with people for real. So, if you want me to engage, act like it. Now, let’s start again and hopefully we can have a better result this time. Let’s try.


Saw this show, thought of you. Would you like to go?

not quite a .38 special

I know, I know… before you launch into a tirade about how I should be writing more, and it’s cathartic, and will cure whatever ails me.. piss off.

Okay, okay, I didn’t mean it. I want you here, but (and it’s a Star Jones pre-surgery sized butt) only if you are prepared for the older, not necessarily wiser, unfiltered, unadulterated, unashamed madness that is sars at 37. Because suddenly I found myself staring down the barrel of .38 trying to figure out where 37 years, a bunch of dreams and half my mind had gone. Shit (y’all). shit… Where the fuck did 37 years go? Why do I have all this shit to say causing me ocular leakage, filling my sinus’ and giving me a goddamned headache? Why indeed! I created my own fucking happy place and I intend to use this shit as I see fit. So the warning sign that some fucking hipster kicked over has been reinstalled in a concrete post hole and The Social Assassin has it in his sites (don’t fuck with him, he pulls no punches and will make you cry for years to come.). That being said, well… I don’t know, I make this shit up as I go. Long before the advent of pinterest or someecards or any of those places, I would quietly collect and share little quotes, words of wisdom with people through writing and correspondence. (and maybe the occasional framed card or something) You remember writing on paper don’t you? I am a walking pinterest board with all the quotes I have collected over the years. So as I stare at 38 I decided to share some shit, not necessarily just quotes, or some gold or some golden shit… whichever it may be. So without further adieu…

Buddha said “All life is suffering.” Y’all know I love me some Buddha. If I were Buddhist I may sit here and tell you how we should forgive all, trust everyone and allow ourselves to be in the moment and be one with our suffering because it is the way to achieve enlightenment. Horse. Shit. I do believe we should forgive, we should let go of the past – but (there is that but again) we have to learn whatever lesson we were supposed to from whatever shit hit our fan. Otherwise we suffered for no fucking reason. Because that Buddha, was right (again) when he said “Holding on to anger (or insert resentment – I do) is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at the one who wronged you. You are the one who gets burned.” I’m not saying forget everything… just move forward. It is important to remember… remember what we learned from the hurts we feel, remember the times we fall on our ass, remember the people we lost because we fucked up royally… equally as important is to remember the people who fucked up and hurt us, so we don’t fall for the same trick again. We should learn from our suffering because Buddha may have said that all life is suffering, but ya know… he never said you have to suffer to live. I think every time we move forward and learn from the mistakes of the past, maybe, we can prevent a little suffering in our future.

Facebook is not a substitute for life. If you are reading this you probably know that I hate Facebook. The only reason I am on there is guilt. I probably need to work on that to prevent some suffering. Anyhow… we are the age of technology rapidly becoming the age of completely connected. This sounds good on paper.. er.. screen, but we are losing touch with each other as human beings. We are becoming isolated, lonely, and forgetting that we need each other. Put the cellphones, iPads, tablets of another variety, laptops and netbooks away for a bit and have dinner with your spouse, significant other, kids and friends. Remind yourself and them, that reality is where you look at each other, touch, hold hands, hug, laugh, cry, scream, find out that things are happening because someone’s mouth spoke the words, not because someone random posted something they heard from the neighbor on facebook. Take an entire day without tech. Can you do it? Send a birthday card without posting a witty abbreviated message on their wall. I read a cover story for The Atlantic recently that dug in to the meat of this very topic. (there have been several articles disputing The Atlantic’s story, my opinion on these articles is they are written by people that do nothing but play on facebook, they don’t understand reality and personal contact.) It took deleting my facebook completely to realize who my real friends actually are, and it isn’t the people who tell my boyfriend how great I am but never bother to tell me to my face. I am more than the number of “likes” or +1’s that my post has. I am more than the number of views on my blog. I am less than the number of friends I have on Facebook, and that suits me just fine. Because at the end of the day ~when I find myself fading I close my eyes and realize, my friends are my energy.~ I said friends, not facebook… that would just sound dumb.

I had a more amazing nuggets of wisdom to impart, but I decided that it has taken me a month to post this so I may want to speed this along. Plus it gives me some shit to post over the next few days. I feel some blog vomit about to happen and it will not be for your children. Because sometimes it’s just like that, you look in the mirror and you aren’t 21 anymore. And it’s a good thing, at 21 you are afraid to say the word cunt.