The subject always heats me up in a bad way. Each time I try to write about it I end up backspacing, deleting, rewriting – and guess what? I still end up all over the place. This is sure to be no exception.
A guy I know is going through a rough time. Upon recently learning of his wife’s affair with a co-worker, he confronted her on it. She pledged to ‘end’ it, but obviously didn’t. Long story short, he left her this past weekend.
My curse of thinking too much strikes again, as question after question invades my thoughts. Even if she had ‘ended it’ like she promised, could she really have continued working with the ex-lover? And if so, could my friend have slept well at night knowing the two were still ‘together’, albeit on the job?
Welcome to today’s world where the females are definitely giving the males a run for their money on this issue. At the risk of sounding crude… I’ve gotta go there. Why can’t these people keep their pants on? Can an hour of pleasure really be worth destroying the life of your spouse and/or children? Does your stomach not twist up in worry and angst over what you’ve done – or at least from fear of getting caught? And are ya really gonna trust someone you cheated with not to do the same to you later?
Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely do have great respect for those who’ve been able to get past an affair and ultimately save their marriage. I just can’t imagine many cases turning out like that.
I’ve heard the words reason or exception thrown around, I say SAVE IT. No reasons or exceptions matter to me in this most tender area. Yes I have an assload of sins myself, but infidelity isn’t in that huge pile and it never will be. I know some might call my views one-sided, and maybe they are – but they’re mine. Infidelity within a marriage is a certain removal of trust – the most personal betrayal – a definite stab in the heart. Who knows what goes on in a cheater’s head – I’m just unable to rationalize it in any way shape or form.
It usually takes a while to adjust to new living conditions, whether you’ve made the move yourself or someone else has moved in with you. After several months, it’s fair to say Keith and I have established a good little ‘routine’ with daily duties such as dinner, grocery shopping, laundry and other things.
During our grocery trip this Saturday, we lingered in the produce department – everything seemed to look extra-good. We happened upon a batch of pears, which I don’t normally buy.
Me: ‘I dunno. Don’t think I’ve ever tried them.’
Keith: ‘Oh, they’re good – if you get the right one.’
Me: ‘Yeah, my dad likes pears (the right ones).’
fondles picks up the pears and puts each one back, them obviously not being up to his standard. Rounding the corner, he utters ‘aha!’ and walks over to another batch, eyeing them like an old girlfriend. Since I’m a pear newbie, I can’t remember the type – Bartlett or Bosc, I think – they had bits of green and brown. I watched as he gingerly picked a few up, felt them, smelled them.
This flashed me right back to a scene from a favorite movie, City of Angels – of Meg Ryan picking up the pears and smelling them. Of Nicolas Cage learning how to do it by intently watching her. It looked like that exact same type of pear.
Anyone remember the HBO series Dream On from the 90’s? I loved that show. It featured a neurotic New Yorker (Brian Benben) whose real life antics always drummed up scenes of old TV shows. Reminds me of someone I know…
Have you ever wished for something, and over time found yourself subliminally ‘padding the way’ for it to happen? Not necessarily ‘making it happen’ or ‘helping it out’ – but perhaps making it ‘easier to occur’?
Setting the stage, so to speak.
It has recently come to my attention that I may be unintentionally doing this. Once I realized it for what it really was, I was disappointed in myself. The sheer anticipation of certain hopes and dreams somehow warped my brain into thinking that I need to provide my assistance or guidance in order for them to happen.
Go out and grab life by the horns, Bon. Seize the world – it’s yours. Make your own destiny. It’s never too late to be what you might have been. I heard it all. And I listened.
After twenty-three years of marriage I was the proud owner of a can’t-think-for-myself brain. Once I finally met and became acquainted with ME 1.0, I convinced myself I had to become a strong individual and maintain control and direction. I’m still (slowly) learning that exercising that ‘control’ does not and should not apply to every single thing in life. Some things need to occur naturally if they are to occur – and over time. Unwittingly setting the stage isn’t always appropriate.
Certain dreams and aspirations I have will either come true or they won’t. I have to come to the realization that some things in life just do not need my assistance.
Since the ole’ anniversary’s over with now, guess I can spill the beans about what I got Keith. Pack up the kids – we’re goin’ to Biltmore! (just kidding about the kid part.)
Yep, I said we.
This was my present to him, two tickets to The Biltmore House. I suppose it might sound a little self-serving (or a lot, depending on who you are)… but just what do you get a guy who’s got everything (including me)? 😀
I pondered what to get him for months. Here’s the lowdown on said conversation(s) with myself.
Me: Electronics? Guys always like electronics…
Inner Self: He’s already got everything. Besides, I’d need at least two grand or more to impress him in that area.
Me: Clothing? Maybe some fall wear?
Inner Self: I’ve gotten him apparel as a filler for every occasion for two years. He’s gotta be so sick of it by now.
Inner Self: C’mon Bon, really? What, a nice necklace (already has)… a bracelet (won’t wear one)… a watch (has five or more)… hey how ’bout a ring?? (Smacks self in forehead) Now what kind of an impression would that lead to? Talk about self-serving…
Enter ‘trip’ thoughts.
Inner Self: We were planning that anyway.
Que the Biltmore House. We’d talked about going there but had never made any final plans. Not only is it expensive – but devoting one lone day to seeing everything just isn’t going to cut it. At least eight full hours are needed there, maybe more for the winery and gardens – and it’s about a 2 1/2-hour trip one way. So an overnight stay would definitely be in order.
Neither of us have ever been before – I’d never have considered it if he had. Two native Carolinians who’ve never been to Biltmore usually make for interesting conversations with some of the older locals. Whenever we feel like pushing it a step further so as to to appear sheltered, we’ll throw in the fact that neither of us have ever been to Charleston, either.
The poor babes, they really do need to get out more. These places have been around since the arc.
It’s probably the closest we’ll ever come to being in a castle. I’m ready to be mesmerized and enchanted…
The ghosts of the past who appear in my recent dreams are starting to wear me down. Saturday and Sunday nights were both restless; when sleep did come it was packed full of crappy dreams. Weird, emotional, gross, sad, useless – all of it. In dire need of sleep, I retired early again last night. Once more, the ghosts of times past infiltrated my dreams. None of these entities have a current role in our lives, so I just couldn’t imagine a reason for them being in the dreams.
It’s not like me to have repetitive dreams of a undesirable nature, but I believe I’ve at least figured out the cause of them. As of recent, I’ve been putting more thought into the future than ever before. Sometimes when you contemplate the future you inadvertently propel yourself into the past – whether or not you want to. Your subconscious thoughts can and will manifest into your dreams. The fine line between fantasy and reality has never been a difficult thing for me to discern. That said, I now find a slice of my reality being spent fighting demons ensued by the dreams that decide to hang around and poke me with a stick the next day.
A long time ago I was asked, ‘Which would you prefer? The devil you know, or the devil you don’t know?’. My answer was ‘The devil I know’. Somehow I have to figure out how to not pick both.
Being as how I wrote about it in length last August, I’ll just reiterate the fact that I’m happy beyond words and leave it at that. If you have any desire to hear me gush on about it, you can read last year’s post.
I just bought his anniversary present today. Wish I could say what it is in this post – but on the off-chance of him reading this, I’d be screwed (I’ll be sure to fill ya in later). I hope he likes it.
It really is the little things in life that count. Like being together and making memories. Experiencing the overwhelming feeling of complete love and trust. Just being happy. Actually, I consider being happy a huge thing…
Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.
A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.
In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.
I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…
Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.
Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to have my Dad over. We cooked out Saturday night and watched a movie afterwards, and the next morning attended service at his church. With it being a 50-mile drive from my home to his church, Keith suggested that him spending the night might make things easier. I can’t express how grateful I was for the opportunity to do this.
I was able to meet Dad’s fellow church members, many of which are elders. Those of us who were early sat on the side pews and conversed amongst each other. I didn’t pay much mind to a kindly gentleman who got up and went back outside, until Dad turned around later and said, “That’s Mr. and Mrs. Q. They can’t take care of each other anymore, and live separately. Every Sunday morning he eagerly waits outside for her to arrive.”
I would estimate Mr. and Mrs. Q to be in their nineties. As I turned around and watched them come ever so slowly down the isle, arm in arm – my heart melted. What I saw wasn’t two elders. I saw a very beautiful couple, each wearing a wide smile. Love radiated outward from them, I mean they actually glowed. It seemed a real-life version of The Notebook, and I found myself wanting to know more about this couple I’d never met.
After church, we went to my great aunt and uncle’s house where they had prepared us a feast for lunch. They recently celebrated 62 years together – not only are they very dear, but very wise. I’d like to give you an example of just how wise.
While seated across the table from them, Uncle N said, “The secret of a long and happy marriage is always telling each other the Truth. No matter what, even if it’s something the other doesn’t want to hear. When you tell them the Truth, it gives them worth. It verifies they are valuable to you.” Aunt D listened intently while nodding her head in complete agreement. Anyone could see how deep in love they still are, even more so, after all these years.
None of us are perfect, for there is but One that is. The trivial things in life are really that – trivial. I see it as black and white, really; the things that actually matter in life are just plain common sense. I believe a couple should respect each other enough to abide by Truth together. I’ve never understood what could be so hard about that.
From the very beginning K and I each made Truth a requirement, not an option. Sure, sometimes it’s going to be something hard to say or hear. Some of these things can and will cause hurt. But if you repeatedly withhold that Truth, deprive a person of it – you’ll see what you have left in the end…
I love my drive in to work. It’s nineteen miles one-way, but well over half of it is through pure country. God’s country. We google-earthed it just to get an aerial…
The land seems to be evenly split between farming and livestock, and the people who live out here have been here many years. There are plenty of sweet-faced little cows and horses to gaze at along the way.
Sprawling fields of fresh haystacks never cease to mesmerize me – all stacked so perfectly.
Immediately surrounding us is a good-enough sized mountain to climb if we wish, which we have on occasion. In the evenings, we’ll sit outside and listen to the cows call their babies home. When I first heard it I was very concerned, thinking the cows were in pain! Keith had that sly grin on his face when he told me what it really was.
Last night a neighbor had a get-together across the street. I got to meet a lot of Keith’s neighbors, which was nice! All are down-to-earth people who seem really genuine, hard-working and true.
I always wanted to live out ‘away’ from the city – in fact I used to yearn for it, especially during a country drive. It already seems as though I’ve lived here a long time!
For an enhanced viewing experience, ⬆ just click the play arrow above!
Well… it looks like my time is up here…
I’ll never forget you, my little tree house in the sky. It seems as though you’ve cradled me for a long time. The roots of my initially terrifying journey to find myself began with you. As I felt everything outside was crumbling around me, from the many mistakes I made to the letdowns I endured – you always kept me safe within your walls. The past three years you’ve seen every bit of me. Sadness, joy, anger, surprise, frustration, loneliness… all of it. Soon, I hope there will come another person to live here – perhaps one not so unlike me. Someone who is also in need of comfort, safety and tranquility.
Thank you for letting me call you HOME for awhile. Just as I always expected, it’s hard as hell to say goodbye.
Shhhh… remember, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end. You just hold your head up now, Bon – and go on home.
(sniff) *nod*… Yeah. Be seein’ ya.
How I’ve missed my little blog – both reading others and writing them. Things have been extremely busy my way with moving, and I can’t wait to reaccustom myself to a more permanent schedule once again. I thought it would make everything easier having 2+ months to pack, get everything out and clean… but it seems as though I’ve been going back and forth now for way longer than I should! I’m finally convinced doing it all in one day is the way to go.
All weekend we worked over at my place and now, thankfully I can say I’m pretty much done. I still have to get the washer/dryer out to store for my daughter and find a home for my couch. K has worked his rear off the entire time, and cleaning should now be a cinch since the place is now empty! I did happen across a most precious commodity (ahem) for my cat Camille, that made her very very happy.
Meet my mousse! (Mousse because Mademoiselle Camille has always pronounced the word in French.) The Little Girl has been reunited with her long-lost BFF who has been MIA for at least a year and a half. Maybe longer. How old is this thing, you ask? Oh, I realize it looks like it was resurrected from the caveman era. But to Cam… it’s a thing of sheer beauty. A huge basket full of toys is no match for this one item sent straight from Heaven. She’s carrying her baby around again while talking, then dropping it for daddy to play fetch. She is one Happy Girl.
A view of the front of Keith’s. Note: it now comes complete with it’s own set of nightlites located in bottom left window…
I actually went to type a blog out last night, and in addition to all the nerve-wracking hustle and bustle of moving noticed my mouse (MY mouse, one S) was all but operable. I had to go out and purchase another one after work today. I guess I’ve been behind-the-times until now, because I’ve always had a corded mouse. At last I made the ‘jump’ and opted (pardon the pun) for a ‘new improved one’. That is, one that is non-corded.
Left: old one… Right: new-improved (non-corded) one. My hand hardly knows what to do with something so very small in comparison – but I’m finding it ever-functional.
So who gets the points on the cat’s eyes being covered up??
Recently, a friend of mine posed a question that captured my attention – so much so, that I decided to grab the question by it’s hand and take it for a little walk.
Have you ever worked a puzzle only to find that when the pieces start coming together you start seeing a picture you really don’t want to see?
Why yes B, I have. In my own life, there have been times where I spent much longer on a puzzle than I should have. Times where I tried hard to convince myself there were no missing pieces, or pieces that neither fit nor belonged. An imperfect puzzle, if you will. Admittedly, there were times where I would ‘cheat’, having shaved a bit off here and there in hopes I would make a piece fit. To make the puzzle whole.
Weird as it may sound, starting a brand new puzzle can be a difficult and trying thing. Here you have all these tiny little pieces with no real beginning. Just like anything that’s worth the effort – it requires effort. Slowly, intricately, you embark on a journey of building something whole from a thousand little scattered pieces. You set aside pieces that might match up later, or have a similar color/pattern. You take mental snapshots of different shapes. Slowly, methodically… it begins to form.
Upon completion of an intact puzzle, your patience and perseverance is hopefully rewarded with something pretty or at least pleasurable to look at – not something ugly. So what happens when you work halfway through a puzzle then begin to see something unspeakable taking form? Your first notion might be to push the thought of it away – it simply couldn’t be. You work through a few more pieces, and oh –
Couldn’t be. Hope it’s not…
Maybe the situation’s new to you and you’re shocked. Perhaps you’ve been there before and aren’t. Or, could be you’ve been there before, but you’re still shocked. You may ask yourself, how could something you’ve worked that hard on, invested that much time in – turn out to be a picture of something you don’t want to look at, for whatever reason.
Just a day in the life of a jigsaw.
After more storms whisked through the south the night before last, the current estimated time of power restoration has been moved from 5pm last night to 5pm tonight. What’s up with the south and all these destructive storms this year? The thunder, lightning, wind and rain of this storm out-did all other storms so far. Even the hailstorm didn’t have these kind of damaging winds and lightning… it only pounded things into oblivion. We’re supposed to get more storms through Tuesday, so I guess it’s time to batten down the hatches.
Thank goodness I still have my apartment, albeit one with no bed. It does still have a/c (a must in the south in May) and cable tv (a must since it was Survivor night and I’ve never missed an episode). With these two amenities calling us, Keith packed up a few things and our spoiled kitty Camille, and met me over at my apartment. He even thought to bring my bp meds – whatta guy that man is. 🙂
I must admit that I was a little sad I’d unknowingly spend my last night in my apartment last Thursday night. We’d decided to carry my bed over on a whim last Sunday, meaning there was no ‘reflection time’ assigned to my last night spent there. This power outage was a hidden blessing. I found it only befitting that I got to spend just one more night there, with both my man and my little animal. So the palette on the floor did just fine.
My friend Shawn over at Happy Publishing posted this today. Although it’s been around a while, it’s a few great reminders of how to make the world a little more livable. I found it more than worthy of a repost.
- Do not contradict people, even if you are sure you are right.
- Do not be inquisitive about the affairs of even your most intimate friend.
- Do not underrate anything because you do not possess it.
- Do not believe all the evil you hear.
- Do not repeat gossip, even if it does interest a crowd.
- Do not jeer at anyone’s religious belief.
- Learn to hide your aches and pains under a pleasant smile; few care whether you have an earache, headache, or rheumatism.
- Learn to attend to your own business – a very important point.
- Do not try to be anything else but a gentleman or a lady; and that means one who has consideration for the whole world, and all races.
This past weekend was one of the most awesomely relaxing weekends in a long time. Did I mention it was a three-dayer? It started Thursday night (I had taken Friday off for the Royal Wedding). Keith had to drag my a** out of bed at 4am to see it – honestly I would’ve missed it if he hadn’t. It was my first attempt at a ‘live-tweet’ for an event such as this… I realize this is very minute to most people, but I can reflect back on it myself and smile. That’s the big thing for me – the memories.
Watched a couple movies recommended by a friend this weekend, both older but awesome.Red Dawn with Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen, and Double Jeopardy with Ashley Judd and Tommy Lee Jones. I can’t say I was blown away by Red Dawn, primarily because it was compared to Shawshank Redemption, which I thought it not even close. Shawshank is EPIC and an all-time fave of mine. But Double Jeopardy – just wow. I could definitely watch that one again.
Saturday we bought some flowers and such for the yard, and spent a good bit of time arranging and planting them. We have a couple of ferns hanging from the porch now and a gorgeous Calibrachoa hanging basket (the flowers look like vibrant mini-petunias). My bright idea was to make a little flower bed surrounding the mailbox at the end of the yard, and we decided on begonias for this. It’s sparse right now, but it’ll grow… Keith’s sister even joked that it must look like a girl is living here now. 🙂
Today there was finally a televised NYY game on – they’re very rare. After a couple of hours of sun, we both opted for a late-afternoon nappiepoo game-front. I love afternoon naps. If the opportunity would present itself a little more often, trust me I would partake. There’s just nothing better – well, almost nothing better.
Finally, today K and I opened a forgotten carton of strawberries we’d gotten at the store Friday… and noticed a label that read “Limited Edition – Fresh California Strawberries”. Being that I’m very attentive to labels, it caught my attention. Limited Edition, seriously? Strawberries? Upon washing, slicing, sprinkling with sugar and sampling, we were looking at each other with owl eyes and saying WTF? Those were the best strawberries I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my mouth. (Taking note that I never even ate a strawberry until 2.75 years ago when my friend Lori and her son Matt fed me one at a farmers market.) Still… earthshatteringly delectable; blogworthy for sure.
This back and forth stuff between my place and Keith’s is taking it’s toll on me. There’s so much to be done before I move! K suggested this weekend just going ahead and bringing my bed over (going in a middle room) this way I can’t go back there to sleep during the week. My reasoning for not doing this is I’ll never get packed if I’m not there at night to do it. Now – my mind is recalculating. I pass right by my place anyway to and from work, it might actually work better. I made the decision a week ago for Camille to reside with him instead of toting her back and forth – she’s had a year and a half of that and that’s enough. Hmmm. If I said the word, that gorgeous man would be right over with a truck to load up my bed sporting a big smile. So is it really that hard of a decision for me?
Oh yeah, and bin laden is dead. Supposedly. I’ll save all that for another time, another place… another blog.
Well, the big day has finally arrived! The Royal Wedding will take place in less than 24 hours. I must ask beforehand that you forgive the sarcastic undertone of this post. You see, for the past couple of weeks I’ve heard more than my share of negative comments and opinions about the Royal Wedding – in turn, this has propelled me into smartass-Bon mode (not good). Allow me to elaborate.
The original title of this post was “Asses that attempt to ruin Royal Weddings“. I have since changed it, but still thought it noteworthy. I didn’t change it because I no longer believe negative people to be asses… I changed it because I didn’t want the word to be in the same sentence as Royal Wedding. So there. (Negative people – that means you’re still an ass.)
Additionally, I will make it my mission to overuse the words Royal Wedding in this post. If this offends you, know that I find that awesome. Now, on to more talk about the Royal Wedding. Because I can.
Most of the posts I see are so very redundant. If you’re so bored and ‘over’ the Royal Wedding, must you use your precious time to talk about it? By doing this, aren’t you allowing even more ‘air time’ to the Royal Wedding? Here’s some food for thought: posting comments of how sick you are of the Royal Wedding translates into how very intriguing and appealing it must be to you. If you’re truly sick of the Royal Wedding, why not simply change channels or read on to something else? Or perhaps there’s something deeper going on than meets the eye, other than the Royal Wedding. (Hey, how am I doing on that overuse thing?)
Here’s my comparison: when the college ball games were all going on a few weeks back, that entire series of games seemed to last for about a year. I know for a fact that I’m not the only person who doesn’t follow or care for it. But I absolutely would not post on Twitter, FB, ABC News, etc.: “No one gives a s**t about college basketball!!” It would be ridiculous. Why? Because yes, people do exist that give a s**t about college basketball.
Well, so what? It’s my status or comment, and I’ll post what I want! Isn’t that the purpose of it all? Freedom of speech, baby – take it or leave it. I choose to take it. So back off.
Okay, yeah it IS your comment. As far as freedom of speech, I beg to differ – we do not have anything of the sort here in America. There’s only a handful of things we may blurt out without risk of offense to others. If we do say something inappropriate we get blasted for it, or even worse, sued. Freedom of speech, pfftthh – sore subject with me. I’ll save that for another post to be listed in the category The Angry American. Coming soon to a blog near you.
Okay Bon. So what’s your point? If it’s my post and I can write about what I want, and I want to write about how much I hate all the hype of the Royal Wedding, what the heck IS your point?
Here’s my bottom line. Very rarely do we the people get the opportunity to enjoy anything good on the news. Everything is terrorism, war and soldiers dying, missing people, rape, murder and catastrophic weather events. The Royal Wedding is a bright spot in the midst of a storm – dare I even say it brings a ray of light and hope to many. I realize that women tend to be more susceptible to swoon over a fairytale romance, but I also know of quite a few men who appreciate it too. Not swoon over it, mind you – but appreciate it. Who couldn’t use an extra serving of love?
I guess everyone’s got something to say about something – this just happens to be mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to enjoy a fantastic Royal Wedding with the haters left scurrying behind me. Cheers!!
Amidst the daily life struggles, including controversy, drama and in-general mean and miserable people – there is a bright spot I have looked forward to for some time now. An event in which I’ve taken the entire day off from work to enjoy watching.
I’ve always enjoyed reading other people’s comments when it comes to a subject of interest. Over the past few days, a good many comments astound me. The British Monarchy’s facebook page created an event for the Royal Wedding. How about such negative comments on that as “I’ll bet 79% couldn’t give a toss about the wedding” or “So sick of hearing about this, move on to something else already.”
Seriously? You’re sick of hearing about it but you’re going to take initiative to write about how sick of it you are? That takes precious time, my friend! Newsflash – you liked the British Monarchy’s facebook page to begin with… what do you expect to read about?? The news channels are the absolute worst. Every time something is posted about the Royal Wedding, negative comments come flooding in. Have the majority of these les miserables really become so curmudgeoned to the daily routine of life that they are unable to appreciate a good love story anymore?
Maybe it’s just me, but that’s how I see it – and such is life. As for me, this old romantic shall remain upbeat and continue to appreciate a monumentally happy event. After all, who couldn’t use a little happiness?
K was supposed to get his daughter over the weekend. In talking to her last night, she told him she really wanted to spend time with her boyfriend. Although he was disappointed, he told her sure. He understands what comes first in a 14-yr old girls life – friends and boys. It’s not been so long ago that my own daughter was that age, and once upon a time I was that teenager, too.
I understand that K and his ex had a difficult divorce. I’m also well aware of how she kept his daughter from him for almost 2 years of her life, and how much he missed her. When all is said and done, a 2-year wedge is hard to remove. What I don’t understand is this. WHY can’t parents share a common ground when it comes to the child they supposedly love so much? To me, it’s selfish – plain and simple. I’ll say it again because it very much bears repeating – SELFISH. It accomplishes nothing but hurting your child. An example, you ask? Well, here ya go.
Last year, Keith, his daughter, my daughter and I went to the local theme park. That same day he was sweet enough to buy all four of us season passes for the following (2011) year. Since we live so close, he figured it a great investment for an entire summer of fun. While on the phone with his daughter last night, she mentioned that her mother was getting her a season pass. K asked why, that she already had one and didn’t need it. She replied that her mother wasn’t going to let her bring her pass to his house when it was ‘his weekend’. He said, ‘but you won’t have to, because you’ll have the one I bought you – why would you need two passes?’ She never could really answer why. You see, he has no problem with her using her pass whenever she wants… that includes when she’s at home with mom. It’s hers. He bought it for her unconditional use. Apparently, mom’s rules are a bit skewed.
I can only go by past antics, but when ‘his weekend’ rolls around his daughter might show up with no pass (the one he bought) because mom won’t allow her to bring it.
Rule #253… no fun allowed at dad’s, ever.
So now what? Will K be forced to keep the pass at his house, so she’ll have one when he gets her for the weekend? Seriously… what benefit could this whole thing possibly have for their daughter? More importantly, what lesson could it be teaching her?
Aside from the obvious… how about ‘how to waste money the most economical way possible’? Yeah. Hats off to ya there.
Recently I came across a video that made quite an impression on me, and I’d like to share it with you this morning. Most of you already know that I’m one of the world’s biggest romantics. In fact, I thought I might be the biggest – up until now.
If you haven’t seen this… please take a few quiet minutes and check it out. It’s filled my heart with such joy. The story of Danny and Annie Perasa — how they met, and how they stayed in love for twenty-seven years — continues to inspire those who hear it. You can read more about them here.
And yes, this kind of love is still out there. Amazing.
We’ve all been caught in an embarrassing position. A scene that, much to our chagrin, turns us red quicker than a freshly boiled lobster. Being caught in a sticky situation makes you wish you could just melt away from it… oh, if it were only that easy.
At this point, I find it very comical that the subject of my last post was about a wedding.
A week ago, my boyfriend’s dear aunt passed away. I never had the pleasure of meeting her, a real shame since I’ve heard many people speak so very highly of her. Realizing a funeral isn’t the optimal situation to meet your boyfriend’s family members, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to meeting a few that were coming in from out of state.
In the last few moments before we left, we were saying our final goodbyes. From the beginning, there’s been nothing but positive input and vibes from his family – always making me feel so welcomed. Then, here it comes. (Folks, it took me such by surprise that I can’t remember the exact words used… so I’ll do my best to paraphrase.) Something was asked about how long K and I had been together, to which I replied going on two years now. The conversation ensued from there…
Family member: Oh, you ought to just go ahead and get married.
Me: *red*red* **oh, hail, miss brightass-red** I look over at said family member, shaking my head ever so slightly left-to-right in attempt to avert the subject (wondering which direction my dear K’s sight was aimed as well). I also mouth a NO. Unfortunately, I now realize that this mega-defensive act was likely perceived as a sign that old Bon never again wishes to wed… which of course isn’t the case.
Family member: Oh c’mon… you know you want to!
Me: *screaming to myself on the inside, ‘WHAT DO I DO??’* So I stammer: ohhh… well – we ARE moving in together this summer… **another desperate attempt to thwart said subject matter** (Immediately I realize I could not have picked a more inappropriate time to mention our moving in together… a family funeral, of all things.)
Ugghh… another epic Bon FAIL.
The truth is, I have very strong feelings on the subject. A couple of my close friends feel the same as I do, for very valid reasons. In another lifetime many years ago, I was the first to ‘suggest’ marriage with my now ex-husband – I was two months with child at the time. As the years went along, many of our arguments would result in him ‘reminding’ me of this. Trust me when I say these instances never added any valuable building blocks to the relationship – instead it only allowed hurt and embarrassment to grow and fester within me. The backlash of a southern ‘shotgun wedding’ via the good old Justice of the Peace in York County, SC seemed to always be on the forefront of his mind.
Never again. This is something that can make you feel unworthy for a lifetime.
No, if it ever happens again, it won’t be coming from my mouth. I made a pact with myself a long time ago that I’d never utter words that even hint of it – no siree Bob. Besides, why would I need to when others do it for me?
I did it… I indulged myself. Call me crazy if you will, though I personally prefer the word romantic. This past Monday, I put in for a vacation day on April 29th. This is the date of the Royal Wedding.
Having had ancestors that hailed from Wales, as well as certain parts of Scotland and Ireland, the Royal Family has always held a special place in my heart. Truth be told, in my own lifetime, I believe it all started with Diana. Of course it started with Diana. Was there a person in existence who didn’t love her? She was the epitome of grace, dignity and beauty – with a kind and caring heart. Her tragic death was a blow to the world.
I’ll never forget where I was when I heard the news. My husband, daughter and I were at the beach celebrating our tenth anniversary. That dreaded news, which we’d stayed up late in apprehension of, came during the wee hours of Sunday morning. I had to wear shades to hide my hideously swollen eyes for the remainder of the trip. These memories are still as fresh as if they’d happened just yesterday.
On his eighteenth birthday, Prince William received from his grandmother a new coat of arms, or crest. He chose to commemorate his mother by including a red scallop shell (escallop gules) prominent in the Spencer ancestors’ coats of arms, four times on his – though one must have sharp eyes to catch it. I’ve always loved what we usually refer to as a ‘sea shell’, but never knew of the association with Princess Diana’s own crest or of the commemoration by her son. I find this so very special.
Prince William and his beautiful bride Catherine Middleton (Kate) will have their own fairy-tale wedding on that last Friday in April. I like to think that Diana will somehow be granted a view of her first-born son and his Princess as they begin their life’s journey together as one.
On March 2nd, the website designed for the Royal Wedding was unveiled. Needless to say, I wasted no time popping that little address into my VIP bookmarklets.
So happy for the two of them…