Being Good at Being Bad....

I intensely dislike, nor do I trust,  perpetually cheerful, self righteous, pious, or overly polite people. It's not normal, not to mention aggravating, to be all sunshine and rainbows all the damn time. It's unnatural, and in some instances, unholy.  Nothing is more frightening than that person who oozes charm and poise even in the most unnerving situations, their fake ass smile beaming brightly in an attempt to quell panic, or ease tension.  It just makes me want to slap the living shit out of them.

All humans have a dark side, and I realize mine has a tendency to be just a smidge darker than most, and I'm okay with that. Honestly, I sometimes enjoy the hell out of it. It can be quite fun, and useful when someone truly deserves to experience it.  Of course not everyone can maintain a healthy balance between their light and dark sides, leading to much of the violence, and evil in this world, but there are those who cannot even acknowledge the less savory side of their own nature, much less in others. When you hear someone say, "Why I would never act like that!", nine times out of ten that is just a damn lie. Not a soul on this earth hasn't had a moment in life when they desperately wanted to yank that Pollyanna stick out of their butt and knock somebody's ass off with it! True, it's not always prudent to act on emotion, although as a result of doing so, it's often possible to come out better asking forgiveness instead of permission. When you think about it, what idiot in their right mind, no matter how much they've provoked it, and deserve it, is going to say, "Oh please cuss, and beat me like the dirty, sorry bastard I am!"

Now, I'm not advocating total anarchy here, or losing all control, I'm trying to make the point that it's important to KNOW your dark side, because when you embrace that aspect of your nature, you know your limits, and where you need to draw the line. When you are fully aware of just how ruthless, ugly, and hateful you can truly behave, it's easier to rein that in when you most need to. If you just skip through life blowing sugar coated BS up your behind and everyone else's, you're going to experience a great deal of disappointment in yourself and others. By accepting that we all have an evil inner twin, and tempering that with the goodness, and warmth of our humanity, (of course there are some who only project a facade of goodness and warmth... beware!), we are capable of managing an even keel between the two. It's a matter of self truth, and being honest about who you truly are, because faking sweetness and light can only last for so long, and eventually your true nature will shine through, and no amount of niceness will cover up just what a shit you really are.

In general I sincerely believe the majority of humanity is inherently good, and that good will always triumph over evil. I believe that even in the darkest hour, even the weakest among us can prevail through the good will of our fellow mankind. The reality is,  that while none of us are perfectly good, some of us are good at being bad, some are bad at being good, some are better at being good, and a small portion is just evil to their core. I do think religion plays a role in making us behave better than some, and more so than others, but when you get down to it, it really is up to the individual, as to how bad or good, one honestly cares to be.

The Misery Eaters

Most of you know that I am not one to sugar coat the truth, although contrary to popular belief I do try to be tactful. Although my "it is what it is" philosophy is widely shared, there is a select few that find it irritating, and I've only recently realized why.  There are certain people in this world who are so self absorbed they can't see past their own misery, which is usually self inflicted. They thrive on their own selfishness, and generate toxic feelings that feed their need for constant drama.  I call them misery eaters.

Misery eaters are not only selfish, but they are devious, and excel at subtle manipulation.  They are always down and out, and nothing is ever their fault. These people LOVE turmoil, and just slurp up any and all negativity like bottom feeders. They enjoy playing mind games, and are artists at turning the tables in a confrontation or conflict. Nothing anyone does for them is ever enough, and when their shit stirring antics backfire, it's never their fault. Of course they try to make themselves look like the victim at this point, usually by throwing the hapless dumb ass who tried to help them under the bus.

We have all known or dealt with a misery eater(s). They can be friends, family, and co-workers, or just random people you have to interact with. These are the people you try to avoid, unless they are a friend or family member. Friendships/ relationships with a misery eater can be rather tiresome because you can never be sure if that person is sincere. They are the type who tries to one up everyone on everything, good or bad, and they are masters at schadenfreude, meaning they derive pleasure from others misfortune. Not only will they revel in your tragedy, they will quell any attention you might gain from others when experiencing good fortune, as they are also jealous since in their mind nothing nice or good ever happens to them.

Of course, these people in all honesty, are usually extremely blessed, but are too blinded by their selfishness, and abject shitty attitude to comprehend just how much they have to be grateful for and appreciate.  Misery eaters are the kind of people you can never to too nice to, because they find it impossible to appreciate,  and being mean to them just proves to them that they are justified in feeling like the worlds scapegoat. So, now you might be wondering if there is a cure for this malady, as it does affect millions around the globe. Is there a special technique for handling misery eaters? Other than strict avoidance, or just telling them to kiss your ass, there isn't much you can do about such people. I personally think misery eaters suffer from a medical condition commonly known as Rectal Optosis. This occurs when the optic nerves somehow (probably at birth) get crossed up the rectum, thus resulting in a shitty outlook. Hopefully modern medicine will find a cure.

Match Game 2013 or Mystery Date?

Most of you already know I've thrown my hat back into the dating ring, and I can honestly say, dating over 40 has kicked my ass!  At first I tried online dating with Plenty Of Fish, because it's free. Well sometimes you get what you pay for. I wasted the better part of last year on an unappreciative, angry, depressed, selfish, rude, ill-mannered, cold hearted, douche bag with an over inflated ego.  Needless to say I did go out with a few others I met, but none of them were the catch of the day.

In spite of the many throw backs I caught with Plenty of Fish, I did meet some super nice guys, who have turned out to be very dear friends of mine. But, after several encounters with scrubs, I decided to listen to Phil Robertson.. Scrubs are OUT!, and I deleted my POF account.  That lasted through the Holidays, and as January 2013 waned, I decided to conduct somewhat of an experiment, so I ponied up for a three month membership on Match.com. Perhaps if men have the funds to purchase a dating site membership, they will have more going for them than a nasty attitude and empty wallet.

Now, I am honest as the day is long, so I make it clear I am NOT super model skinny, but more of a built for comfort not for speed kind of gal. All of my photos are current, and I don't pretend to be someone I am not. My first foray into building a relationship helped me find my backbone again, and I made it clear in my profile that I am not one to tolerate disrespect, drama, or suffer fools gladly. I am not your average female.  Apparently men like wide bottomed, big boobed redheads, with attitude, because within the first 24 hours of posting my profile/photos, my page was viewed 1000 times. Don't think I'm bragging here, because I'm not stupid enough to believe I am all that. I figure I've either attracted a stalker, or all those hits are guys curious to see just how fat my ass really is, and if the boobs look real or not.

So far, I've gone on one actual date, which was really just meeting for drinks, but he's a nice guy, and like me he isn't wanting to get remarried or shack up, but rather hoping to find a monogamous partner to spend time with enjoying shared interests. Sounds simple right? Sounds like the easiest thing in the world doesn't it? Are you kidding me?  Online dating over 40 is somewhat like a game show... First you spin the wheel, then you take a chance and either choose whats behind door number three, or curtain number one, and hope you don't end up with a Zonk! So far, it's been Zonks 1 Nancy 0, but I do believe my luck is changing. After all, all I had to do to find Moe was walk into a dive ass honkytonk on the Livingston Parish line. If I can find true love once, who knows where/when I might find it again.

Resolutions Revelations and Revolutions

Three days into the new year, and so far so good. 2013 has been pretty uneventful so far, and in some ways I hope it stays that way. Although I didn't realize it at the time, 2012 brought some major changes in my life, some were better than others, but overall most were pretty positive.  I think it's important to review the outgoing year in order to make better resolutions for the new year.  Well, I sat down last night and dissected all the events of 2012 that impacted me personally, and those events that made us all stop and take note. After analyzing what I'd gleaned, I took my revelations, and revamped some resolutions, and therefore began my personal revolution.

First and foremost, I believe in paying it forward, and performing random acts of kindness. It's just a couple of many things that keeps good triumphing over evil. Yes, I got burned badly by someone I'd called my dear friend for twenty plus years, but that didn't prevent me from helping another friend when they needed me.  What that ordeal did teach me is to trust my gut instinct when it comes to people, and to listen when that little inner voice says, " Aw hell no, Nancy!! Are you that damn stupid?"  As a nation we have recently learned that there is great evil in the world, and no place, nor any of us, are completely safe. But, we also know from past experience, that good or bad, when the unexpected happens, we pull together to help one another. This year, I'm resolute in my decision to have zero regrets, yet be available when I can offer help where it's needed,  therefore I am resolving to pay closer attention to my instincts.

I have a good heart, and when I love someone, I love honestly, unconditionally, and I give it my all. My first dating relationship since being widowed taught me quite a bit about the woman I truly am, and the woman I never want to be... EVER.  I allowed some things in that relationship, that I never would have tolerated pre Moe. But I realized being truly loved by such a good man like Moe, really did make me a better person. Moe also set a standard which helped me realize I deserve so much more than what I was accepting from the new relationship. This man and I are still good friends, because there is no point in ending a friendship just because it didn't work out romantically, but I won't ever tolerate disrespect, or accept less than what I know I deserve. Understanding that what I want, and expect from a man, isn't always what I need, and knowing I'm better for walking away when I didn't get what I needed was quite a revelation.

I'm not perfect, nor do I want to be, and realizing the things about myself that need improving can be bitter, and unpleasant, but it's what makes me stronger, and better able to accept what I can't change. I've always been a big girl. My whole life my weight has defined me, whether up or down, that is what people see first about me and I hate that. My nickname was Big Nancy for the longest, and I never let on that I despised it like spiders and grin death and it made me feel so fat and ugly. Well, after 46 years, I am who I am, and yes I, just like everyone else,  try to eat healthy and I exercise, and even at my smallest I'm still an amazon. My fat ass does NOT make me Nancy. My personality, spirit, sense of humor, and character make me who I am. For the first time in my life I feel, and KNOW I am beautiful. Sure, I'd like to be slimmer, but I'd rather be healthier, and that is what I'll be fighting for this year. I'm declaring war on poor health, and all the ailments that hold me back from enjoying life more than I already do. My personal health revolution, and I'm going to whip ass and win.

I wish all of you a Happy New Year, and hope and pray your year is  filled with good health, and prosperity.

Broken

Reports of mass shootings are no longer uncommon. The fact that I can even make that statement is somewhat appalling and mind boggling, but it doesn't make it any less true. Have we become immune to such violence? Have we seen so much of it on TV, in movies, news reports, music lyrics, and video games that we are no longer affected by it? I would have answered YES to those questions, before a crazed gunman opened fire in a kindergarten class at Sandy Hook Elementary.  I'm truly saddened and feel guilty that it took such a horrific event, to finally wake us up and realize our society is broken. The question now is just how badly are we broken, and is there any way to repair all the damage that has been done?

Today's society is all about the quick fix. Instant gratification. We can ask why. We can theorize all manner of causes for such an atrocity, and point fingers at firearms, and mental illness. But are we as a society prepared to delve into the honest, raw truth of why and how we have reached such depth of depravity that we no longer value human life above all else?  Have we become so focused on maintaining a level of political correctness that we have devalued teaching our children right from wrong, or to believe in something other than our science and technology. In something other than our own inflated sense of self importance?

Some folks have openly asked where was God? If there is a God, why didn't He stop this from happening? Perhaps the answer we suddenly find ourselves searching for is just as intangible, yet ever present like the God we have deemed politically incorrect, and removed from a society as broken as the lives, hopes and dreams, of 26 innocent people and their loved ones they leave behind. My faith tells me that as little children suffered, and educators sacrificed to save their students, God was there so they were not alone in those last terrible moments. No matter how many turn their lives away from Him, and evict Him from  classrooms, and public buildings, God is always there for us.

 Sure, we can take away all the guns, lock up and vilify all the mentally ill, put armed guards in our schools, but will that fix what is truly broken within us as a society?  Can we come together body, mind, and spirit to work together as a collective whole to atone for our social shortcomings? In this season of hope, let us all take time to look inside ourselves, to stop and allow simple gifts of gratitude, kindness, and concern for one another take precedence over materialism, and selfishness.  Each of us are but one piece of society's whole, and until we heal individually, our society will remain broken and irreparable.

Blessings in Disguise

Tomorrow marks the start of the holiday season, and a time of year I once looked forward to. Now, it simply means I have to avoid the mall crowds unless I care to risk serving jail time. Tomorrow is also a national day of Thanksgiving, a day originated by our forefathers who suffered way more than most of us ever will, and appreciated simplicity. Of course life was much simpler then, much harsher, and although progress and technology have improved one's chances of survival, and longevity, life is still a fragile gift that can be lost in the blink of an eye.

Loss is something we have all felt and dealt with, some more than others, and not always through death. Some of us may mourn not for loved ones, but perhaps a job, or foreclosed home, a friendship ended by betrayal, a broken marriage, or for some sense of self,  spirit,  or peace of mind that is lost or forgotten. When we suffer, we lose sight of our gratitude, and we can't see the simple things that bless our lives when our hearts are darkened by despair. This is why it's important to search down deep and find what I call blessings in disguise.

Blessings don't always present themselves positively, or instantly. Sometimes it takes a while for certain blessings to be revealed, and can be born of tragedy, and heartache. I guess it's cliche' to refer to the glass half empty/full mentality here, but that is a major part of recognizing a disguised blessing. Throughout my life my glass has been both half full, and empty, and at times overflowing and left with nothing but dregs at the bottom. Now, I've finally reached that place in my life where my glass  doesn't have to be half full or empty, just as long as there Maker's Mark in it I'm good. Not saying good bourbon has helped me find my disguised blessings, but it hasn't hindered me either.

I'm sure you are now wondering just what the hell is a disguised blessing, and how do you find them, or recognize them.  Well, I can't really tell you anything specific, because blessings are usually created through individual circumstance, and don't always come to light immediately. But, you have to open your heart, and mind to the possibility of something good coming from something bad. That the negative can have a positive, the balance of good versus evil. My personal example is I found out who my true friends are when my husband died very unexpectedly a couple of years ago. Knowing I had trustworthy friends I could depend on when I needed them most was a huge blessing.  Stop and think about your own, or someone you know, similar situation and I bet you will discover some small blessing in there somewhere.

So, if you are blessed to have family and friends to share Thanksgiving with, or even if you are alone, just stop and remember there is always something to be thankful for, even if it's not right in front of you. Remember that tomorrow isn't promised, and that everything and everyone we take for granted or under appreciate, disregard, and/or overlook today, may just be that disguised blessing you've been waiting, hoping, and searching for.

Plenty of Fish: Hook, Line, and WTF?

If you've ever attempted to navigate the waters of online dating, then you have experienced just how deceitful, and low down some people are. Granted, I have met some very nice guys on plentyoffish.com or POF, who have become very good friends of mine, and maybe one day one of those friendships might become something more. But, in the meantime, here are a few pointers for any of y'all who are considering online dating, or just haven't had any success at finding that special someone, much less a date.

First of all, be honest. I mean honest about everything. For instance, I clearly state in my profile that I not only have a fat ass, but a foul mouth as well, and I'm not one to play games or tolerate bull shit.  That being said, I've given any would be suitors fair warning, thus preventing any complaints of misrepresentation.  Lying about your appearance is pointless anyway, because what are you going to do if/when you meet someone? He/she is going to immediately realize you aren't 6'0", you don't weigh 130 pounds, nor do you have a head full of thick wavy hair.  If you are a large sized man or woman, say so. Post real pictures of yourself. If they like what they see, they will let you know. After all it's what is on the inside that truly matters. Lying about anything else is also foolish, because you can only hide the truth for so long, especially if you end up in a relationship with someone.

Now, you've connected with someone and started emailing, texting, and/or instant messaging, and maybe even chatting on the phone. Please, please, please remember your manners, engage your social skills if you have any, and for the love of Pete, DO NOT send anyone any photos of any body parts!!! Dear Lord, why do some men think I want to see their damn pecker before I actually see their entire body in person?  REALLY? I don't care how big it is, or proud you are of it, sending me a photo of your junk right off the bat, will not only get you laughed at, (by me and several of my girls) but you will never, ever have to worry about talking to me again, much less meeting me. Another no-no in this category is initiating sexual conversation, or injecting sexual innuendos or comments into a conversation the instant you start talking to someone. It's unnerving, disgusting, and you just don't know me like that you nasty bastard!

After hours of communicating via computer/phone, it's time to finally meet each other in person. Sure, you've shared quite a bit with this person, and you feel like you know them very well. That's fine and a very good thing, but once again, please use some measure of discretion, and don't immediately assume it's okay to pounce on somebody the moment you meet them. Personal space must be respected at all times, so grabbing your just met new love interest, and jamming your tongue down their throat might come across as just a little too enthusiastic. Also, during the course of that first date, keep your hands to yourself unless otherwise invited. It's nice when a man places a hand at the small of your back to help guide you, or gently takes your hand to help you, but if he begins your date by constantly trying to stroke your arm, rub your back, or generally pet you like a cat or dog, you might want to talk about personal space, and set some boundaries. If that doesn't seem to deter him, just do what I've done when politely declining such attention. Just casually smile, pick up your dinner fork (any sharp object will work) and in your sweetest tone of voice tell him you are going to jab him dead in the ass with it if he doesn't stop pawing at you.  Either he'll get the hint, or leave the restaurant with rather impressive puncture wound.

Well, I hope this simple advice will provide some of you with the confidence and insight to get out there and find the love of your life. If nothing else I hope you've learned what not to do on a date, and how to behave in a way that will attract, and encourage romance to develop. Of course, all I can do is tell you how to act when you meet someone new, it's up to you not to keep dating psychotic, nut jobs. After all, you picked them!   

Help! Captain Save A Ho!

My father once told me I would always be single because I'd never find a man with more balls than I have.  Well, it took awhile, but the right man with a bigger pair eventually found me, and we were happy until he passed away after five years of unconditional love. Now that I'm dating again, I'm finding dear old dad's statement to be truer than I'd like it to be, but I'm not real sure what, if anything, I can do about it.

After recently being told by a man I was once romantically involved with that, "You're like a man with titties", I had to take a step back and truly look at myself to understand just why he would say such a thing.  True, I'm not a prissy or fake type of female, but I try to take good care of myself, and Lord knows I'm a perfume, make-up, and accessories whore! I love pretty clothes and dressing nice, and you will rarely see me out and about looking unkempt. But, I know my football, love the outdoors and camping, hiking, fishing, and can out cuss any sailor, although I am very nurturing, a helluva good cook, and as a whole quite domesticated. My daddy made sure I know how to shoot, and handle fire arms safely, and I recently took the class to get my permit to carry concealed. I am not the damsel in distress type, and I can manage on my own when it comes to car maintenance, and minor repairs. I try to deal with life's unpleasantness with grace, and composure, and I know how to be a lady when I need to be one. I've been told I'm a strong woman based on the way I've handled myself during the really tough times I've experienced, so why does that make me less than feminine? Is it because I won't tolerate mistreatment, or poor behavior? Is it because I stand my ground, and demand respect?

I've always been more of a blue jeans and sweat shirt, than high heels and dresses type of gal, and after many years of struggling with my weight, I'm finally comfortable with being a plus size, and curvaceous. I like going to the gym, and staying active, and I'm much more self confident now at 46 than I was 20 years ago. So, why are men my age intimidated, or turned off by confidence, wisdom, and independence? Is it possible to be too honest? Should I pretend I need Captain Save A Ho to swoop in and rescue me? What the hell would he rescue me from?

I guess when I look at the overall picture, I like me just the way I am, and I'm not going to start acting like some simpering candy ass, poor little ol me type to attract or keep a man. If a man isn't attracted to me for being smart, sexy, funny, and down to earth, and/or expects me to change to suit his needs without taking my needs into consideration, then he is not the right man for me. Sorry Captain Save a Ho.... I can be my own super hero.

What It Isn't

We all know, understand, and sometimes struggle to accept one of life's most simple truths... It is what it is. But do we really know what "IT" is? I sure as hell don't, but I do know what it ISN'T.

Life isn't fair. At least it seems that way. Not one person in this world can honestly say they have never asked "Why me?".  Why can't I find real true love? Why can't I be rich, successful, smart, funny, pretty, skinny, famous, talented, brave, tall, older, younger, wiser, better.....? Why? Why do loved ones have to die? Why do people have to be so horrible, and evil? Is it a matter of fact, or perspective? Why?

Life isn't easy. From birth we learn how to survive, how to manage, and cope with all the things that we are exposed to on a daily basis. As we grow from infant into children, into teens, into adults, we are constantly learning, gathering knowledge that will sustain us as we venture out on our own. We are bombarded with information almost 24/7, and as technology advances, we find it harder and harder to shut off, much like machines. It's not easy to relax, because we are continuously processing data that allows is to live our lives in the routines we've established. Earning a living, providing for ourselves, and our families, securing food, clothing, and shelter, which are basic needs, but we want the best of what is basic.

Life isn't predictable. The sun will surely rise tomorrow morning, but it might not shine on all of us.  It's human nature to take the familiar for granted. It's so easy to just assume that person will always be there, and we neglect saying the things that need to be said. We think there will always be time to say I love you, thank you, you are wonderful, beautiful, kind, smart, amazing, important to me, I appreciate you..... the list of course is endless. But life isn't.

Life isn't perfect.  But it's as good as you make it. Right now, I'm learning that with the worst comes the best. After the worst time in my life, I'm at the jumping off place where I have the chance to live the best years of my life. I don't know what's in store for me, or even if I'll live to see another day. But each day that I am given, I am going to enjoy, and yes I am going to have those Why Me days, and hard times, and heart aches, and sorrow. But I also know I will have joy, laughter, good times, and love. That's the beauty of imperfection and what it isn't.

The Fabric of Love

"Love is the fabric which never fades, no matter how often it is washed in the water of adversity and grief." Anonymous

I found this quote yesterday, and it truly hit home. It reminded me of my parent's marriage, and how through some of the most difficult life events, they stuck together, worked together, to make it through rough patches that would have ripped apart weaker bonds. Their love was a very tightly woven fabric, durable, yet warm, and cozy, like a well worn favorite blanket that covered and protected our little family of four.  Even though both Mama and Daddy are long gone, I still find comfort from that blanket.   

The fabric of love isn't always as well knitted, or sewn together as we night hope for it to be, and often times it is pulled apart when two people aren't able to weave together their individual threads. Sometimes, the weaving process can be interrupted by one partner's selfishness, or fears, and incompatibility. Threads have to blend and mesh, and form a tight pattern to remain successfully woven, and not unravel. Loose ends must be clipped, and tied, and all too often weavers aren't willing to make the sacrifices needed to finish the fabric.  True, abiding love doesn't balk at frayed edges, or rough patches that might cause some wear and tear, but it pulls the threads that binds it's fabric together, and mends the damage. 

The fabric of love comes in a large variety of textures. Some are like my parent's, practical, and heavy duty, capable of enduring even the worst of life's wear and tear. Some are light and airy, soft as silk, sheer as gauze, while others are as tenuous as a spiders web, with threads thin and flimsy. What matters most is how the threads are put together to create the material the fabric is made of. The fabric of love is not made from jealousy, or spite. It cannot be woven from disrespect, or spun from deceit, and disloyalty. The fabric of real, abiding love can only be created from threads of honesty, respect, loyalty, commitment, shared hopes, dreams, and goals. Each weaver must be willing to give any, and everything to insure the quality of the fabric, weaving together their hearts, and souls, holding nothing back until the fabric is tightly woven together. It is not an easy, or quick process, but instead a lifelong endeavor.

I was blessed to share such a fabric of love with a very wonderful, talented, goodhearted man, for five sweet years. Sadly, our fabric was only meant to last for a short time, and now Moe is my guardian angel.  Although the fabric I shared with Moe has been folded up, and packed away, and I know I will one day weave a new fabric with a new love, I will always have a few of Moe's threads wrapped around my heart.

Seasons

Just like the seasons change in nature, they change in our lives too. Sometimes it's events, or people, or even both. Tragedies, and tribulations are the winters, triumphs, and joy the spring or summer. Some last longer than others, and some are as fleeting as autumn leaves in the breeze. I've always been a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, that there is a purpose behind the events and people who share the seasons of life with us.

Just as the flowers know when it's time for spring bloom, God knows when the time is right for each season in our lives. He knows when we are at our strongest to handle pain and heartache, and He rewards our faith, and perseverance with love, happiness, and hope. I always thought Moe came into my life during a time when I needed him the most, yet looking back, I now realize I was Moe's for the rest of his life not mine, and I made his last five years his best and happiest. God also knew when it was time for Moe to leave me, and He stuck by me even when I hated Him for the darkest season of my life.

Each life season is a milestone, something to reflect upon, and ponder, then store away as memories from which we've learned valuable lessons. Not all are pleasant, some are as bitter and cold as the deepest of winters, others as bright, and sun filled as the days of summer. But every season we live through and share with another/others is a gift no matter how negative or positive. Each season is a gift because in spite of the sadness that comes with the end of something good, or the relief when hardships fade away, every time our seasons change, we have a new opportunity, another chance maybe, for a fresh new start.

Now I'm in a new season, one of hope, and renewal, a new spring filled with great promise and possibilities. I can't foresee the future, nor do I want to. I've finally learned that one of the greatest gifts in life is living it unknowingly, without regrets, or fear of the unknown. I'm learning that living a good life is more about living in the present, navigating my current season day one at a time. Right now, life is pretty damn good.

Cheating Don't Lie

What makes a person cheat on their spouse, or significant other? Is it because they don't love them anymore but don't have the balls to end the relationship? Are they bored in the bedroom, and afraid to broach the subject for fear of rejection or ridicule? Were they cheated on and seeking revenge by doing what was done to them? Whatever the reason, there is no justification for infidelity, and although it's human nature to crave instant gratification, and make stupid mistakes, cheating tells the truth about a person and their relationship(s) and can't be undone.

In spite of all the variables that drive a person to infidelity, there should be some ground rules for creeping on your boo, and dealing with the fall out when you get caught, because you will get caught. First of all, if you are going to cheat, make sure it's with someone who is extremely dog ass ugly, and not nearly as attractive as the one you are cheating on. Why should this matter? From a woman's point of view it really doesn't matter, because she's going to be pissed off , but it can help ease her pain and suffering if she can tell hers friends that she herself is WAY prettier than that nasty ass skank ho her man hooked up with. Even if this is NOT the case at all, when you get caught, and you will, never reveal what your mistress really looks like (I'll explain later).,This gives a woman an easy out if she knows she can't compete because the other woman is a super model. That way the cheater victim can simply call the other woman a whore, and not factor in good looks . 
Women who cheat need to make sure their partner in crime is a broke ass bum, because men aren't that concerned about looks, but instead value their self worth based on their bread winning abilities. Nothing will crush a man's spirit quicker than learning that his beloved has left him for a man with a bigger bank account... size really does matter.

The next rather important rule of thumb when screwing around on and over your better half, is to take your dirty business AWAY from home and family. When your children run out the greet the mail man yelling daddy's home, you've gone too far. Trying to explain why Jr. so strongly resembles they UPS man isn't as easy as it sounds. Further more, no one wants to even think about another man/woman wallowing around in their bed, eating the groceries and watching the cable they pay for. That's just a slap in the face, and rightfully so, will cost you some serious alimony and earn you an ass whipping

The one thing that has always amazed me about cheating is just how emotionally damaging it can be, and the range of individual reactions that occur when the truth finally does come out. I can tell you from personal experience, that nothing hurts more, or can make you feel so dirty and used as finding out that the one person you completely trusted has destroyed the bond you share, not to mention shown a total disregard for your health and safety. Nothing destroys a relationship faster than disrespect, and cheating is the epitome of disrespect. So many times the victim of infidelity wants to blame the person their partner cheated with (hence the reason why you don't want to reveal your booty buddy's true identity), and yes if  that person willingly initiated a relationship with someone they knew was spoken for they are certainly at fault. But, the real fault lies with your spouse or significant other, because it is their duty to say NO in the first place, and that fact is why I just don't think a couple can recover from this major breach of loyalty and trust. Grudge sex is not the answer either, as that just puts you on the same level, making you just as big a cheater, if not bigger than the one who cheated on you!

So, the best advice I can give anyone about cheating on their mate is this... DON'T!!! Oh you can claim you have an open marriage/relationship, or pretend you don't know what's really going on, while everyone else knows your honey is buzzing with another bee, but in the long run cheating doesn't lie. Oh you can try to hang on as long as you think possible, but degrading yourself by clinging to a person who obviously doesn't care, and trying to carry a relationship that has run it's course will only bring you down even further. If you don't love someone anymore, end the relationship, and spare everyone involved the heartache and humiliation. It's the right thing to do, and you will feel better about yourself in the long run.. Unless, of course,  you are some nymphomaniacal pervert, who can't control your hormones, and have to screw around like a three balled tom cat. If that is the case, remain single and invest your time and money in large quantities of KY, carpal tunnel treatment, and unmarked packages wrapped in brown paper. You'll be doing the rest of society a huge favor.

2011 Hell in My Rearview Mirror

Time has a funny way of expanding, and contracting, and folding in around us, as it's measured by a second, minute, day, week, month, year. In the span of time, the beat of a heart, the blink of an eye, our lives can suddenly, impossibly, irrevocably change, and over time we struggle to make sense of the wreckage, gather the scattered pieces of the life we cherished, and slowly rebuild a new life that we must learn to accept, and eventually want to embrace and enjoy.

As I look back over the past twelve months, I find myself bombarded by a range of emotions as I truly realize all that transpired, and I've endured.  2011 began with several first anniversaries that tore at my heart, reminding me of just what I'd lost in 2010. As I survived each milestone in the grieving process, I learned more and more about myself, and as time went by the heartache lessened, and the fear of all things unknown began to ebb. The days crept by, and soon weeks passed into months, and I learned that I was stronger, and more capable than I'd ever thought I would have to be, and decisions were made that even in 2012 could once again change my life forever, hopefully with positive results.

Miss Loubirda Miles from Woodville, MS. once told me something that I've never forgotten, and have turned to quite often. "Baby girl, ain't every day goin be like peppermint candy."  She was right, and some days are always going to be sweeter than others, but it's the sour, bitter days that make them even sweeter. Only time and experience can teach a person that, and it took me the better part of my second year as a widow to relearn it.

 As 2011 unfolded,  I began to absorb, and comprehend the facts about the new life I didn't ask for.  I began to flex emotional muscles that had been left to atrophy while paralyzed by the intensity of my grief, and despair, just in time to face death once again, and offer support to my newly widowed cousin, and her family. Before I knew it the year was coming to an end, and I headed into the last season of 2011, ready to move forward with my new life, feeling more self assured, confident, fearless, capable of dealing with just about anything life sends my way, and believing that love might once again find me.

Now as I write this on the very first day of 2012, I can't help but feel hopeful as I look outside and see the bright sunshine on a beautiful, balmy day. In some way, perhaps today's lovely weather is a sign, a promise of good things yet to come in this brand spanking new year. I stopped making resolutions a long time ago, and just made a concerted effort to try to improve on all levels with the arrival of each new year. This year I am starting a new life , MY LIFE, and I'm resolved to live this new life, on MY OWN TERMS, without any explanation, or approval other than my own. Where hell and heartache once blocked my path, I'm behind the wheel firmly in control, and I'm going to enjoy watching them disappear in my rear view mirror.

Shitty Santa Syndrome

Despite the commercial Christmas blitz of dancing elves, flying reindeer, talking toys, and crappy Christmas music specials, some of us find it hard to be cheerful during the holidays. Although we might try to appear cheery, our glow is not from some inner source of joy but more than likely caused by the hooch in the eggnog, or standing too close to the tree.

Being blue during what most consider the "hap hap happiest season of all" is not easy, and nothing is worse than being made to feel guilty for feeling down in the dumps, especially when emotions, stress, and angst associated with Christmas is at their peak. It's not our intent to dampened anyone's spirit, no one wants to be the turd in the Wassail, and sometimes it really helps to be around others who are merry and bright. Sometimes being the key word. The other end of that spectrum is even worse than the moroseness already felt, and can often create something I like to call Shitty Santa Syndrome.

Shitty Santa Syndrome, or SSS, happens to a lot of people unknowingly. It is often an involuntary response to the jingle madness hype that surrounds Christmas, and can result in rather unpleasant clashes with family, friends, and ultimately destroy relationships, and close knit bonds. The symptoms of Shitty Santa Syndrome vary widely depending on the severity of each individual case and the sufferers reaction to the sensory assaults and overload of the holiday season. While most people who suffer from SSS are perfectly fine the rest of the year, knowing how the onslaught of excessive well wishing holiday revelers can wreak havoc with their emotions, is very beneficial to everyone involved. By acknowledging a person's SSS, you are validating their painful reminders of lost loved ones, and lost family traditions that once made the holidays much merrier and brighter. This is especially important for single individuals who have no children, immediate family, or significant other to celebrate with. Recognizing SSS in an individual is really easy, although all too often SSS symptoms are misconstrued as maliciousness, particularly focusing on gift giving, and social functions.

If someone you know suddenly increases their alcohol intake around Thanksgiving, and doesn't sober up until shortly after New Years, they are more than likely afflicted with SSS. Just because you receive a fruitcake, stale store bought cookies, or fugly as hell sweater does not necessarily mean the gift giver hates your guts, but instead has succumbed to one of the most common symptoms of SSS I like to call, "Mall-itis". Any SSS sufferer worth their bah-humbug wouldn't be caught within a mile of any major retail venue from Black Friday until mid January. Of course, if said person strives to be an asshole at the annual holiday family functions, by making  it a point to get drunk, set fire to the Christmas decorations then piss on them to douse the blaze, SSS might be just a minor mental health issue they are dealing with.

So, this year, if a relative sends your kids subscriptions to Penthouse, or the crazy neighbor displays  Santa squatting over the chimney, stop and consider the possibility that they might actually have Shitty Santa Syndrome. Once the reason for their poor behavior has been established, you can then determine which course of action is appropriate and either open up a can of whip ass on them, or just chalk it up to SSS, and make sure to have plenty of coffee and fire extinguishers at the next family Christmas get together.

I Say MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

It's a free country, therefore we are all at liberty to express our beliefs and opinions openly without fear of retribution, unless you have the gall to wish anyone Merry Christmas.  I don't think any other phrase as been more demonized by the politically correct, than Merry Christmas. Saying F**k on TV is more acceptable than wishing someone Merry Christmas, these days, which says a lot about the direction our society is headed in.

I don't believe in being out right rude, or disrespectful, but there are plenty of other issues that should take a higher priority, than worrying about foisting a "religious connotation" on a possible atheist. If folks were that easily offended, humanity as a whole would have killed itself off centuries ago.  Maybe it's just me, but I can't recall EVER pissing someone off by wishing them Merry Christmas, and I'm sure I've spoken that phrase to several Atheists, Agnostics, Muslims, Buddhists, Jehovah's Witness, Jews, and/or scroodgey assed grumps. I don't get upset when I'm told Happy Hanukkah, or Blessed Kwanzaa, and I'm no fan of Season's Greetings, or Happy Holidays, but I don't get offended when I hear it. I just figure anyone saying it truly believes they are inspiring global unity, or just don't have the balls to say Merry Christmas.

Now I have to admit the commercial aspect of Christmas has gotten so vulgar, I personally find it as offensive as Congress! I think it should be a law that anything smacking of Christmas can not be displayed until the day AFTER Thanksgiving. I'm sure people are smart enough to follow along with the calendar year, and do not to be reminded about Christmas by filling every store with red and green crap before Halloween! Sure it's always beneficial to shop early, but unless it's in reference to someone's sexual activity, I don't care to hear HO HO HO before Gobble Gobble Gobble!

So, I guess what I'm trying to say here is this. Once it's appropriately time to express the seasonal sentiments of the holidays, stop and think before you utter some mealy mouthed PC approved Season's Greetings, or Happy Holidays. Whether or not you believe in the miraculous birth of Christ, you have to admit it's a beautiful story, that over centuries has united enemies, and brought peace where strife once ruled. So, before you negate the phrase to the pits of PC hell, take a deep breath and say right out loud to the next person, friend, foe, or total stranger, MERRY CHRISTMAS! I can pretty much guarantee you will be pleasantly surprised by the response.  After all , I don't think anyone as ever gotten their ass whipped for wishing anyone Merry Christmas, but if you do, well that's what you get for being politically incorrect.

Mirror, Mirror

After perusing the pages of candid camera pics on People of Walmart, I realize there is a horrific shortage of mirrors in this country. If the federal government can provide free cell phones, health care, and housing, why won't they do the entire nation a huge favor and make sure there is at least ONE mirror in every home? After all if a minority of the populace suffers from a major lack of self respect, why should the majority of us have to suffer too?

Everyone makes fashion mistakes, but the key is to learn from them, and adjust accordingly. Yet, thanks to cell phone cameras, and the internet, America has been made painfully aware that when it comes to some folk's wardrobes, and personal appearances, school let out a long time ago.  Perhaps I'm just a stickler when it comes to looking my best. I know I'm a plus sized woman, therefore I strive to dress in a manner than shows off my best features, while minimizing the worst. I don't have any qualms about showing some cleavage, after all if his eyes are on the boobs, he's not paying attention to the train wreck from the waist down.  But, there is a huge difference between flaunting a firm, uplifted bosom, and Holy Shit that lady's got four arms!!!

So, large breasted women of America, lets all try to set a precedent by supporting ourselves first and foremost. Invest in a good, under wire bra, even though it might not be the most comfortable thing you'll wear, I promise you will be UPLIFTED physically and mentally!  Also, remember fashion rule number one: Just because it fits, doesn't mean you should wear it.  Don't let the mental image of how you wished you looked, get confused with your actual visual image. Do yourself and the rest of humanity a favor, check that reflection before you go public sporting a tube top, and booty shorts.

In the long run, it's what's on the inside that really matters, as beauty is only skin deep. But just keep in mind that while outer beauty will never hide inner ugly, it might help keep you out of jail, and off the internet.

The Orgins of Nancyisms

It's often said and pretty much taken for fact that you are a product of your environment. A child's character is shaped by parental role models, and we learn morals, values, and social skills from examples set by the authority figures in our young lives. My parents were exemplary teachers when it came to imparting morals, good manners, and building character, but they have only themselves to blame when it comes to my personality and sense of humor.

So, if ever any of you have wondered why I am like I am, well the following examples of communications as a family from my formative years might explain it, or me, or hell just keep reading...

Me: If I do this and if I do that... If I'm really good, and if we went to this place or that place...
Daddy: If? Well if, if , if, IF my aunt had balls she'd be my uncle!"

Me: I'm gonna run away from home!!!
Daddy: Well, don't let that doorknob bump you in the ass on your way out.

Me: Can I have (something outlandish)? Can I? I want it!
Daddy: People in hell want ice water too! or, Wish in one hand and shit in the other, see which one you get first.

Daddy's response to one of my idiotic stunts: Damn girl I swear if your brains was putty you couldn't fit a window pane in a gnat's ass!!! Another favorite: Hotdamn yougin if you ain't just et up with the dumb ass.

Mama's favorite response to my boasting, or threatened behavior: Yeah right Nancy, and a jazz band of monkeys is gonna jump out my ass and run down Main St. playing Who'd a thunk it!!!

Daddy's response to a sales pitch: If steamboats were selling for a nickle a dozen, I couldn't buy the echo off the whistle.

Daddy's response to dwelling on past mistakes:  Best let it go, hindsight's about as useless as foreskin.
Daddy's opinion of ineptitude, or laziness:  Now you know, (whoever/whatever) is about as useless as tits on a boar hog!
How daddy described his level of pain or illness: I feel like I been shot at & missed then shit at and hit all over!!
Daddy's descriptions of anyone unattractive: She's a melancholy ol` gal... she got a head like a melon & a face like a Collie! or Good God amighty, she/he got face that would stop a clock! also Uh n unh! he/she/they look like two turkey buzzards bumped asses & they're what fell out. and lastly, He/she/they look like they fell out of an "ugly tree" and hit every limb on the way down!

Daddy's descriptions of a nice behind: Hotdamn! When she walks her ass looks like two shoats in a gunny sack! That's what I call a noble ass.
Mama's description of a bad fashion choice:  That looks like ten pounds of shit in a five pound sack.
Daddy's description of a big butt: Kaaawow! I bet I could sit on her ass and dangle my legs!

Daddy's advice regarding our bad behavior:  Listen to dear ol' dad, do that and you better give your soul to God because your little ass is mine!

This list could go on and on, but this should be sufficient for you to gain a better picture of where Nancyisms came from. As you can see, daddy was way more colorful than my mother, but she could come up with some doozies of her own. My sister is also this way, but she has learned to manage hers better. So, if you don't want your daughters to end up foul mouthed, brutally honest, and unashamedly outspoken, stop and think before you show that baby girl what happens when she pulls daddy's finger, it's got to start somewhere, so nip it in the bud.
On November 24th, my dad would be celebrating his 81st birthday were he still here. Happy Birthday daddy, and thank you for my swift wit, sassy mouth, and colorful vocabulary... I think you did a pretty damn good job!

Dear Mama & Daddy, Thanks for Beating my Ass.

Recently, a grown  woman released a video of her father punishing her for stealing, by whipping her butt with his belt. The video became viral, and ended up on the national news as fodder for a child abuse scandal. I don't know this chick who posted it, but I'd say her daddy didn't tear that ass up good enough.

First off, I realize many of you will disagree with me about spanking your children, and I respect your parenting practices, as it's a free country, and they are YOUR kids. But, I can honestly say, looking back at how my parents raised me, I'm grateful for each and every ass whipping I got. We were NOT abused growing up. My sister and I are both hard working, intelligent, law abiding citizens, because mama and daddy instilled the fear of God, and them in us. Nothing was worse than falling from their good graces, and the belt wasn't nearly as terrible as that look JoAnne would give us when she was pissed and disappointed with one of us.

Secondly, I do not condone child abuse, as there is quite a difference between spanking a child and just beating the hell out of them for no good reason. When pushed to levels of rage that probably would have gotten one of us seriously hurt, (don't act like your kids have never pissed you off so bad you wanted to snatch their hair out of their heads!) Mama and Daddy often yelled and threatened, then after calming down they'd wallop us, but never once were we struck on a whim, or in a fit of rage. Growing up, my mother was not my friend, she was the boss, and so was daddy, and they both made it clear that they would not tolerate certain behavior, and we had an obligation to them, ourselves, and society to behave respectably. Rules were rules and set for a reason, and breaking them carried serious consequences.

Now, nothing disgusts me more than hearing a parent just rip on their kid like they are no better than a dog. Sure, mama was famous for telling us, "Do it again and I will slap your teeth down your throat!" Another favorite was, " Nancy, I'm going to slap the snot out of you if you don't quit that!!".  Daddy's favorite thing was saying, "You pull a stunt like that and you'd better give your soul to God because your little ass is mine!"  Nothing is worse than hearing a child berated for sport, and in many ways verbal abuse leaves the deepest scars.   As we got older, the belt was replaced with groundings, and backhands which taught sassy mouthed teenagers quick reflexes, but dodging didn't mean you wouldn't get from the other direction.  We learned that when it comes to respecting your elders and authority, there is no such thing as being "too grown".

Both mama and daddy are gone now, and at age 45 I can truthfully say I've never been in trouble with the law, I've held a job since I was 18 years old, and even now when I know I'm doing something wrong, I stop and think about what my parents would say. I didn't understand or appreciate all of their rules when I was a kid, and naturally I went through the age of thinking my folks were old school morons, but they knew what they were doing. In many ways it's a shame I couldn't have children, because I'd like to think I'd love my kids as much as mama and daddy loved me. But, in today's "spare the rod, and screw the brat up into a dysfunctional train wreck" society, if I had kids I'd get reported to Social Services when they needed to be reminded of just how much I loved them.

Family Planting

Most Southern families argue over inheritances, and the battles for prized heirlooms, and family treasures can get pretty nasty. But in my family, instead of fighting it out over dear old  Auntie Battle Axe's silver and china, my peeps will hurt someone when it comes to burial plots in the Young Family Cemetery.

You see, the strong line of Southern aristocracy from which I hail, descended from the Young's, who received a large plot of land in an area north west of Zachary, LA. known as the Plains. This property was granted to the family as part of the Spanish Land Grant, and had never been farmed.Thus it became the family burial ground, and for damn near two hundred years,  it's where we've been planting any and all kin folks who are directly descended from the original Young's.

Over the years, trips to the family burial place weren't always the result of a death. Taking care of loved ones grave sites is important, and nothing will get you talked about like a dog worse than letting a family members plot go to ruin. I can still recall the remarks overheard as a child made by aunts and uncles about relatives who didn't tend to their plots. "Just look at those raggedy flowers on Aunt So&so's grave. Dollar store if I ever saw any!" Or,"Oooh wee! Look at So & so's grave sinking like that. I hope the mean bastard ain't coming back up. I couldn't stand him when he was alive!" The biggest outrages that provoked the most heated discussions and comments occurred when someone NOT of Young family descent got planted, and God forbid they end up in a blood members already spoken for plot. Of course we didn't spend a whole lot of time visiting the dead, and our trips weren't regular. Mama didn't care to see her oldest daughter buried there. Martha's child sized headstone was a painful reminder of mama's deepest loss, and heartache, but she made sure to honor her passing with a poinsettia each Christmas, mums on November 1st, and an Easter Lilly each spring.

It is part of my heritage and my birth right, to make Young Family Cemetery my final resting place, and honestly I take great comfort in that. It's a lovely place, with towering, majestic, Live Oaks, Magnolias, and age old Woodville Red Camellias. I have never found is scary, or daunting, but rather peaceful and welcoming, as some of the people I adored most in my life are resting there. Each individual has a unique story, some can boast a life well lived to a ripe old age, like my Nana. Others were cut too short by tragedy, or illness, like my sister Martha, and most recently, my cousin John Poole. Already, three of  the five plots daddy inherited have been claimed, and soon Moe's ashes will join mama, daddy, and Martha, in the plot I've chosen for us next to them, beneath a massive oak. I suppose most people find the idea of determining their final resting place morbid, but I consider myself lucky, because I've inherited my place among my family, and even in death, I will remain close to those I loved most in life.

WWRJD... What Would Robert Johnson Do.... .

I'm by no means a hot shot guitar picker, I can't even remember a single chord from when I did play years ago, so I have no instrument to bring to the cross roads. I have no guitar for the Devil to tune, nothing to bargain with, just one lonely, no talented white girl waiting at the cross roads in my life. Waiting just like Robert Johnson, except I have to make my own choices, the Devil can't even offer what I want in this life.

I guess some folks would call it my "jumping off place", that time in your life where you have to make tough choices, and hard decisions. The welcome party to the adult world, for some, a "do over" for others, but for me it's a renewal. I suppose the "cross roads" moment comes much earlier for the average individual, but as time, and my experiences seem to prove... I damn sure ain't AVERAGE.

The choices in life I've made up to this point have served me well, even getting married at age sixteen, and divorced by eighteen, taught me some hard life lessons earlier than most, but that experience came in quite handy down the road. (Fodder for another blog) Looking back I have little if any regrets. Oh sure, I wish I'd been kinder, nicer, and not said some hatelful things to loved ones now long gone, but so does everyone else. It's human nature. But now as I face the future at age 45 without the support system I had back then, and after survivng a period of grief for my husband that damn near took me with him, I am truly my own counsel, and that sounds scary.  But, I've screwed up enough in the past 45 years that failure doesn't really scare me. I've picked myself up and dusted off the bull shit of whatever situation or circumstance that created it, and kept on going. So, standing here at Nancy's cross roads of What Do I Want, and Where Can I Go, is much better than where I was standing 18 months ago at the corner of WTF!? and This Can't Be Real. Honestly, there are way worse things to make decisions about... believe me.

Now, I'm making choices and decisions on MY terms, for MY benefit, and I like that. I feel pretty good about it, and I realize the only thing that might stop me is ME. My own doubts, and fears about a major life altering change, which when I think about it is rather stupid on my part, because I've already experienced three of the most tumultous events a person can go through, so why should I let this next phase rattle me? If I haven't sold my soul to the Devil by now, I reckon there's no reason to sit and wait here anymore. Then again... I wonder what happened to my old acoustic guitar......