Month: July 2017

The Crashing Universe

The Universe (or God…..whatever…blog for another day) is an amazing place sometimes. All the time, really.  I am struck with awe occasionally when things collide providing symmetry to set me straight.

As you may know, I have a short term writing goal…..build public platform, build website and blog, publish the rest of the Hard Compliance series.  I have given myself a year off of job hunting for a new job to pursue this “writing thing.”  I want to see if this fun that I am having will ever buy me a beach house, allow me to quit my job to write f/t, pay for the beautiful Mac I write on….or…..even just a dinner out.  The only way to find out….do it. So that is what I am doing.

In this pursuit….my life has changed. A lot. (see…I don’t always swear….I could have said “a shit-ton” there) it has improved in every single way.  I don’t even hate the job I have as much as I did before I set this goal. I am happier than I have ever been. I am letting go of baggage and weight like I am living in reverse…..like it never even happened.  I feel so free I almost want to get one of those cheesy butterfly tattoos I have always mocked. I have never been so joyous……I totally understand the butterfly tattoo now. Anyway……I had one big WORRY left…..retirement and how to fund it. Or in  my case…..work until the day I die drinking cheap wine.

But, a funny thing happened…..I got so good at getting out of my box that I came up with a new retirement plan. I still want to live on the beach. But, if I can’t afford the beach house…I can afford a trailer and truck. I can sell my house, maybe buy a smaller investment property and live on the road. I could expound….but, another blog I think.

I have gotten pretty serious about completing my writing goal especially now that I may have a viable option for retirement.  Soon.  5 years. Well…you never get anywhere if you don’t set a goal.  Funny thing, as I tell people about my plan…..they don’t listen or ask questions (which is really my whole problem in life anyway) they just immediately start to tell me why this is a bad idea…and they always inevitably ask…what will I do when I’m 80?…Dunno….rest home? Live with a kid? Friend? Drive the car and trailer off a cliff like Thelma and Louise?…For someone who is still excited that she got to stand on a corner in Winslow, Az….might be perfect end.

So….(I’m getting there…promise)……last night a close friend came over. Looking back, I see she was not in a great mood. We had wine. A lot of wine. After she shit all over my retirement plan…..and it is so good and so well thought out…..she said, “your writing is never going to get you anywhere….” at the top of her lungs. While she was flinging wine across the room with her wildly gesturing arms…..okay…I made the last 2 up….but, it is how I still see it in my head.   I was stunned.

When I woke up this morning….I talked myself down….I know my dream may seem weird and unattainable to some. Their futures look different than mine. They have husbands. 2 incomes. Retirement plans. I don’t want to work until I die…..  I know also that most people are so entrenched in their boxes….that they think things have to be done a certain way. (WHY?  WHY? I say.  Another blog.)

I started to read “Happier Than a Billionaire”…..giving me hope for my plan. I was feeling pretty good about my self-talk but, there was some lingering doubt about whether or not I had any chance……(she was so loud and seemed so sure….or, that is what I heard.)

So…..thanks for waiting…..I am almost to my point……

I am cleaning the “desktop” of my laptop….I’m old…..it is where I used to put stuff so I could “find” it again. I’m no longer that technologically impaired…but, the habit dies hard, I guess.  I see a doc that I do not recall.  I start reading it.  It is hazy in my head. I’m thinking….wow…..this is pretty good. I discover that I wrote a fantastic hook in it. Title of next book probably. It is really good.

I checked to see the date I wrote it…..today.  Hmmm….I immediately went to “how late did you stay up drinking and writing last night that you don’t remember? Maybe you do have a drinking problem”…..so…I check the year…….2016.  Today’s date. A year ago.  I checked the time….just for fun…..0123456…..each used once. Book 6 is the only book published.

That was a huge crash in my universe….A huge grin erupted on my face…..I am on the write/right path. Who knows where I will end up….but, I am going the write/right way. And, I am thankful for my friend.  She kicked my butt in gear and accelerated my plan.  I will get to my goal sooner.  And, it will be sweeter……she isn’t the only one not impressed by my new career or retirement plan. Now……what to do if she wants to stay at the beach house?

Chip This…..

Almost every day I read or see something that makes me think…RUFKM?  But, this…this takes it….

A company is “chipping” their employees instead of providing badges for entry and for payment.  I will admit when I was pregnant with #1 and on bedrest….I considered it…for the baby……we do it so we can find our dogs, right?  If our kids were chipped, we could find them immediately if something went wrong…I am still not convinced this is a bad idea….at least until they are 18. Well…..…..there were lots of kidnappings then….plus….pregnancy hormones.

But, to put a chip in my body for my employer so they can keep track of me? RUFKM?  That chip will allow them to see where I am and probably what I am doing every second of every day.  I am no longer living in my parents home…..nobody has a right to that information.  Ever.  I’m not saying that I don’t tell my kids, sig other where I will be when I am out…but, that is courteous and informational.  And, on a generalized level.  My courtesy does not extend to a detailed list of where I went and what I did. I would never allow this to happen to me.  Chip this.…..

I know it is already happening….FB, photos, cell phones, computers and everything else.  But, you know what…..I can leave my phone and take a drive and nobody gets to know where I am or what I am doing.  If enough people have these chips….they will even know who I am with.

I understand that these are “voluntary” according to the company…..but, what does that mean?  When I worked for company A… donating to the United Way was “optional”…but, they sure reminded everyone at every chance they got. Dressing nice is “optional” where I work……but, it is doubtful you will get promoted if you were jeans and Birkenstocks every day.  I think you can see where I am going with this.

Why? Oh, why? Would anyone ever consent to having a chip put in their body for “tracking purposes?”  I almost don’t have words.

Is this because I am old and have become like my dad?…..he used to say all the time how everything was basically a communist or governmental  plot to separate him from his money.  I used to just roll my eyes and vow to be different when I got old.  But, now, maybe because of the wisdom that supposedly comes with wrinkles…..I see things differently than before. I mean…really?  A chip? In an adult? Implanted by their employer?  And, I panicked when I received a laptop and cell phone when i started this job…I didn’t want to be “tethered” or “leashed”…….

Oh, God…now I feel like Andy Rooney…….

We Don’t Need No Stinking Boxes

Do you have a box? Do you live in it? With the lid closed? Or, are you standing in it, one foot in and one foot out? Did you already pack your box with shit and send it away? Did you recycle it? Boxes….we all talk about them, about ours, other people’s and getting out of them. Our favorite toy as a child may have become our prison in adulthood.

I’ve got a burr in my box about this lately. I feel like there are 2 things in life that make us feel like we are really living….and those are the highest highs and the lowest lows. The lows come on their own….often without any help from you. But, the highs….the highest highs come from adventure and risk. If you are so taped into your box, that you don’t ever try anything new, there is never change and growth and how boring life would be? And, rest assured, I am not talking about driving at night, wearing sunglasses, with your headlights off (easier to do back in the day)….or jumping out of an airplane.  The Eels wrote a song about it.

I am talking about saying yes to one unexpected invitation a week or a month. Or, going to a new restaurant. Or, walking a different way when you take the dogs out. Listening to 3 songs on a radio station you never listen to.  You will have to decide what “risk” is right for you. But, do it.

I would not consider myself a risk taker……but, I am writing a blog for any and all to access….and, I am having the most difficult time lately with people who are so stuck in their box, they are going to be buried in it. I am not even sure why it bothers me so much. Am I jealous of others ability to just hang out status quo? Hmmmm. No….that is why I keep trying new things. Do I need validation that I am doing the right thing? Doubtful….I spent 12 years in catholic school and yet….I write porn. So, if I was worried about what people thought…..

Maybe because I feel like they are wasting time. We are getting older, time is getting shorter. We are losing peers. But, we are still a long way from elastic waistband “slacks” and dead (but, I would say when I start wearing elastic waistband slacks…..death will not be far off). Do things. Have fun. Change it up a little. I just want to shake the shit out of them. I want these box people to feel the elation that I feel. I want them to feel like they are living. I’ve gotten a second chance…..I just want to share.

And, you know what……? They just don’t care. They are happy and content in their box. They don’t look at me or anyone else and think “I should do that”. They think, “cool.” That is all. AND. I. JUST. DON’T. GET. IT.

A few years ago someone dumped me out of my box and then sent the box through the shredder. A few months later, they lit that thing on fire. I was forced to change. And, I fought that shit like it was my job.  For a while. Then, gradually, I started to let go. Let go of the box I was in. Let go of all of the boxes I had put together in my youth. I realized that things didn’t have to stay the same. I didn’t have to have (or be or do) anything I thought I had to have or be in the past. I pulled a thread. And, I kept at it. Now, I rush head first into change….because it means new experiences, new joys. I have been able to re-achieve almost childlike wonder….or, is that because I let go of my expectations? 

And, boy have I let go of my expectations.  All of them, I think. So, now, instead of sifting through expectations and whether or not they are met, I can just respond.  “It’s Thanksgiving and the turnkey tastes like crap.”  Cool. Let’s go to IHOP. “Mom….can we have Thanksgiving with Dad this year? I know it is your turn, but……” Sure…..what day should we do our Thanksgiving and how should we do it? Traditional or sushi? You get the idea.  When you let go of the expectations, you are rarely disappointed.  

This might not seem like a big deal to some of you….but, to me……WOW!!!!  And, I have to say…..I am so much more peaceful. Life is not perfect…..I still want these box people to stop wasting time……..

I am Invisible

I am so fucking tired of being invisible.  And, you know what…I have news for you young people….you are fucking stupid.  And, here is why……

I’m older…..probably older than your parents. Not only have I been around the block a few times, I learned some things walking, driving, and running around that block. Like, how to tip. How to appreciate good service. And, what good customer service is.

So…..a few years ago, I decided to finally just call a truce with my hair.  I wanted, once upon a time, to have long, thick, curly “rocker-bitch” hair.  I wasn’t born with it and no matter how much money or time I spent….I was never able to achieve it. And, no, I never tried extensions….because….well….because.  I am a firm believer in “what you see is what you get.”  I will not swear more once I get to know you.  I will not dress less once I get to know you. I did not stuff my bra when I was a kid…..and now…well…..  Anyway…..this is me. I am still going to voice my opinion about whatever. I don’t have time (seriously….over half my life is over) to be something I am not. I no longer care if I impress people or not….which is the topic of another blog….about why being my age is so fantastic.

Anyway…..I started going gray in my late 20’s…..thanks, Dad (he was fully gray by 40…but, really, he had this beautiful white hair.  White.)  Finally…..luckily? For me…a new trend appeared about the same time I decided that I was no longer going to piss away money to hide the gray. My stylist had been begging me for months to do it.  So, I did.  And now, I have a full head of white hair with silver streaks…..it is gorgeous (I know this because I get a ton of compliments on it from others…some even asked me how I got it that color). And, it is easy and cheap.  But…..it and my age I suppose, have taken me to that invisible place.  

So…once again….I am in the best place in my life that I have ever been.  I am happier than I have ever been.  I am the best version of myself I have ever been….and, nobody gives a shit. I get it….I’m not young and hot anymore…..I get it. But….I am a better friend and lover than I was when I was young and hot….I have learned a TON about life and sex since I was young and hot.  And I don’t know if I was ever really “hot”…but, I was young…..and thin.  And got some attention.  But, now….(I was going to say I can’t even get arrested…but, I no longer want to and was not arrested back then either….although I have spent some time in the backseat of a police car)…now….despite big tits, a big mouth, and white hair…..I get no attention. I have to wait forever to get a drink at the bar. The men have stopped flirting and trying to pick up on me (okay….not really fair….there are just less of them now). Cinderella was right….you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. I finally understand what my Dad has been saying my whole life: youth is wasted on the young. I say it all the time now, too.

And…I can only see this getting worse as I grow wrinkles and a stooped walk. I will become further and further away from 25…..(shit…I’m closer to 75 than 25….fuck me...)  I will have to bring my own flask to bars, I guess.  Can you see it now…..I pull out my flask (because I guarantee some young waiter or waitress will see that)….and they come over to try to take it away or tell me I can’t drink from it in their bar?  Can you imagine? Because I see me (and everybody my age and older)…..dumping all of our frustration from this unwanted cloak of invisibility onto this unsuspecting ageist…..here is what I will say…”fuck you, you fucking fuck…..and then I am sure I would continue to pour all over her to make up for all the times I was ignored or not seen. Of course….this could be the fun part of being old and invisible.

This is why old people are grouchy…because they can be, they are driven to be, and they have a right to be. All you little whippersnappers better look out…….