Month: January 2018

You Have Arrived!

Today, I found my answer to the question, “What do you do?”  My answer now is: “I use Google Maps everywhere I go because when I reach my destination, Google maps says, ‘you have arrived””

I love that! I have arrived. I love hearing it and it makes my day. Simple girl, I know.

And it solves my issue of whether or not to respond with my boring job or my exciting, fun erotica job.  I mean, really, why should anyone get all the good stuff in the first few minutes? They should have to work for that shit.  

When I thought of that last line, it amused me, so I left it. But, now that I think about it, I have changed some things in my experienced years. I no longer treat each new person I meet as a friend. I treat them like a potential friend. While this may be second nature for some, it is a new skill for me. I really pay attention to who is asking me questions, what types of questions they are asking, and how they respond to my answers.  I have learned a ton. 

A few weeks ago, I was in one of my local haunts when the bouncer (younger, hot, studly) approached me to compliment me on my outfit. I have known him for years, he is always pleasant and calm.  We have never exchanged names or numbers, but we have said hello.  And, the one time Jamie (partner in crime) decided to bring her own alcohol, he was very nice.  She had it in an opaque water bottle. She, like me, hates being invisible and waiting to get served. If I’m going to take my own alcohol, though, I would drink it in the bathroom. Or in the car.  Not Jamie. It was hot. And she thought we could stand 3 feet to the right of the door and that would be okay. I was trying to subtly tell her this was not okay when Younger, Hot, Stud walks over and says, “Ladies. C’mon. Really?”  She acted dumb and I just stood there wishing I had a beer.  He gave her a little lesson about where to drink her alcohol and never one time said anything like, “at your age…” And, you should know, Jamie is no fool. She finished her drink while he was being polite.

I was shocked at the compliment, though, as he had never done this before. Even my PIC looked up from her phone. I thanked him and he got called to duty. You know, drunk people aren’t the most responsible group.

About 10 minutes go by and he circles back. And, he says to me, “I’m sorry. I got called away while you were answering me. What were you saying?”

What? I can honestly say I cannot remember anyone ever doing that to me before. I sure noticed. I am looking forward to our next trip to that place and hope to raise a little cain while I am there. (wink, wink, Jamie)

I am used to being ignored. But, not only was I not invisible in this instance, I was center stage.  My “Invisible” blog generated a slew of emotions in my readers. So many who feel like me.  Invisible.

It seems like the universe has been telling me for a long time……why you gotta make things so difficult?  So, I’m not. Just like I have said before. After today I am through running after things. The ice cream man can go fuck himself.  Okay. I didn’t say it originally. But, it’s funny. Really, though. I’m done.  I’m done being sad I don’t get to hang out with my friends as much as I would like, so I’m making new friends. I’m done worrying about my teenagers hating me – they are supposed to and, to be fair, sometimes the feeling is mutual. I’m done talking to people who don’t listen. I could go on and on…but, do you get my point?  I am going to be interested in the people who are interested in me. I am going to do the things that I love with people who love it too. I quit caring what people think years ago. Now, I choose to do what is easy.

So, not only did I let go of something else, I moved forward in another direction. Not only is it easy, it doesn’t rob me of any joy. So, happy marches on. And, I don’t feel invisible anymore. If you don’t see me, I will find more who will.

Back In My Day

When I was growing up……oh how I hated to hear the stories that started with those words when I was younger,  but love to tell them now that I am older.  Of course, my stories are interesting and funny. A long, long time ago, (Pie) when I was younger, straight up –  I fucking hated, fucking hated it every single damn time some old fuck (over 22) said that to me in my youth.  Fucking hated it!  Yet, I cannot stop myself.  I say it almost every day. I am obsessed with getting older. I talk about it (and write about it, yeah, yeah) all the fucking time. And I utter that phrase every dang day.  Why?  I tell myself it is because I am teaching my kids something, leaving them with something for posterity.  I know, I am delusional.  My kids fucking hate it too.

When I was growing up, there was only Rock and Hard Rock.  Somewhere around high school, there was Metal (thanks Iron Maiden and Motorhead, just to name a few).  But, maybe the genre wasn’t so well fleshed out then (or maybe I was still listening to Styx). We called things “Acid Rock.”  Then there was Grunge, which I think we all know, I don’t like talking about.  Because it killed metal (see I Had a Plan Blog). Then, there was only Classic Rock, because that is all I listened to while boycotting grunge and local rock radio.  

When I finally pulled my head out, I found new bands and discovered that many of my favorite 80’s bands were being described as Hair Metal (our local rock station played a throwback Thursday set, calling it ”The Aqua Net Set”, hilarious and genius). This is a description that didn’t bother me, obviously.  But, I think it got to a lot of  those “long hairs” who spend way more time doing their hair than I do.  Hurt some of their little feelings.  Fine. Could be the reason why all the other genres started to bubble to the surface. While I just made that up on the spot, trying to be funny. I wonder, I am probably correct.

I talk a lot of smack about musicians, local as well as famous. Truth is, I love them. I admire their commitment to what they do (except for those tribute band motherfuckers, don’t even get me started on those guys). I admire their drive, their talent, their mile high confidence level – even with no talent. Talented or not, these guys work their asses off (another blog). And, thanks to Behind the Music (bring back that show, please), we all know what happens to the professionals. And these guys, when they come down, they’ve got nowhere to go. They are not happy unless they are performing.

So, now we have Symphonic Metal, Death Metal, (it is here that I had to Google as I was out of metals). There is black (?) metal, Christian, and many more sub-genres that are weird and I am not sure I buy into them. Mostly because I didn’t get to name them.  We are finally getting to the point, really.

I recently found William Control whom I will describe as a Disco Metal group. Wait, wait, take a deep breath and let me explain.  It isn’t quite metal, different from symphonic, not quite dance.  Like Flock of Seagulls meets Metallica  or disco meets metal.  Which sounds impossibly disgusting (and okay, off the top of my head, 3 of my friends would insist it was impossibly disgusting. By the way, they are boys. And as soon as I tell them what he sings about – yeah, then they will be in).  William Control does the seemingly impossible – stripping all of the irritating out of disco, leaving all of the fun and all the stuff that  makes you want to shake your hips. And it is delightfully easy to dance to. And, did I  mention, fun?  And, a little confusing. I didn’t know if I should bang my head or dance so, you know, I looked like an idiot. The synth/keyboard isn’t as irritating when the music makes you want to head bang and dance. Disco may have sucked, but it sure gets your hips going. I listen to WC, and, instantly my mood  improves. Could be the hip shaking head banging beat or the naughty, naughty lyrics. Don’t know.  

They are my new favorite happy music, horrible lyrics band. Here is another crashing moment, how to describe the lyrics or “schtick” of the band, so to speak?  A dark and sexy place. You will have to investigate the rest.

We attended Vans Warped Tour experience and, I have written about it. But, I have been saving this for the right time. Plus, occasionally I write these things for hours. In this case, though, I wanted to give the band justice.  They are dynamite live. Their keyboard player, is a phenomenal performer and I watched him the entire time, so I am unable to describe the others, which I think is hilarious.  But, I danced. We all danced. Everyone danced and when I looked around, smiles everywhere.

But, what did I know? I listened to Styx. They were going to play at my first wedding. The one I was going to have until I discovered Motley Crue and Harleys.

P.S. William Control has decided to stop touring/performing and is producing and collaborating on other projects. Once again, late to the fucking party! Of course.

Happy New Year, 2018!

A year ago my blog was about how my musical childhood was dying and how so many of my heroes were lost in 2015 and 2016. 2017 took my number one longtime hero.  I have only one friend I have known longer than Tom Petty. That hurt. Deeply. Still does. It just seems weird to me to be in a world where I’m never going to see him perform live again.

Rereading that new years blog I’m amused to notice platitudes are my favorite thing to use, next to song lyrics, in speech. I notice with amusement that I spoke of not hating 2016. Funny. Can’t imagine I would say anything like that now. The notion that I might hate a year is weird. Maybe because I’ve crested over the top.

If 2016 was the year the music died, then 2017 was the year of shit that didn’t get done. Things that didn’t get done: the yard, the beach house for a week in the summer, 1st day of school photos and last day of school photos, didn’t buy school photos, didn’t train the dogs, didn’t decorate for any holiday…although, we did put Christmas tree up and the boxes in hallway, didn’t get my first blog out until the 12th, didn’t finish painting my room, didn’t get my life together and organised, didn’t completely clean out garage, didn’t get a new job, didn’t find a man, didn’t spend more time with friends. So many things did not get done.

2017 was also the year I started to let shit go. To be fair, even before 2017, I had become Queen of Letting Things Go. But, even I, held on to some shit. To rephrase, 2017 was the year I let go of anything else I was so tightly clutching. My new spirit of change says, “who cares what I let go or what I didn’t do? Let’s focus on what I did. (“I do not want what I haven’t got,” isn’t just a song title.)  

2017 is the first year where I really made a new year’s resolution. The resolution wasn’t intentional. I was at a point in my life where I needed to pursue one thing at a time. I was getting overwhelmed at the sheer thought of what I had on my plate. Being a single parent of limited means, my everyday life was already daunting as hell. I decided to pursue the “job” that would get me what I wanted/needed. For the first time in my life I had actually sat down and put my dream to paper. (For the purists out there, I actually ‘wrote’ my resolution by pressing keys on my iPad. I know how you writers are.) I put my dream of pursuing writing as a career and life choice as my #1 goal. I put everything else related to life choice, career, or job goal on the back burner until 2018. I determined what the many versions of success looked like. I broke down the goal into bite sized chunks and made a detailed list of what I needed to do and by when. I also spent some time, about once a month, to evaluate where I was and how the goals/list were going.  This step had seemed boring to me in the past, but it was now more energizing than the goal. I could really do this.

And, I was having such a great time doing it. Until I had to wrestle with arthritis. And, in late July I was greeted with an opportunity to pen and publish a true crime book! So, now it looked like I was going to have to put one dream on hold to do what? Something I didn’t want to do? Many blogs in the future will be devoted to “that process.” I wrestled with that decision so long, I put it’s own purpose at risk. Somewhere around the first week of December, I took inventory again.

I had achieved half of my list. It was the easiest, least important part. So the fuck what? I had achieved half of my list, I had written and published through an indie publisher (now I was self and indie published), I had collaborated on a book, I had built a potentially lucrative future for that book genre, I had something I had written for fun performed for a huge audience, I had reached top 15 in a book genre on Amazon, I had made new contacts regarding my goals, I had determined my retirement plan, I started to make changes in direction due to arthritis, I’ve accepted that diagnosis. Every single area of my life showed growth and improvement. I had a fantastic year. I accomplished so much. And, as I keep saying (ad naseum, I know) I have never been happier.

On a lark, I reached out to someone who appeared to need a little cheerleader in their corner. Next thing I know, she is going to help me finish my list! Probably so I could meet my goal in January or February!  And, by reaching out to her and working with her, I am taking steps to achieve the biggest dream I have. WOW! Amazing.

2017 was the year that I learned that in letting go, I would gain beyond measure. I finally let go of who and what my future must look like. I have a general purpose and direction and a list of goals, but I am keeping it fluid. I was so rigid in my erotica book goals, that I almost missed one of the two best opportunities I had this year. I was so rigid in whom I was looking for, that I couldn’t be open to find the one.

So…no new year’s resolutions this year, just a “to-do list”  which really turned into a “see in the future” psychic thing. In the next three months, I am going to meet or begin the relationship that is “the one” for me. I don’t know if I have met him yet, but he is on his way. I am going to get everything organised and get on top of everything in my life. I am halfway there already after last year.  I am going to be well on my way to selecting a retirement date by the end of this year. My life is going to continue to change for the better. I absolutely know it.

I was going to blog about that woman who returned her tree to Costco…..not sure which would have been more entertaining.