Let's Talk about the Penis

I want to talk about something a little controversial.  I want to talk about the penis.  I know right?  So, naughty and not like me.  Not.  

Anyway, I mentioned in my last blog something I tell young women, if they ask me.  I tell them that there is no penis worth it.  I want to explain that statement a little bit.  What I mean is this.  That there is no man worth the heartache and trouble that he is capable of giving you.  

I have been fooled by one man one time.  I will never let that happen again.  I was forever changed by letting him get to me.  No, it wasn't from my starter marriage.  I was forever changed from a boy in high school.  This boy was a complete asshole.  He was a user of women and only wanted what he could get and would move on once he got what he got.  

This boy broke my heart.  I let him brake my heart.  Now, it was only high school and in my mind these relationships really don't count.  Yet, I learned something very valuable from him.  I learned volumes from this boy and I am actually thankful for my very short and meaningless relationship with him.  Men are like Kleenex, use one then toss it away once your done with it.  Look for a man who is a handkerchief not a Kleenex. Someone who will endure the test of time. A disposable man is not worth your time.  

I learned that, if a boy can do that to a girl, a woman can do that to a man.  So, I began to study the other sex like a science project. I studied them as, if I was going to war.  I no longer looked for someone I actually liked or that I was attracted to.   I looked for someone that was a good match and would be a good partner.  What they had in between their legs was bonus not a deal breaker.  

This took me quite some time to figure out. I became very picky and reinvented myself so I could find the best possible partner.  I thought I found a good one with my starter marriage guy.  He was the perfect sperm donor for my Daughter but not a good husband for me.  He is a good guy to be sure but not a good guy for me.  So, for me he was a Kleenex guy.  I could go on and on and tell you why he was wrong for me but I actually respect him for the most perfect sperm that helped make my Daughter, so I won't go there.  

Back to the Penis.  Most or all men have one.  I do realize they all come in different sizes, widths, lengths and so forth but that is really not important.  OK, it is important but not crucial.  My Husbands Grandmother told him that all vagina's are the same in the dark.  I say that is the same for the penis.  Mostly.  

I would rather not even try out the penis on a potential mate until the driver of said penis has proven to me 100% that they have placed a worthy ring on my finger (to me this means a large precious stone of enormous value), He is an excellent financial provider, smarter than me, nerdy in all things, competitive and driven to succeed, kind to me and my daughter, moral, steadfast, wealthy, good with financial matters, a good saver and steward, practical, able to fix things, has common sense and mechanically inclined.  

A long list and almost impossible for anyone to have all these qualities.  However, My current Husband does not meet all these qualities.  He tries.  He does meet about 90% of them and others that I have not listed.  

My current Husband had a long list of his own.  I have no idea how I even qualified.  Yet, here I am married to him.  We both learned many hard lessons along the way and decided that nothing but the absolute best possible person would do.  

The penis....is so not worth what most women put into it or value its worth.  I have seen women cry and cry about a man and his thing.  They love him...they love making love to him.  He is such a good lover.  Blah...blah...blah...  I say grow up.  GET OVER IT.  

Sorry, friend, He does not love you.  He does not love you one little bit.  He is just using you and will continue to use you until you won't let him anymore.  

I had friends throughout out my life that would do anything to get back together with a man once he dumps her for someone younger or prettier.  They drive by the house or apartment to see, if he is home.  Knock on the bedroom window.  Climb in the window.  Crazy stuff like that.  Get silly drunk and have sex with that man any place any time just to keep him or get him back.  I say...so not worth it.  How could any penis be worth that sort of debasement?  I have no idea.  Yet, I have seen women do this over and over and for what?  Nothing...they never get the guy back.  They get a STD or pregnant, maybe.  For sure they get their hearts broken.  Every single time.  

This is why I tell young women and grown women that there is no penis worth it because there isn't.  I tell the older ones to buy one, if they are that desperate. Why not?  At least they aren't out there licking the heels of some dickless wonder who does not deserve them or even want them.  

I have heard of women leaving their good husbands for men because of some good sex.  Stupid does not even describe that.  I have seen women put their children in foster care for a second husband because of the penis.  Again, so wrong.  Light me on fire and let me scream, if I ever did that.  There is no man or his tallywacker worth not being with your family for.  I have seen women not speak to their families because of some stupid guy and his thingy.  They chose him and his penis over their brothers and sisters.  What?  I think not.  If I choose to ignore my people, I do it on my own terms.  Not because of some idiot man.  

Technically, we are all supposed to refrain from sexual congress or any sort of touching ourselves until marriage.  Good luck with that.  I still say the same rules apply.  If you have what it takes to be strong and not enter into any compromising situations until marriage, than choose very carefully because you only have the one shot.  Also, thumbs up.  God really likes that.  

I think it is a matter of loving yourself just enough to not be second place to any person, especially a man.  I am not saying that you should not be traditional in your marriage or old fashioned.  Heck, I am that women who is obedient and subservient to her Husband.  Just the way I role.  I am saying that you need to love yourself and never let anyone make you do stupid things.  How can a marriage or a union be successful, if you and your partner do not love yourself as you love the other?  

Remember these words.  Say them to yourself over and over before you make a mistake and end up with someone you shouldn't just because you haven't thought it through.  Say to your self.  There is no penis worth it.  There is no Penis worth it.  Just like Dorthy did with her red shoes.  You just don't have anything to click your heels with.  

There is no penis worth your self esteem or your self worth.  There is no penis worth your marriage or your children.  There is no penis worth giving up your family for.  

Be strong and full of love for yourself and raise Daughters and Sons who are the same because we as women are all we have to protect ourselves along with the good men we choose to be with.  

Real Friends or not

What is it that makes other women choose men over other women?  Have you ever wondered that?  I have...a lot.  I do it all the time.  

I rarely let myself get to know many people.  I have a many acquaintances and very few close friends.  Even my close friends I keep at an arms length.  I wonder, if most other people are like that?  I would think most are because I place myself in the range of normilsh or maybe not.  I can't decide were I fall in the mix.  

I know the reason I am not all into letting my barriers down.  My reasons are self protection.  As a young person, I trusted once to often a supposed friend and was truly hurt.  

For example, in junior high, I had this friend who I thought was my BFF.  Turns out she so sucked as a BFF.  Years later, I asked her why she did what she did, she told me she liked the same boy I did.  She was angry he liked me and not her.  I was like...what the frickity frack?  If she had only told me, I would have so not liked that boy.  Girls before Guys, I always say.  Anyway, she asked for my forgiveness.  Of course, I forgave her, although she was never my friend again.  

This is what she did to me.  She decided that she would tell everyone that I had sex with this certain boy that liked me.  So, not true a complete lie.  Then she told them that I had sex with another boy behind his back, again not true.  Then she arranged to have all the kids follow her and me to our local ice cream store and trap me in the store for a confrontation.  This was to publicly humiliate me and call me a slut and whore.  I was 13.  It was beyond traumatizing.  I was devastated and destroyed.  This thing she did, still did not do anything to really destroy my reputation in the long run or my popularity, but my soul was changed forever.  I never trusted a supposed friend again or at least it took me a very very long time.  

I cried for years over this incident.  I could have cared less about the boy.  Boys come and go.  Like I have told my daughter and countless young women that ask me, there is no penis worth it.  I thought my friend had my back that I could trust her.  She was in it for the boy.  Not cool.  As soon as I figured out a women is in it for the men, I simply dismiss her as a reliable person and refuse to deal with her in any way unless I have to.  

As I grow older, I find that my real friend circle is very small.  I trust very few women and call even fewer true friends.  I audition anyone who wants to come on in.  I would love to have more friends.  It is just that eventually I find out they only want what my credit card will buy for them or whatever they can get. I only want someone who wants to spend some time with me and let me get to know them and the other way around.  Just accept me for me and all my craziness and let me accept them.  

You know, it is not like I do not want to give my friends money or gifts, I do, it is just they come to expect this as part of the friendship.  Eventually, these people are no longer my friends.  I find they give me nothing at all, not even time.  I have had friends who don't even remember my birthday year after year.  Not even a Happy Birthday even, if I remember theirs.  I don't care about gifts or cards there is nothing I want or need.  Just a simple thinking of you as you grow into a crone would be nice.  

I guess what I really wonder is what is it that drives most friendships?  There are some friends I have not seen in years and consider them solid and perfect.  They would have my back in a minute.  One of my friends I consider in this category asked this question.  Would you hide the body for me?  Yes, I would.  As, you would hide the body for me.  This is a friend.  No matter what the time or distance.  They have your back without asking anything in return, just your friendship.  

I remember being a cheerleader.  I loved being a cheerleader, it was so much fun.  However, some of the cheerleaders were really mean.  I was not mean.  I just wanted to dance and cheer the team on.  I never really bonded with my fellow cheerleaders, my agenda was different then most of theirs.  I was there for the joy of being able to cheer.  I think they were there to be sexy and on top of the pecking order.  I never did get that.  My intentions are always so different then most.  Sometimes, I wish that I was like everyone else.  Life would be so easy.

Sometimes, I wish that I could just be friends with whoever was in my social class and do what was expected and called for.  I tried,  I did.  I just could not look into the vacant eyes of another woman in another committee or lunch and not make a real connection.  I just could not do it.  Unless, I lost all my composure and slapped someone for being a real bitch.  Unless, I could do that, then nope, not doing it.  

So, here is the deal, I am at a point were I am just going to be a friend to people I want to be friends with.  I am going to say what I want to say and suffer the consequences.  So be it.  

I choose to have real friends and real relationships and I don't care what anyone says.  

A calling to serve

What is it that makes a person want to become a Police Person or a Nurse?  I have often wondered this.  What is it that makes a person decide to give their life over to a life of service and excruciating hard work?  I don't know.  I ask myself that everyday as I don my scrubs.  

Nurses or Police are people that are called to serve by a force that they cannot deny.  Almost like a calling to serve God but not the Church.  I suppose it is much bigger than that.  You are called to serve to such a degree that you cannot fight this calling.   You give with everything you have.  You give your body, soul and sometimes your very life.    Only another Nurse or Policeman can look into the eyes of another and understand the sacrifice that the other has given.  There is nothing like it.  A Doctor has glory and pay.  A Nurse and Police has none of these.  We are the true servants of blood sweat and tears.  

Have you ever been to a delivery of a baby?  The Delivery Nurse has been with the laboring Mother for hours.  She has coached this Mother and done everything for this women to give her comfort and made sure that she and the fetus were cared for until the moment of delivery.  The Doctor comes in at the very last second and catches the Baby.  The Doctor gets all the praise and thanks.  In reality he has done nothing but play catch.  Most Doctors don't want to be called until the baby is almost on the floor.  The Nurse does everything to ensure the Baby and Delivery are perfect for the Family and the Doctor.  She does check in with the Doctor and gets orders but if that was not a law, the Doctor would probably be more than happy to not hear from the Nurse at all until the last possible moment.  The Nurse gets to clean everything up.  Trust me, it is a lot to clean up.  No one ever thanks her.  They just ask her for stuff and order her around.  

Same with Policemen, they could do a million things right.  Protect and serve a community and keep the peace for years.  One thing goes wrong or even sorta goes wrong and now they are called out as being brutal and overly aggressive.    

I keep thinking about our Law Enforcement.  These Men and Women are out numbered beyond imagining and set out to keep the peace in neighborhoods that violence is as common as candy.  They are not respected, hated even.  Their jobs are impossible.  In fact, it seems that the rules and regulations seem to favor the criminals and make the job of keeping the peace insanely hard.  I think that the anger they display at times might be a release of some really pent up frustration.  

Why would anyone keep doing these thankless jobs, if not a true calling to serve the wretched thankless public?  Maybe they are not wretched or truly thankless but the job is.  

I think that God chooses those whose hearts are the most giving and strong to be those that serve.  I don't know.  I do know that there is nothing I would rather not do.  I have to be a Nurse.  Just as I know that a Police Officer has to protect and serve.  

We are cut from the same cloth, Nurses and Police.  There is a certain selflessness to it.  This desire to do for others before you do for yourself, sometimes before you even do for your own family.  I can't explain it.  I just know it is a drive I cannot explain.  

Sometimes we are not perfect.  I know that I pray every morning to God in his heaven that I will not do any harm and be a good Nurse every day.  That I will be kind and caring.  That I will make no mistakes.  However, not once have I ever woke up in the morning and say to myself, Teri you need to hurt a Patient today and make a horrible mistake.  Nope, not once, have I ever prayed or wished for that.  I am also sure that a Police Officer has ever started his or her shift with the desire to shoot a suspect or hurt someone that did not deserve it. Sometimes, bad things happen.  Mistakes happen.  The last time I checked, I was a human being along with all the other Nurses and Police People in the world.  People make mistakes.  At least I do. 

I guess a Police Person would not be given a gun without extensive training and time to develop the critical thinking skills to enable him or her to decide, when the appropriate time was to shoot that gun and at whom or what.  The same is said for a Nurse.  A Registered Nurse is a person with a degree.  He or She usually has a Bachelors Degree although there is an RN who can have an Associates Degree.  Both Degrees take about five years to obtain or longer.  The waiting lists to get into Nursing School and grade point average are more stringent than some Medical Schools.  Critical Thinking is a must not an option.   Nursing School will possibly kill you.  I have heard the same for the Police Academy.  

I wonder why the Public expects such perfection from Nurses and Police People?  Maybe it is because we hold ourselves up to such high standards as well?  Again, I do not know.  I do know that I have talked to hundreds of Nurses and Police People over the years and most of us feel the same way as though there was no choice but to follow this calling to serve others. 

I hope that the Public will give our Police Officers a break.  I believe they are doing the best they can with very limited resources and deeply angry neighborhoods.  Perhaps the Police force needs some resurfacing and retooling? Perhaps?  I personally am fond of them and respect them completely even, when I get a ticket every decade or so.  

I say, lets embrace them and give them the benefit of the doubt and assist them to protect us better.  We need them.  

As a Nurse, I say that we remember that Nurses are people doing the best they can with little to no help wearing many hats working under regulations that can be crushing to the actual care of the Patient.  Try and remember that Nurse is doing the best He or She can and will go without food, water and even going to the bathroom before letting your family member go without care.  I know, I do it all the time.  

This thing about callings, I am sure there are many called to do many things.  I only know what I was called to do and I understand or I think I understand this calling of my fellow servant the Police Officer or at least I hope so.  

Teen Suicide....another one

Today my friend told me one of her friends son's committed suicide.  He was just a teenager.  Full of life and promise, this young man was.  He is no more.  Like blowing out a candle.  He hung himself without a word or gesture.  He is simply gone.  

You hear about things like this all the time.  A young person takes their life for some reason or another that seems so senseless to most of us.  I have read and heard about these tragedies and I cry every time and always ask why.  

What is it that makes a person want to take their own life?  I am sure to that person there are many reasons that make the ending of their life and the pain they are in justified.  

I was always taught that to end your life is a sin against our Heavenly Father and a one way ticket to eternal damnation.  I suppose for me, to take my life would not be worth outer darkness, spirit prison or hell.  Trading human pain for eternal pain.  I would not see the trade off.

 Like Mounds or Almond Joy both decent candy bars and relatively the same.  One has nuts and both have coconut that get caught in your teeth.  A bother to be sure.  Maybe not a good comparison but one worth thinking about especially, when thinking about eternal damnation, do I want to live through this horrible situation here on earth and learn from it and go on to other things and be a better human or do I want to be dammed for all eternity?  Tough question for sure....cough. 

Some people do not believe in a hell per say.  I do.  Maybe, after a long time of teaching and deep meditation there would be a way back to the grace of Heavenly Father.  I am not sure.  I do not make up the rules and am definitely am not in charge of forgiveness.  I just know that I am in charge of forgiving those who trespass against me (cough, I must have something in my throat).  I also need to forgive myself.  I mess up a lot.  

I suppose, when you are a teen and you cannot get your brain to reason like an adult or grasp a reality where the future is not like the here and now, it is highly probable that good decisions are a favorable outcome.  I know, some adults have problems with this as well.  Maybe the pain is so overwhelming or the problem so enormous that impossible is the only answer and death is the sweet release from the darkness that consumes them.  I don't know.  I can only guess by looking from the outside. 

I know as a Mother that when my Daughter experiences distress I want to talk to her and find out what is really going in that head of hers.  I will pick her brain until she is so tired of talking to me that she is willing to spill her soul and then we can figure out what the real issue is.  Then again sometimes I just want to pretend everything is just fine and live in a Mothers LA LA land were everything is perfect.  I am sure all Mothers like to go there from time to time.  I would live there, if coming back from there wasn't so jarring and uncomfortable.  

I did talk to my friend about this kid who took his own life and we talked about our own childhoods.  I know that now I am hyper vigilant about how my Daughter "Feels" and her "Needs".  It is hard for me.  My Parents were not that into my "Feelings".  I don't think any Parents were in our generation.  Maybe a little at the end of the 1970's and early 1980's but then I became an adult and I was off on my own adventure.  It was just weird to be all into that.  

I mean I guess we were into it on paper but not really because I don't remember really caring how I felt.  I just knew I didn't want to disappoint my Parents and being perfect and successful was part of that.  I did the best I could.  Any pain I had was well hidden from them.  I know because I asked my Mom years later, if she knew how messed up I was about a few things, she had no clue.  She was busy with her own thing.  As long as I was alive and not dead, all was good.  

So, this kid, he was doing well.  On paper he was just fine.  His Mom had no reason to expect that inside he was a very unhappy young man.  Then one day, he just could not take it anymore.  He takes his life.  No note, nothing on his computer, no breakup, no Facebook bullying, nothing.  He is just gone.  

How could she have known?  He left no clue.  He "Seemed" happy.  He was functioning and doing just fine.  I guess we are all doing just fine until we are not just fine anymore.  Then we either stand up or fall down.  We either let someone help us back up or we do get back up ourselves or we take ourselves out.

My Daughter would say that it was his choice to take himself out.  She would say that he chose this and we should honor his choice.  She would say that even, if we do not believe in his choice that his life is not our life.  That this choice is between him and God.  I have to say I do agree with her.  However, I choose to be sad and believe him to be a coward to not stand up and face life.   I choose to grieve with his Mother, even though I do not know her.  

If my Daughter would choose to take her own life, I would be very angry at her and at myself for raising a coward.  I do not honor cowards.  I do honor a persons choices but a coward makes me angry.  Life is a gift.  Even, if at this very moment it sucks, it is still the best gift any of us have ever been given.  

Perhaps, instead of death we might want to face life and enjoy all of it even the bad days or horrible days.  Every event can turn into something amazing.  I guess that is just me.  I like to put frosting on everything.  

For instance, I hate that I have the metabolism of a turtle.  I used to have the most beautiful body.  Now, my body is not beautiful.  To loose all the weight I have gained since High School, I would have to eat 1000 calories a day for three years and work out for two hours a day.  Then I would need intensive plastic surgery...every where and a crap load of laser treatment.  I also will never have my amazing smile back.  The right side of my mouth slightly droops.  

I could really be sad about this.  I could cry and wail.  However, I ate all that crappy food.  I sat around and was lazy.  Yes, part of it was not my fault but I had a big hand in it. I am what I am.  I can only do what I can do.  I will grow where I am planted and find joy in what I have.  I will be as healthy as I can be and be a glowing from the inside out beautiful person or at least try.  

If I could tell any young person one thing before they take the final steps before taking their lives, it would be to enjoy the process.  Each step is its own joy and reward.  Every person you meet is a colorful creation of our creator and worthy of love and kindness just as you are.  Love yourself just like you love your family and friends.  Love others like you love yourself.  Be kind.  Forgive everyone and yourself.  Patience is so important.  Take your time.  Be who you want to be and not what others want you to be.  Love God the way you want to love God.  Every day is a gift.  Some days are wrapped in black and some days have a tiara on them.  It is OK to be sad.  It is OK to be angry.  It is perfectly acceptable to love who you want to love.  Try not to take peoples hearts out with dull spoons.  Read a lot of books.  Take naps.  A sense of humor is paramount.  Temperance is learned.  

I suppose that is all I would say.  I would hope these words would give them pause before they stepped into the darkness.  Then again...maybe not a teen is a teen after all.  

Reach out my friends to our young people and love them.  Our world is so hard and the future is so uncertain for our youth.  They are living in a time like no other people have lived before, yet they are living in a time that is filled with craziness and violence that I have only read about.  

If you get a chance, maybe say a prayer for this young mans mother.  That she will find peace and that this young man will find peace were ever he is.  

Fat Bottom Girls on my walk that make me think to much..who knew

I was thinking about something today.  I guess I think about a lot of things every day.  Today, I was walking my dog, Pookie.  We have been walking a more and more.  

This is my thought process.  I was walking Pookie past the park, I was walking as fast as my curvalishish body would move me.  Then all the sudden, two extremely large women and their two round children were in front of me.  

I live by a park and Sundays are Baseball days.  I think they had been watching the Pony League games and were walking towards their car.  I saw them leaving the park and walked faster.  They went diagonal. I increased my speed to get in front of them.  They blocked my path and just my luck I was behind them.  

These girls were two of me or three of me each.  Big girls to be sure.  They were wearing yoga pants and bedazzled shirts with breast popping out.  Hair piled up and very nicely done too.  Makeup on and sharpie eyebrows (what is this a sharpie eyebrow invasion?) They wear dangling earrings that make disco balls dim.  These girls are way into glitz and glam.  Oh, yes..... and wearing platform flip flops.

I on the other hand had on yoga pants on but underneath I had work out shorts that went to my knees that held me all in (extra strong Lycra).  I also, had a long t-shirt on and an even longer hoodie on to cover my bottom and front.  Rule of thumb when a larger person, cover all offending areas and make sure nothing jiggles.  Hair up in a high pony tail.  No makeup and sunglasses to cover that fact.  My goal with this was to not scare small children or adults with weak stomachs on my walk. Appropriate shoes, dog on her leash (no doggy stroller today), ear phones in (my friend told me this was a good way to have people not speak to me).   

There I was staring at these two women's bottoms and I actually felt skinny.  I wondered, if they had their own orbits.  Feeling thin does not happen very often with me.  My mind went to things like.  I wonder how many calories they have to consume to keep their size?  What size yoga pants do they wear?  How do they get their hair so high?  I wish I had confidence like them.  To be able to love yourself and prance around like that at that size.  

Then I started to think that most women consider themselves hideous at even one pound over weight.  Most Men won't even look at a women, if she is not what he thinks is ideal or pleasing to his visual senses.  

My Daughter is overweight and she loves the body she is in and has no problem with her weight or what others think of her.  This amazes me.  She even gets mad at me because of my self esteem issues.  She gives me lectures about loving myself as is.  How ever did I manage to raise her like that I will never know.  

Bah!  Then I started to think about the first time my Husband and I went to Vegas.  He planned everything, like usual, and we went to the Tropicana.  We entered our room and the room had a mirror on the ceiling.  I was mortified.  

First of all, I thought what the hell was he thinking?  What kind of girl did he think he was bringing to Vegas?  Not the kind of girl that would frolic naked under bright florescent lights naked with a mirror over my mead during adult play time.  Oh...No.  I draw the line there.  

I look at him with this look on my face.  Like I am going to kill him and then feed his body parts to the rats later.  He looks like he is going to melt into a puddle right then and there.  

He looks at me with a pleading look.  He says, I promise you this wasn't like this before.  He swears that he didn't book the room with a mirror on the ceiling.  He says, We can get another room, right?  I take a deep breath and turn off the room lights and lay down on the bed and look up.  I can't see the mirror.  I tell him as long as the lights stay off during fun and games, we are good.  He is relieved.  

Not that I am opposed to a mirror over the bed.  Heck, if I weighed 120 pounds, had no stretch marks, had perfect toned muscles and gravity defying non-sagging breasts, I would say sure lets go for it.  However, I am completely human and I have had a child.  I also, have been taught to be ashamed of my body to such a degree that I could never enjoy myself with the lights on and a mirror over the bed during happy, joy time.  I mean what women in her right mind could?  Unless, she was crazy or perfect.  

As all these thoughts are swirling in my head the large yoga pants girls stop and I literally slam right into them and then I almost fall into the only hole in the sidewalk.  I am so graceful.  I say I am sorry a million times.  They look at me like I am snorting crack and shake their heads at the crazy lady with the little white dog.  

I shake it off and go my merry way.  I need to concentrate on anything other than mirrors on the ceiling and fat bottom girls, so I zoom as fast as I can walking as fast and far from the glam queens as I go down the street.  

Then I actually turn my music on and turn it up.  Metallica blasts in my ears and my anxiety goes way down.  Thank goodness I shake all these thoughts and can finish my walk in record time and get my heart rate up to a decent rate.  

I tell myself to stop thinking.  Set goals like watch TV on a regular basis.  Watch reality shows and shop at Walmart.  Yes, all these are achievable goals.  I can do this.  Yes, I can.  Be like everyone else.  Normal people don't think about stuff like you do.  

I start to say a mantra....stop thinking...stop thinking...nope not working...I am thinking again.  Nope...there is no way I am ever gonna watch regular TV or a reality show.  Sorry....just gotta be me.  

Lord Help us all!!! Teri is on a diet

I have decided that I want to loose weight.  Not because I want a rocking hot body so I can make the boys all crazy.  Bah!  No, not that, I just want to be healthier.  Looking better would be nice too.  

Anyway, after the brain tumor, I started to loose weight.  Just a pound here then a pound there and pretty soon I was thirty pounds or so thinner.  I wasn't even trying.  Things were kinda different.  I wasn't as hungry as I used to be.  I hated candy and sweet stuff and I just could not eat as much food.  All good as far as I can see.  

Then, things started to be so much clearer in the thinking department.  I could remember stuff again.  Not perfect but way better than how I was before.  

I used to have two toes on my left foot that had this totally gross fungus on the nails.  I had even taken prescription medication to get rid of this affliction.  I went to a reputable salon and had regular pedicures.  I saw a podiatrist.  I painted that toe fungus stuff on them.  I was even thinking of having the nails taken off.  They made me shiver with self loathing and disgust.  Then after the surgery, they healed.  I was really happy but I found it kinda weird.  You know, poof gone right after one missing brain tumor.  

I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia before I was diagnosed with the brain tumor.  I know I have talked about that before.  Also, I am just a bag of health fun....right?  However, I am going to talk about it again.  This was about six months before the brain tumor diagnosis.  I was feeling so very sick and everything hurt.  I kept getting headaches and I was so tired.  My BFF made me see a Nurse Practitioner who specialized in Fibromyalgia.  She assessed me and then sent me for labs.  Her Diagnosis was Fibromyalgia.  She did send me to a Reheumatologist for conformation and then to my Primary Physician.  

I was given a prescription for Ultram and muscle relaxers.  I was told to exercise, stretch and get plenty of rest.  I was also told not to do anything stressful or be in stressful situations.  Now, that was funny.  My life was nothing but stressful.  I was a Union Officer and an OR Nurse.  Holy Crap!!! My life was painted with stress.  

I have been without a brain tumor for five months now and with my Doctors permission, I am not taking any pain medications at all.  I decided I just did not want to live my life popping pain pills anymore.  OK, I was only taking one or two a day but I felt that was way to many.  In fact, I want to stop taking Motrin and the muscle relaxers.  I have found this spice that simply rules for pain relief.  My Doctor approved me taking it.  I wrote about it a while ago.  It is called Turmeric.

I keep reading about all these fibromyalgia people who live their lives in wheelchairs or some kind.  They pop Norco's or whatever every six hours and sleep 12 hours a day.  I just can't be that person.  I won't be that person.  I hope I won't be that person.  Please, God, don't let me become that person.  

Anyway, after a lot of thought, I decided I wanted to loose the rest of the 80 pounds I gained.  I have 55 pounds to loose.  Loosing 55 pounds won't make me skinny.  I will be pleasantly curvy at that weight and I am pretty sure that that is a good weight to maintain without a lot of effort on my part.  

Today is my fifth day on the diet.  So far, I find that dinner time is my worst time.  I really seem to want over do it then.  Other than that, I have been relatively much better than I have been dieting in a long time.  Usually, I am kinda insane and I can't even make it to dinner let alone one week.  

This self control thing over how I eat is a new thing I have not had in a long time.  I used to be able to just set my mind on something and that was that.  I would do it.  Then slowly I could not do that anymore.  It was like I had something in my head preventing me from being me.  HA! HA!  Oh, Wait, I did.  

I find all this interesting because the Physicians I have been working with tell me that the brain tumor would not have caused any malfunction that they could detect.  That there would have been a test that they could do or run that would show them or prove that something was wrong.  Other than I had a tumor and it would need to come out eventually.  That it could or could not start my hormones to act up or not.  

Until this happened to me, I would have agreed with them.  Now, I know better.  In a really odd way, I am glad it all happened to me.  I have a new perspective and in the long run, I have myself back.  My word of wisdom to anyone who cares to know, is listen to that still small voice that tells you something is wrong.  That voice is right 100% of the time.  Unless it is telling you to do really bad things or wear ugly clothes and sharpie eyebrows.  Just saying.  

I have hope were I had no hope before.  I have my brain back and now, my health is coming back.  I have this teeny tiny hope that after all these years of struggle with my weight I can do it this time and win this battle.  

Who knows, I am only a week in and there are many weeks to go and a lot of pounds to loose.  I will blog about it from time to time and bore the pants off of you.  I can promise you that.  

A Trip to El Pollo Loco with no chicken

As this blog thing becomes more of a daily or regular occurrence at our house, my Husband is becoming more and more involved.  At first, he wanted nothing to do with this blog.  In fact, he was a blog shunner.  Then he would be sitting on the other end of the couch and ask me what I was blogging about today?  I would look at him askance and mumble something or another and leave it at that.  

Fast forward two and a half months later and now I find myself reading him my blogs before I can finish them.  Good thing because I need a proofreader.  STAT!!  He is especially interested in the blogs about him.  

Anyway, I was reading him my blog about needing to learn Spanish.  He became very angry.  He began talking about how ridiculous racism was in any form.  He then asked me, if I remembered an incident from a few years ago.  I had almost completely forgotten.  Then he said he thought I should write about it and ask all of you what you thought.  

So, here goes.  This actually happened to me about five or six years ago.  

We wanted El Pollo Loco.  I love chicken and sometimes I just don't want to cook.  Throw me in Housewife jail.  Please.  

So, I went to fetch some chicken.  Thinking that the drive through line would be the fastest and most efficient way to purchase some chicken and tortillas.  I slipped into line with everyone else.   The line was long.  I could hear the people ordering chicken before me at the little order box.  Everyone was ordering in a mix of Spanish and English.  It was all really loud. Crazy loud.  

I get up to the box and I order Chicken in English only. The Lady says, We have no Chicken.  I thought perhaps I had done something wrong and was in a Jerry Seinfeld episode and the Soup Nazi was replaced by the Chicken Lady.  She was denying me Chicken.  "No Chicken for You!!"  She was apparently out of all chicken except burritos.  OK?  I ordered burritos.  I was so sad.  

I heard the people behind me order chicken in a mixture of Spanish and English.  The Chicken Lady took the Order.  WTF?  I thought maybe she misunderstood me.  Then I think, what is so hard to misunderstand about chicken?

I get to the window, and see that all the people in the restaurant are getting chicken.  They are all speaking very loudly and not in English.  I tell the lady that I heard her take the car behind me order for chicken and I say look all those people are getting chicken.  I wave at the people inside.  Why can't I have chicken like everyone else?  She smiles and says there is no chicken here.  We are out of chicken.  

I ask to speak to the Manager.  The Manager comes to me and I explain the situation.  I tell him everything.  He looks at the Chicken Lady and he then gives me a box of Chicken. It was a miracle.  Chicken from heaven   He gives me the Chicken for free.  I pay for the burritos and am still in shock.  

I come home with a sad sack of chicken burritos and a box of miracle chicken that appeared from thin air.  I tell my family about what has happened.  My Husband becomes insane with anger.  I end up calling El Pollo Loco and tell them what happened.  They listen and send me a ten dollar gift certificate for my next order with them and they suggest I go to another location.   Oh, yes...that fixes everything.  I hope you can see me roll my eyes.  

I didn't go to El Pollo Loco for a very long time.  I think we have not gone there twice since then and not to that particular store.  

I understand that many races hate white people and are possibly justified from past actions.  However, I am not personally responsible for any crimes against any people of any color or culture that I am aware of.  Yet, I find that simply because I am not dark brown or deep ebony brown I am being hated simply because I am not.  I find this so strange and odd since those people who cry most against racism are now the ones to initiate it.  My mind boggles at how we are ever going to get past this and just be one people working and loving each other for the betterment of all people and our planet.  Will this ever end?

I probably put that memory away into my forget file.  I sometimes do that, when traumatized with horrible situations that are incomprehensible.  I call it my Scarlet O'Hara gift.  It is useful on occasion and I suggest everyone develop it from time to time.  

However, I think it was a very sad story.  I am tired of stories like these.  I really am.  My Husband is right to have me share this story even though I really didn't want to remember it.  

Do you think the Chicken Lady heard my voice and on purpose decided to single me out and deny me chicken just because of what she thought my race was based on by my voice or do you think she was telling me the truth?  

Do you think this is a case of reverse racism or not?  Tell me what you think?  Has this ever happened to you?