Don’t Poke The Bear!

Logan has told me, on many occasions, that I have three moods: Normal, Sarcastic, and Bitch.  Well, today he decided to see what it took to flip the switches.  It all started when I asked if he would brew a cup of tea for me while I was in the shower.  Not too much to ask of one’s brother, or so I thought.  Apparently he was in one of his “Poke The Bear” moods.

Whilst I was in the shower with soap all over and shampoo in full bubble, I heard the shower door open and then Logan said, “Here’s your tea. I used your hot shower water to save time.”  I managed to get one eye open and he had popped the cup of now soapy tea in the soap tray.  I was furious!  Yes, he had flipped my switch to FULL bitch mode!  Do NOT fuck with my tea!!!

I finished my shower without chewing the glass out of the door and stormed down the hall to give him a piece of my mind.  I lit into him like a fire to kindling only to see him give me a smirk.  I had had it!  I was just about to reach into his throat and pull his eyes out when he glanced behind me.  When I spun around, our garden neighbor had quite the stunned expression on his face.  It was in that instant I realized two things: 1. I was still wet from the shower and, 2. my bathrobe was still in the lav.  I stood there in horror with nothing between me and our neighbor except a piece of glass. Which would not have been so bad had I remained facing Logan with just my arse facing the neighbor, but when I turned around….nothing was hidden except whatever dignity I may have had at some time in the past.

I was still fuming as I walked to work.  Not even Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro” was of any consolation.  Upon reaching the street where I work, I noticed a sign that explained that workers would be making some sort of repair at some point in the next century or two, depending on the length and frequency of their coffee breaks, and that all employees were to enter through another door.  I walked past one of the workers who thought he was being such a stud when he asked me if I liked taking the rear entrance.  I stopped, turned to him, got nose-to-nose with him, smiled, and said, “Oh, I like all sorts of things.  However, as you have chosen blurt out my secret, I can’t invite you in.  Perhaps one of your lads would be willing to step up and bend over for you.”  And I walked away, still fuming.

Logan telephoned to apologize and asked me if he could take me to lunch to make up for his asshole-ness.  I accepted and he came by to pick me up.  As we left, I heard a familiar voice make some comment, which I shan’t repeat, as to whether I preferred men or women.  Again, I turned, walked up nose to nose with him, and asked him to repeat himself.  Instead, he reached around and grasped by buttocks.  Remembering the training I had received from Sister Thomasina, this gentleman was extremely surprised when his face hit the pavement and his thumb broke.  Astonishingly, when the constable arrived, this wonderfully articulate workman expressed his deepest apologies for having tripped and fallen on the pavement in front of me and how grateful he was that I was there to “help him up.”  Trip to jail averted because he didn’t want to admit to anyone that a girl of 8.5 Stone had KICKED HIS ASS!

Logan stood there dumbfounded for quite some time, as did the workman’s associates.

DON’T POKE THE BEAR!!!!

 

I Should Not Be Allowed In Public

This Friday past, I had my trip to see a physician.  As I have several physical issues from my youth, I have to make this journey every six months to make sure all my bits and parts are still humming along and not trying to kill each other (or me).  Understand I try to take care of myself.  I stroll to and from work unless some horrendous storm prevents me from remaining on the ground.  I eat as I should, for the most part, with the occasional trip to the pub for a burger (twice a week whether I want to or not).

I am very familiar with the routine of my visits normally, but this time was a wee bit different as my appointment had been moved to a Teaching Hospital now that Logan and I have our own flat in a new village.  So I actually had to beg a ride from Logan because I am not walking half way across the county for this and I don’t trust cabbies.  Logan agreed to take me as long as I behaved myself (WhatEVER could he mean?).  I told him I would keep my arms, hands, and feet inside the car until the ride came to a complete halt.  He snorted, snugged my carriage belt tight, and off we tooled off to see the doc.

I won’t go into the interminable wait (thank goodness I brought my tablet so I could read) because the mags were always at least 6 years old with all the puzzles already done and most of the celebrities in them are either dead, in rehab for the 100th time, or no one remembers them.  Across from me sat a small boy holding a lolly and, gauging from the volcanic eruption of greenish slime flowing from his nostrils, he was not in the best of health.  However, he started to toddle toward me with his chubby fist outstretched to offer me a lick of his lolly.  Thankfully, his Mum intercepted him just in time.  Logan chuckled under his breath (asshole!).

When my number was finally called, it was as if I had just won the grand prize on a gameshow.  All the other contestants in the waiting area glared at me with jealous expressions.  I was escorted to a lav, handed a cup and told I needed to “give a sample.”  I was diligent in fulfilling my mission and, once accomplished, I toddled back toward the nurse’s station to submit my sample for their scrutiny.  Along the way, I was intercepted by a young lady about my age whose eyes were big and glazed.  I swear I could hear air escaping from her ears when she asked me what was in my cup.  I responded excitedly, “It’s tea!  You can get some around the corner.” Apparently my sarcasm was lost on her as she continued to maintain the “I have no idea what to think” expression on her face.

After submitting my cup to the proper authorities, I was escorted to an exam room and told to disrobe, put on the gown, and the doctor would be in shortly.  Well, I attempted to apply the robe to my naked body, but as it was fitted for a Sumo Grand Champion, I just let it fall and got on the table and put my legs in the stirrups to save time and any awkward conversations. I closed my eyes for a bit to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

Within minutes, I heard the door open and heard several feet shuffling into the room.  When I peeked, I saw 7 people in white coats staring at my “Bits In The Air” motif.  Apparently, I had “jumped the gun” a bit, to put it mildly.  There was supposed to be some fact gathering through an interview process.  And here I was ready for the poking and prodding and the application of various unguents and uncomfortable appliances to my lady parts.  I told the person with the namebadge, who I presumed was the one in charge, that we can multi-task as my ride is waiting in the lobby a bit impatiently.

Thus, while I was asked general questions from the person seated next to my head while a bearded person at my “business end” began the exam with ice cold hands and instruments.  Therefore, many of my answers to the questionnaire were interrupted by gasps and barks of various exclamations of profanity.  After all the prodding ceased I was told I could sit up and get dressed.  As my bits had, by this juncture, been frozen by the cold items thrust into my every crevice, I walked back to the lobby as though I was a rodeo rider.  Logan looked up and I told him to SHUT UP!

I swear he took the bumpiest path home ever just to enjoy my immense discomfort!

Empower My Ass!

I was invited to attend what I was told would be a social gathering and discussion group.  Since I am trying to come out of my shell a bit more, I accepted the invitation.  The social gathering was pretty interesting as there were quite a number of people from several walks of life.  The finger foods were quite tasty and I discovered the foods were specific to represented ethnic diversity of the group.

I rather enjoyed the chat time.  I’m not much on small talk and am a painfully deep introvert, but I took the daring step to engage in the small talk conversations.  The groups were friendly toward me and seemed to accept me even though I am a confessed weirdo and nerdy geek with an horrific life, for the most part.  If I am completely honest, people scare the crap out of me (long story that. read previous entries for further background).

All was going well until the facilitator of the discussion opened her mouth.  She started out telling the group that the only way to bring down the power of the overseers is to become empowered.  She then went on to talk (ever louder) about how women, and people “of colour” have been kept down and that had to change through becoming empowered.  Her rants continued with Empowerment this and empowerment that and this race is to be hated and brought down.

When the “discussion” ended, I was SO happy to be out of that sewer of hate!  I am a mixed ethnicity person my sperm donor “father” who tortured me for YEARS was Asian and my drunken lump of a “mother” was Hispanic.  My skin is rather dark as is my hair, my eyes are almond shaped and deep brown.  So I guess one could plop me in the bag of “minorities” but as for hating others simply because of the pigmentation of their skin?  Hating people because WE didn’t make the most of the opportunities we had?

What I got out of that discussion was the facilitator’s desire to get the group to hate THEMSELVES so much that they blame and hate others.  This group, while outwardly appearing to be friendly and accepting, is nothing more than just another hate group.  If you hate, for whatever reason, you are just another hater!

If you want respect, be respectable!  If you want to be accepted, be accepting!  If you want opportunities….open your eyes and look around.  Sometimes the opportunities mean going against the opinions of those who are nothing but hatred personified!

EMPOWERMENT my ass!

When The Past Haunts

Softly they come

subdued in their voice

as they promise that all will be well.

Gentle their caress

as they enter your mind

and touch your heart

They embrace you

once again

like a lover

with whom you

were once comfortable.

Their caressing fingers

turn to talons

razor sharp

eager to draw blood

once again

Their grip is incessant

Their desire insistent

Their plan almost unstoppable.

The phantoms

of the past

know just where to touch

to draw you back

into the hell of the abyss

that once was daily life.

Far too long

these voices have coaxed

pleaded, insisted, begged,

and even demanded

that I return with them

to relive…to re-endure

Sweat pours from every pore

my body wracked with

the past horrors

the past lusts

the past pains

the past…

What am I to do

When the past beckons

refusing to be denied?

What Did You Say?

Have you ever had one of those conversations where you are asked a question and, normally, you would ponder your response, put the words into their correct order and tense, then line them up and send them off to the filter before allowing them to exit the mouth into the general hearing of all?  I have, shamefully, been part of these conversations over the last several days where the all systems have failed!

For example, I left my desk to toddle off to use the loo.  As I passed the desk of one of my coworkers, he asked where I was going.  I shot him “that look” which I had hoped would give his mind the message that it was time for him to shut his mouth.  Yet…..here it was.

Him: “Where are YOU going?”

Me: “To the loo if you MUST know?”

Him: “Why are you going to the loo?”

(By this point, I was COMPLETELY embarrassed due to other coworkers began looking up from their work to stare at this interchange)

Me: “IF you MUST know, Mister Magoo…..I’m going to the loo to think of you whilst I poo.”

While that ended our exchange, I did feel rather bothered by having to explain such an event.

 

Later, Logan phoned me at work:

Logan: “Hey Tim, what are you doing?”

Me: “I’m talking to a jackass on the other end of this line asking idiot questions. And you?”

Logan: “Being the jackass phoning to remind you that you have a wax appointment after work.”

Me: “What gave you that impression?”

Logan: “Well, when you walked past me this morning, your gorilla legs were quite evident….”

Me: (cutting him off angrily) “WHAT? How DARE you!”

Logan: (continuing completely nonplussed) “And the shoppe called to remind you because they couldn’t raise you on your cell.”

Me: (realizing that I had left my phone in the loo where I had been earlier) “oh, thank you”

 

We seem to have a penchant for asking idiot questions and then getting offended when we get sarcastic answers.  I told Logan I was heading to the shops.  He asked what I was going for, so I told him, truthfully, I needed a new bra.  To which his response, without even looking at me, was “what you going to put in it?”.

I apparently suck at conversing!

 

 

And Then The Sun

As I stroll

This misty morn

My thoughts

And contemplations

Wander along

A path unseen

My thoughts

And ponderings

Are drawn to the mist

And to the path unseen

My life has not been

A journey through torment,

Hate, loathing, despair

With no way conceivable

To get away

And yet one day

I was rescued

By one who cares

By one who loves

By one who understands

My hero

As I ponder the mist

Realization

Understanding

That Ah HA moment

Rises in my soul

Like the dawning sun

I know through what I came

I understand how I felt

Yet I know not exactly where

My life will lead

Yet each step I take in faith

I finally understand

This life is not about me

This life is to be invested

This life is to be used

To help others

Who are suffering

Who are in pain

Who think there’s no way out.

And then, the sun begins to clear

The mist from the path

 

Arriving At A Realization

I arose this morning, completed my morning ablutions, and decided to take my tea with me on a stroll through the park.  The sun was just cresting the horizon and I was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of something I cannot completely describe.  I felt a wave of contemplation.  For all of my life up until recently, I did not like living one bit.  I hated it, as a matter of fact.  Enduring the inhumane ways a person can treat another gave me quite the sense of hatred for everything living.

I firmly believed in nothing and laughed any time I heard anyone even mention a life worth living.  My parents were nothing less than proof that shit does have a life of its own. and those “high and mighty” folk who dealt with them were further proof that shit clumps together.

However, during our time in Charleston, SC, USA, and getting to spend time with a Reverend who was the most human parson I had ever met, my views began to change.  And this morning was a continuation of one of our many discussions.  One of the things I had inquired of the dear Reverend was the formula for prayer.  Understand that every prayer I had ever heard up to this point was a memorized set of words that had left me even more cynical and convinced that those who prayed were idiots and stupid gits with all the ability to think as a stone.

However, this morning I remembered the discussion I had with the Right Reverend “I’m Not Shithead” on this issue.  He told me that prayer is merely the conversation with God which springs from the relationship we have with him.  The deeper our relationship, the deeper our prayers will become.  So, being rather new to this whole praying thing, I just began a conversation: “Beg pardon Sir, but as we’ve not been properly acquainted until recently, I’m not clear on how this works and what to say, so, if You don’t mind, I’ll just say what’s on my mind and then shut up.”  So I talked for the first two turns around the park and then, realizing that I was out of tea and my wallet was on my dresser, was ready to head for home.

Just as I was passing the tea vendor, I found 50 quid by the door of the vendor trailer.  I picked it up and asked the vendor if his till had come up short.  He looked at me like a googly eyed zombie and told me that he would most likely be fired because his till had come up 50 quid shy last evening.  I plunked down the cash and told him that I just found it in the shrubberies and please fix the hole in his cash bag.  As a result, I now have free tea whenever he is working and I could continue my stroll about the park.

I remember saying, “Rather convenient that was.” And the sense of peace that came over me was like I had NEVER experienced before.  I could swear I heard a chuckle in my mind and a kind, gentle voice say, “Coincidences don’t happen. EVERYTHING has a reason and a purpose.”  To which my response was, “Well, Sir, we have much to discuss because I have questions!” And I kid you not, the response I sensed in my mind was, “Yep, we do have much to discuss….but let’s begin with I love you more than you can know.”

Methinks this was the beginning of what will, most undoubtedly, be a most extensive conversation!

And I Woke Up Snoring!

We’re FINALLY back home from our adventures in Charleston, SC.  The only hiccup in our trip came when my backpack was apparently taking off on another adventure as it was not on our plane when we arrived.  I enquired with the clerk and was informed that they showed my packs ticket was in Nice, France and they would let me know the moment they managed to get it back.  I’m okay, I enough underthings to last for the rest of the week, if it takes too long I may have to just go without.

I wish I had the energy to describe all the wonderful things that we discovered and learned and ate and drank whilst in the States.  I finally learned to drink Ice Cold Beer and now have to return to the normal pub beer (learning never stops).  I actually ate this porridge looking mush they called “grits” with shrimp, cheese, butter and bacon. It was DELICIOUS!!  The crab was fresh and delightful.

The homes of the extremely wealthy, called Rainbow Row, were grand and several of the owners were quite friendly.

Over the last two weeks, Logan and I learned a LOT about ourselves and have come to accept and incorporate most of our early lives into who we are now.  That’s never an easy thing to do.  We learned that WE are in control of our lives.  No one else can control our lives unless we allow it!  That was a real breakthrough for us.  To say this venture was eye-opening would be very much an understatement!  I now know that my life has a purpose and I can’t wait to learn more to fulfill that purpose.

We arrived home this morning at 2am this morning we got home around 4 (after chasing down my luggage), and just dropped my clothes on the floor, fell into bed.  I remember getting very annoyed by the sound of snoring.  So I woke up to see if Logan had fallen asleep on the sofa again only to discover my door was closed and the snoring could only have come from me.  Given the expanse of the drool pool, the sleep was deep and hard.

Thank goodness to be home again!

 

 

 

 

Beginning to Soar

I can’t even begin to describe how far we’ve come in so short of a time.  Logan and I have come to grips with over 20 years of horrendous “life”.  And it was all because of caring people who wanted to help us succeed, which has been overwhelming to say the least.  We left home last Sunday and will be returning home this Sunday coming.

During our sojourn in the States, we have discovered a man who has been teaching us about perspective and about taking control of our lives and histories.  I wish there was a proper way to thank him for all he has and is doing for us.  The Rev. I’m Not Shithead has filled my mind with some important wisdom and a raging desire to live the rest of my life as fully as possible instead of hiding from it.

I love people watching (and to be honest, some of you talk loudly enough that I can hear every word of your conversation to include personal information), and in my observations, I have learned that, for the most part, we are superficial at best with one another.  When asked, “How are you?” the pat answer is usually some variation of “Fine”.  It’s as if we have lost the ability, or the interest, to truly invest ourselves in the lives of others by being true friends.

I found a quote that I thought was appropriate for this:  “We keep things casual because we buy the lie that we are unique and struggle in ways that no one else does. We get tricked by people’s public personas and forget that behind closed doors people live REAL lives just like us. We forget that life for everyone is fraught with disappointment and difficulty, suffering and struggle, trials and temptation.”  And it is true!  I thought NO ONE could ever understand what I went through.  Logan knew  what HE went through and thought NO ONE could ever understand that.  And we were wrong!

Here’s another quote from the same book: “TRUE FRIENDSHIP calls you our of the darkness of personal privacy and fear into the loving candor of mutual concern.”  And it’s true!  I have met some incredible people right here on this blogsite who are not only interesting but have gone the extra step of becoming TRUE FRIENDS!  One of them I think of as my surrogate Mum.

I could blab on and on until you fell asleep from boredom, but I won’t.  I just wanted to share what I have been taught and how much I appreciate the Rev for his gentle handling of my life of hell.  If I could give him every pence I could ever make, it would still not be enough.

Oh…..lest I forget…..we strolled to the Market Street this morning and watched these remarkable ladies craft beautiful baskets out of “sweet grass.”  I sat and watched them for a couple of hours.  Then I began to think about something I had learned: We have the ability to learn from our past and weave it into a useful tool for our present to help others in our future.

Learning To Let Go

This has taken a long time

This has taken a lot of life

This has taken a lot of energy

This has TAKEN too much

This has given a lot of pain

This has given a lot of heartache

This has given a lot of anguish

This has given FAR too much

The scars are deep

The tears have flooded

The years have been stolen

Until now!

Now I am realizing

I may not be perfect

but I’m not worthless

I may not be gorgeous

but I am lovable

I may be a victim of the past

but the past will not control me any longer

I will have moments of doubt

but I am finding strength

I never thought I’d have.

Let go of each nightmare

Let go of each hurt

Let go each face that has caused me pain

Let go of each tear filled night

Let go of each feeling of hate

Let go of the past

Learn the lessons from it

but never let it control me again!