Is There a Flag for That?

I am just frustrated with my country and most of its people these days.

I am not gay nor am I getting married so I just don't give a shit about who can get married or not.  I honestly don't think anyone should get married these days.  Love shouldn't be bound by a piece of paper.

I also think that it isn't 1862 and I don't live in the South.  I don't give a shit about flags.  I really don't.  If it offends you, get over it.  Strong odors offend me, you don't hear me bitching about that.

Good grief people.

There is so many other things that should be a concern other than what other people are doing or what offends them.

I work hard everyday.  I like what I do.  I don't complain about bruises and tired arms.  What bothers me is that I what I make per hour isn't even enough to throw me over the poverty level.  I also don't qualify for aid or help.  I have kids to support and bills to pay.

Why can't we fix that?  Why can't we have poor people parades?  Why can't poor people wave a freaking flag?

Don't even get me started on affordable health care.  I pay for my health insurance and I also have medical bills thanks to my affordable health care.  I would like to hear a valid definition of what is considered "affordable".

Seriously...

America has so many homeless people.  America has so many unemployed.

I see so many kids these days post with poor grammar and spelling.  They can't do basic math.  I don't even think they learn history to even understand the issues today and where they stem from.

Why can we fix that?

Crazies are toting guns into places and shooting whoever they please.  I hear cries of gun control.  What about controlling the crazies?

Why does this happen?  Where is the flag for that?  How about a parade?

Why does no one really care about the important things?

I honestly think our priorities are in the wrong places.

Anger in Grief

I haven't blogged in awhile.

My laptop took a crap and I am using my son's, which isn't the easiest to use.  As I type, the cursor moves around and typos happen.

I also haven't had much to say.  Who wants to hear about my adventures in fondling tomatoes and inspecting bananas?

Anyway....

This time of year is graduation.  It is a happy time for families and students.

As I scrolled through my Facebook feed the other day I came across a photo of my aunt and uncle with their granddaughter.  I teared up suddenly.  My aunt looks so much like my mother.  The same salt and pepper hair, the same shape face.  I starred at the photo.  My cousin's daughter reminds me of my own with long brown hair and a wide smile.  I cried.

My mother died a few years ago from lung cancer.  I never really sobbed over it.  I don't think I grieved like you would imagine what grieving would be like.  It is weird and hard to explain.  I just expected to break down but I never did.

Back to the photo...

I think my tears came from anger.  I am angry at my mom for dying.  It is such a raw and real emotion.  It came from just picturing my own mother and daughter on Kate's graduation day.  This will never happen.

I used to think my mom would be around to share in my children's life events.

I think what angers me the most is that she was so selfish to not see a doctor sooner or to take better care of herself.  She admitted that she hadn't seen a doctor of 17 years prior to the cancer diagnosis.

Maybe is a normal feeling to be angry.

I also think I am thinking more of missing my mother because I have been through some rough times over the last couple of years.  There are times I wish I could just call her.  She had a way of talking you off the ledge and give you a sense that everything will be ok.

Sigh...

Crapload of Easter Candy

I will openly admit that I hate Peeps.  You know, those marshmallow, yellow, squishy bird like sugary things that only come out for Easter.

Why just Easter and who in the hell eats those things?

Anyway...

Why am I blabbling on about Peeps?

I worked at another store today because they have a crapload (big backroom hallway full) of Easter candy and no where to put it.

Well, John and I found places to put it but there is still a crapload there.

I worked twelve hours today (well 11 hours because I clocked out for lunch).

Yeah, long day at another store about an hour away.

It was tiring but good.  I welcomed the opportunity to go and do this sort of thing.  I think that working hard is the only way to climb the ladder.

I know, ladders and I don't mix.  (Guess you need to know a story behind that, but that is another blog).

My goal is to climb the ladder.  My whole thing about returning to Walmart after 20 years is because I loved it so much the first time (stupid reason for quitting).  I should have never left.

It makes a big difference when you enjoy what you do because it makes long, exhausting days so much easier to deal with.

So on that note.....

Bed is calling 

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzpeepsblechzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Nightly Ramble

Feeling a bit busy these days.  Not sure why though.  I guess my work schedule is always changing and I come home always exhausted.  This is a good thing though.  I work hard because I really want to do a good job and go places.  

I lost Oscar on February 10th.  Oscar was one of my guinea pigs.  He was a funny, curious boy that continued to make me laugh.  He was the only one who would sit at the bottom of the stairs and wheek at them for no apparent reason.

He will be missed.

I don't deal with death very well.  I understand that it is part of life.  I just can't be around dead bodies.  It doesn't matter if it is human or animal.  It is not how I want to remember them by.  I like to remember their live selves.  I am just weird like that.  I didn't see my mom.  She was cremated before the funeral.  I wasn't there when she passed away.  This is good because I just remember her alive.

I am rambling.

I tend to do that.

I also talk to myself sometimes.

My daughter always asks why I talk to the guinea pigs or the cat.  I tell her that it makes me seem less crazy.  lol

Anyway, sorry that this isn't mind blowingly awesome but it will have to do.  I am tired and I have to work in the morning.

Mind Dump

I dreamt of my mother last night.  It was a weird dream that included racks of clothing.  A sales person in knee high boots and a carnival act in the parking lot of a store that included large inflatable clowns and a child.  My mom and I were shopping (I guess) and on the way out we saw the clown act with the child and I elbowed her and nodded to the act and she shrugged.  No words were exchanged.  Then the alarm went off and that was that.

Weird huh?

The dream probably means something deep down.  What is strange that I remember the dream so vividly from about 12 hours ago.

I dream of my mom here and there.  I also dream of my grandparents too.  Not always all together and not always every night.

Things have been changing around here.  My daughter's dad and I decided to enroll her in a private Lutheran school here in town.  We are hoping that this helps with social issues and also we hope that it gives her a challenge with her school work.

I was against the transfer at first.  I am not overly religious and I worried about how much it would cost.  

We took a tour of the school and once inside the church sanctuary, I had this overwhelming feeling of being home.  

I used to go to church frequently with my friends.  I liked to sing the hymns.  I liked to listen to the messages given.

Some where along the way, I lost my faith.  I began to question my beliefs.  I just gave up on believing on anything.  I stopped praying.  
After taking the tour, I have been thinking about revisiting the church and maybe getting my faith back.

So there you have my mind dump....just a couple of random things rambling around my brain.

P.S.  I just reread what I wrote and my spell checker doesn't like the word "dreamt".  What the hell?

Not a Pity Party

Holy cow!  Two blogs back to back....must be something I ate, eh?

Yesterday I wrote about my feelings about love and how unlovable I feel.  I didn't write it to have myself a little pity part nor was I looking for sympathy.  I create most of my own problems and I realize that.

I wrote it because (well I write a lot of things) because I think others read it and think that they aren't alone in their own feelings.  Sometimes it is better when you don't feel so alone.

We all have our insecurities and fears.  We also have our own little glory moments and grand occasions.

This is life.

Life has struggles and life has people who just plain suck in it.  Life is funny that way.

I often wonder if around this time of year it is just harder for me.  The anniversary of my mom's death is right around the corner.  I think that it gets harder every year,

You know, the last thing I said to her ever was "I love you".  I meant it.  I called her on the day she died while she was being transferred to a bigger hospital.

You know, the last thing she said to me ever was "I love you too."  

That is pretty significant.

As much as that woman drive me insane some times, I loved her (well, I still love her).  She is my mom.  She will always be my mom.

I gets hard when she isn't around when life is kicking my ass.  As my sister says, "Mom always made it better."

My sister is right.

Anyway, I often think about that person who sends me anonymous notes in the mail.  Why does this person do that?  I also think about whether if it is because I write about my feelings and issues and they just seem to have their opinions.

No matter what, I will continue to write.

It is almost like therapy for me.  I sometimes refer to it as "mind dumping".  I dump out what is in my head onto the screen and hit share.

Well, this seems to be enough rambling for now.  I am tired and tomorrow is yet another day.

I Don't Love You

Those were such harsh words.

"I don't love you."

These were spoken by a guy I was dating.  I was really into him.  I enjoyed every part of being with him.  He made me feel alive.

Well....until he said that.

And those words constantly haunt me.

They were said a couple of years ago.  They appear in my dreams.  The appear in my quiet moments.  They appear when I least expect it.

The memory of those words is as haunting as any ghost.  They torment.  They hurt.

I often find myself wondering why I am not lovable.  Why would he say something like that?  Why am I so alone all the time?

When I look back to my past relationships I remember the ones who cheated, the one who disappeared, the one who gave up.  I think about why am I attracted to these men who don't respect a relationship and honor a commitment.

The only thing in common is me.  I must have the problem some how.  

I have been to counseling.  We discuss the fact that I feel so unlovable.  We relate it to my relationship with my mother and why I never felt really loved and most likely cannot have a normal relationship until I love myself.  Blah Blah Blah

I get that.

But still...

Words can be so hurtful.

Lately I feel so closed off and almost like a dog licking it's wounds.  I roll into a ball and just cry sometimes.

I should be good enough to receive love and respect but I just don't know how or where to start to find it.  I feel so dysfunctional.

And I'm angry.

I wish I knew how to fix it.  I wish I knew how to trust someone not to leave me.  I just wish I didn't have to be so alone all of the time.