I have been trying, very hard, to avoid any kind of truly controversial or political post...I just can't do it, anymore.
Am I the only one who has noticed the increase of firearm legislation, across the US?
Not really a big deal, in my opinion. So, I have 3 less rounds in my magazine...who cares?
Something else I've noticed is that there are a lot of "Mass Shootings" going around, lately.
***Now, I want to go on record saying that I am NOT belittling the tragedy of the deaths of children and innocent people.*** I'm not a complete asshole.
The Telegraph has an article up that details the number of Mass Shootings in the past 12 months, (I'll post a link to that story, below) starting with Sandy Hook Elementary, in December of 2012, and ending with a shooting in Topeka, KS, on December 1st, 2013. Not all of the Mass Shootings made headlines, which is tragic in itself. The media only covers the high-profile shootings, because Ratings!
Aurora Theater was a Mass Shooting.
LAX was not, yet the media still used the phrase...
M.S.'s are described as FOUR OR MORE people being killed in a single incident.
We've had 23, in 12 months, resulting in over 100 deaths.
The problem is not the guns. The problem is lack of training and education. The problem is the people.
I own a firearm. I've been shooting since I was 6-years-old. My first gun was a little air-powered pellet rifle. My father and my brother made sure that it was never within my reach unless they were around, and they were never more than a foot away from me, while it was in my hands. That's Responsible Gun Ownership.
I fired my first "real" gun, a .22 caliber rifle, at the age of eight (8). It took four more years before I had anything more powerful than that in my hands. Why? My father wanted to make sure that I understood every working detail about guns, and how powerful they are, and that they are not to be used on another person, unless my life is truly in danger.
I was taught to never, ever touch the trigger until I was locked onto a target, and to never, ever target anything I didn't intend to kill. I was taught that I held another being's life in my hands, whether a squirrel or a person, as soon as I aimed the gun at it. I learned how big that responsibility is.
I learned how to clean and care for a weapon...and I learned what the word "weapon" means. I was taught to never fear guns, but to respect their power. Dad told me that when a firearm was in my hand, I could be the most powerful person in the room, or the most cowardly, and it was up to me to decide who I was. My father didn't raise a coward.
These people who decide to settle an argument by killing the other person are cowards.
These people who decide to open fire on a group of unarmed citizens are cowards.
There is no reason to ever kill another human being, ever, especially a coward. You know what you get when you shoot a coward in this country? A medal. (Whaaaa?)
My father taught me that, even if I'm angry, (or maybe especially if I'm angry), a firearm is not to be drawn unless the intent is the death of the other party. I have never fired upon another human. I have drawn my weapon, ONCE, in the 20 plus years I've been handling them. The situation never escalated to the point of pulling the trigger, because I had the power, and I didn't take the cowardly way out. It was that simple. Once the situation de-escalated, the gun went away, and so did the other person.
There are some cases where the gunman in these mass shootings had PTSD or other psychological issues. That speaks to the level of mental care in this country, not to the lack of gun safety. The Naval Yard Shooting might have been prevented with proper care.
The problem with the lack of firearm education and training is fueling all kinds of political agendas. Politicians, across the country, are promising that if we give up our guns, our children will be safe in their beds, and at school, and the movie theater. I don't agree.
You know why there were fewer shootings, like the 23 we had this year, in the 1950-60s?
Firearm safety was taught in public schools.
Whoa. Blew your mind, right there, didn't I?
The same education that I received from my father, a Responsible Gun Owner, nearly every child in America received, in school.
Why are we not still doing this?
Probably for the same reason "Under God" was taken out of our pledge (which is ok...since it wasn't IN the pledge until 1954, anyway); probably for the same reason there's no morning prayer in our schools, anymore...probably for the same reason our children aren't allowed to play tag, or hold hands on the playground...and the reason they all get Participation Trophies...(don't even get me started on that BS).
This country has become a group of whiners. We're all too afraid to offend someone, so we decide to offend everyone, instead. We walk on eggshells. We don't speak our minds. We've learned to fear the truth, unless it's told by reporters...at which point it is no longer TRUE. It's spun and it's got an agenda attached to it and it just crap, as soon as the media gets a hold on it.
It's a sad state of affairs...
We're all cowards and unless someone (by that, I mean everyone) stands up to the bullies, the degenerates, the assholes, and the politicians, we're going to die a coward's death: on someone else's terms.
The Telegraph's article: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/10516913/Interactive-graphic-the-23-US-mass-shootings-since-Sandy-Hook.html
Note: The opinions expressed in this blog are my own, and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Blogger, Google, The Telegraph, or any other sites/companies mentioned herein.
Take that lawyers! :P
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
On a Roll
I'm in the mood to write, tonight. The problem is, I can't pick a topic. I could go political and talk about how much the government is screwing the American people. I could talk about religion. I could rant, some more, about my douchebag ex.
Meh.
Oh, I know!
Cops.
No, not the TV show.
I like cops. I grew up around bikers and truckers, in a trailer park full of alcoholics and degenerates, but I like cops. (and firemen, and military boys...what? I'm not blind!)
In all the times I've been contacted by the police, I've come across maybe two assholes in the bunch.
I think my earliest memory of Police, and probably when I learned that they are just as human as the rest of us, comes from when I was about 4 or 5.
We lived in a trailer park, at the edge of a huge field, with a Federal Maximum Security Prison, on the opposite edge. (Florence, CO, if anyone cares.) There was a break-out. It happens more than you'd think, considering the huge fences and dozens of armed guards patrolling the perimeter.
Anyway!
There was a break-out, at the BOP Supermax. I didn't really understand what was going on, except that mom had all the windows closed and I wasn't allowed to go outside. (Not fair!) There was a knock at the door. S.W.A.T. was on the other side. He told Mom that he had to check the house, because the inmate was last seen headed our direction. We were cleared, obviously.
The guys are all congregation in our driveway, after sweeping the park, and one of them yells. The inmate was spotted in the field behind the house. SWAT scatters and starts hauling ass toward the field, jumping the front fence, running through the yard, then jumping the back fence. My mom rushes outside to warn them:
"Watch out for the-" SPLASH! "-ditch behind the house..."
I giggled. Mom tried not to, but it was hard, seeing a man in full riot gear, covered head-to-toe, in mud, dripping wet and looking absolutely...miserable. Red clay mud. Sticky, thick, gets-into-every-pore kind of mud. (Awesome Mud Pie mud!) The LT is leaning against the back of the trailer, laughing his ass off. The Mud Man crawls out of the ditch, and mom manages to hand him a rag between her giggles.
"That'll teach you to be aware your surroundings," Mom tells him, causing the LT to laugh even harder.
I got a kick out of seeing it. I was a kid. What kid wouldn't laugh when someone fell into the mud? What strikes me now, a few years later, is that my mother gave him hell for it. She didn't hide her laughter for long, and as she helped him get cleaned up, she poked fun at him, just like she would have if it were me, or my brother, or anyone else who had fallen into the irrigation ditch behind the house.
She set the standard that I try to follow, today.
I noticed, a few weeks back, that one of our local cops got a new car. So, instead of simply acknowledging it to myself, I said, "Hey! You got the new one, huh?" He kind of grins like he's really excited about it and nods.
"You got the new fancy LED lights, too?" Another nod and smile.
"Can I see em?" I ask with a big grin, and just like a little kid showing off a new toy, turns on the lights and launches into explaining why they are as cool as they are.
See? People, just like us.
I have a lot friends who hate cops. Most of them have done jail time. There are a lot of people who are afraid of cops, which I don't understand. They're doing their job, getting paid far less than they should, to protect people, and their community. They get blamed for bullshit laws. Well, here's the thing: they don't write the laws, they simply enforce them. Hence the title: Law Enforcement Officer.
You have a problem with the laws, take it up with your Congressmen.
They're the real assholes.
Meh.
Oh, I know!
Cops.
No, not the TV show.
I like cops. I grew up around bikers and truckers, in a trailer park full of alcoholics and degenerates, but I like cops. (and firemen, and military boys...what? I'm not blind!)
In all the times I've been contacted by the police, I've come across maybe two assholes in the bunch.
I think my earliest memory of Police, and probably when I learned that they are just as human as the rest of us, comes from when I was about 4 or 5.
We lived in a trailer park, at the edge of a huge field, with a Federal Maximum Security Prison, on the opposite edge. (Florence, CO, if anyone cares.) There was a break-out. It happens more than you'd think, considering the huge fences and dozens of armed guards patrolling the perimeter.
Anyway!
There was a break-out, at the BOP Supermax. I didn't really understand what was going on, except that mom had all the windows closed and I wasn't allowed to go outside. (Not fair!) There was a knock at the door. S.W.A.T. was on the other side. He told Mom that he had to check the house, because the inmate was last seen headed our direction. We were cleared, obviously.
The guys are all congregation in our driveway, after sweeping the park, and one of them yells. The inmate was spotted in the field behind the house. SWAT scatters and starts hauling ass toward the field, jumping the front fence, running through the yard, then jumping the back fence. My mom rushes outside to warn them:
"Watch out for the-" SPLASH! "-ditch behind the house..."
I giggled. Mom tried not to, but it was hard, seeing a man in full riot gear, covered head-to-toe, in mud, dripping wet and looking absolutely...miserable. Red clay mud. Sticky, thick, gets-into-every-pore kind of mud. (Awesome Mud Pie mud!) The LT is leaning against the back of the trailer, laughing his ass off. The Mud Man crawls out of the ditch, and mom manages to hand him a rag between her giggles.
"That'll teach you to be aware your surroundings," Mom tells him, causing the LT to laugh even harder.
I got a kick out of seeing it. I was a kid. What kid wouldn't laugh when someone fell into the mud? What strikes me now, a few years later, is that my mother gave him hell for it. She didn't hide her laughter for long, and as she helped him get cleaned up, she poked fun at him, just like she would have if it were me, or my brother, or anyone else who had fallen into the irrigation ditch behind the house.
She set the standard that I try to follow, today.
I noticed, a few weeks back, that one of our local cops got a new car. So, instead of simply acknowledging it to myself, I said, "Hey! You got the new one, huh?" He kind of grins like he's really excited about it and nods.
"You got the new fancy LED lights, too?" Another nod and smile.
"Can I see em?" I ask with a big grin, and just like a little kid showing off a new toy, turns on the lights and launches into explaining why they are as cool as they are.
See? People, just like us.
I have a lot friends who hate cops. Most of them have done jail time. There are a lot of people who are afraid of cops, which I don't understand. They're doing their job, getting paid far less than they should, to protect people, and their community. They get blamed for bullshit laws. Well, here's the thing: they don't write the laws, they simply enforce them. Hence the title: Law Enforcement Officer.
You have a problem with the laws, take it up with your Congressmen.
They're the real assholes.
Shifting Gears
I hate, hate, hate whiny people who always think that they're right and everybody else is wrong. (*shuffles feet* No, not me. I know I'm always right...there's a difference. :P)
I have a FB friend, whom I've been friends with for a while. She's a sweet woman but a little over-dramatic about some things. It happens. It's happened to me. Not a big deal. Anyways...to get to the point of this particular rant:
People who cannot drive, park, or otherwise operate a motor vehicle in a correct manner, piss me off! It's really not all that difficult to learn how long and wide your vehicle is, and maneuver it, accordingly. It's not that hard (or it shouldn't be) to know where your skill level is, and not to put other people's lives at risk, because of your pride.
You! In that gigantic pickup! Yes, I realize you have a lift kit and 36" tires, but you don't need half of my lane, too... I promise, if a Kenworth can fit in one lane, so can your Dodge. Just sayin'.
You! In the compact coupe! I know the road can be a little intimidating when your the smallest thing out there, but I gave you plenty of room to slip in front of me, safely. Please, don't slam on your brakes right before you merge. You're gonna kill someone!
You, southern boy, who hasn't seen a flake of snow in his life, living in the North! Please, for the love of all that's holy, stay off the roads when it's icy! Don't assume that, just because you have a four-wheel drive, you;re going to be able to handle it. Yes, I understand you've been driving for 20 years. Yes, I understand that you've never had an accident. I get it. However, four-wheel drive does NOT mean four-wheel stop. Take a winter driving class, or stay off the damn road!
You! In the truck! (I love pick-up drivers... -_-) Just because you have a truck, does not mean you're going to make it through three-feet of running water. Stop trying it! You'll either A.) get stuck and put someone else's life at risk, when they try to rescue your dumb ass, or B.) suck water into your motor and kill your truck, then get pissed off at the city for not having "proper drainage"...mother-effer, if you has just stopped, or taken a different route, instead of trying to show off your manliness, you wouldn't have this problem.
Then there are the ones who drive too slow, or too fast...the ones who signal way too early, or not at all...the ones who leave their damn blinker on for 50 miles *twitch*...and...then there's my Facebook friend: *sigh*
She drives the Nissan. She is pissed off because the trucker got too close to her car.
Now, I'm not going to say what I believe is the problem, here. Take a look at the photo and tell me what you think made me laugh...
(The trucker is parked, length-wise, along the backend of the parking lot, where they should be, taking up multiple parking spaces...no that's not the issue I see. I'm just putting that out there for those who over-think things...people like me!)
Damn, he got close, didn't he? LOL! At least he know how big his vehicle is!
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Stereotypes, round 2! FIGHT!
I'm up late, and as is usual, I am browsing Facebook, just droning away the time.
Yesterday, I wrote about what women are expected to be like, according to men...Today, I'm going to flip it.
Women are just as bad as men when it comes to stereotyping. I'm guilty of it, and most of my friends are also guilty of it.
Men are supposed to be sex machines. They're supposed to know about cars, and be good at First Person Shooter video games. They're supposed to hairy, and strong, and emotionless. Men are good at fixing things, and breaking them. They have short tempers, and they're generally just assholes.
Right?
Men don't fall in love. They fall in "need"...or lust. Men cannot put aside their need for sex, to think rationally about their lives. After all, they only have enough blood to run one head at a time, right?
I came across the following writing, and it made me stop and think...hopefully it does the same for you:
""I once met a girl who made me believe in true love.
She was what I always dreamed about, what I never thought I’d actually have. She made me smile like never before, and gave me hope amidst all of my troubles.
Nothing else mattered but her hand in mine through it all.
Nothing else mattered.
I was in love, and it was the best feeling ever.
So I ignored the signs.
I ignored her increasing disinterest in what I had to say.
I ignored her irritability towards my flaws.
I ignored her lack of gratitude for all that I did for her.
I ignored everything that told me she wasn’t perfect.
Everything that told me this love I felt wasn’t real.
Then the day came when I could no longer lie to myself.
The truth slapped me in the face like no physical pain ever could.
I was crying on her porch, locked up in the fetal position.
She just stood over me, asking me to please stop.
I couldn’t just stop.
She was everything to me, and I was about to lose her forever.
I begged her to stay, I promised to be better.
But her mind was made up.
She had already moved on.
It’s been about five months since the day she broke up with me.
I used to think that it was her that I missed so deeply.
I have now come to realize that is not the truth.
What I miss is how I felt when I was with her.
How it feels to know someone will always be there for me.
How it feels to give every bit of my heart to someone unconditionally.
How it feels to have such blind faith in another human being.
How it feels to be in love.
I’m afraid now.
I’m afraid that how I felt with her won’t happen again.
I’m afraid that next time I won’t be so naive.
I’m afraid that a part of my heart is gone forever.
My only relief is in the hope that maybe one day someone will come along and prove me wrong.
Someone who removes all of my fears and doubts.
Someone who restores my heart’s innocence.
Someone who makes me feel whole again.
I can only hope."
By Robert Hemphill.
See, ladies?
Men love as much as we do, if not more.
Men have hearts, just the same as ours.
So what if he can't change the oil in the car? So what if he would rather read than watch sports?
Does he treat you right? Does he make you feel better when you're down? Does he do nice little things for you, just because he wants to see you smile?
Think it over, before you drop him for not fitting your preconceived notion of what men "should" be...
Let him be the man that he is.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Wow...Stereotype, much?
I have an online dating profile. A lot of us do, at this point, so that's not a huge surprise. However, I do get shocked by what men get away with saying in their profiles, on a daily basis. Here are some of my favorites:
"Women don't know what they want..."
"I'll treat you like a Queen..."
"I'm a nice guy, but women don't like nice guys..."
"Just looking for FWB, no drama..."
Taking those one-liners out of context, they aren't so bad. The first guy's profile went on to say that he would make sure that you got everything you didn't know you wanted. He'd also be so kind as to help you through difficult times, like childbearing, cleaning the house, and...Wait... Is this 1950?
The King, HA!, says that he'll lavish you with fine gifts like jewelry, spa days, and make sure that he does the cooking every now and then, too. He also won't be an absentee Father...Again, DAMMIT! Why can't you just stay out of my damn kitchen and let me raise the children like I'm supposed to do?!
The next one made me giggle all the way through the profile. He claims to be a nice guy. Maybe he is, but being nice and buying a woman's affection are not the same thing. He says he'll spoil his woman with lavish gifts, because being a mother is hard work and "you deserve only the best."... You know what else is hard work? Dealing with douchebags who think that the only thing a woman will ever do that will challenge her is raise children...
"Looking for FWB, no drama". Yeah, right. "I'll take you out somewhere nice and romance you," but he's not looking for drama? Is he sure? If you want to get laid, dude, do what the rest of us do. Pick up some poor schmuck at the bar. Leave the DATING websites to people who want to DATE!
Where do I start?
I don't think any of this is men's fault. They have been conditioned, by the media, by cartoons and comic books, by everyday life, that women are just... "soft". We women haven't done much to change the Ideal, for a long time. Sure, some of us work in "A Man's World," and some of us have more balls than men do, but most of us are lost. I'm not condemning those who chose to stay in the home and be that perfect housewife. Do your thing, if that's what makes you happy, but don't chastise the ones who have chosen not to have children, because they want a career.
There are so many stereotypes out there about women. We're nurturing, we like children, we fall in love easily, we like jewelry and chocolate and flowers, we love make-up and getting our hair and nails done, and we make good nurses, receptionists, and cashiers. Excuse me while I projectile vomit.
There.
That's better.
I don't like kids. I love my niece and nephew, but that "adorable" baby your friend just had? It looks like a pink blob. That screaming toddler isn't "going through a phase", it's just annoying. The 12-year-old girl with an attitude isn't "trying to find herself", she's just being a bitch.
I don't like jewelry, or makeup or getting my hair done. I own four bracelets. Two are Avengers Roxo bracelets, one is a rubber cookie monster thing, and the other is a leather strap. My earrings are 10 gauge, and going up...I haven't worn a ring since I lost my second turtle ring. And I won't wear makeup. Other women claim that it makes them feel better about themselves. I just get self-conscious when I'm done up, so it kind of defeats the purpose...
You know what I'm good at? Fixing shit. I've repaired plumbing, cars, wiring; installed windows and doors, rewired sound systems...most of the stereo-typically MALE things...that's what I'm good at. I love cars, trains, planes, motorcycles...if it has a motor, I'm enthralled by it. I like guns. I like getting dirty. I love hard, back-breaking, work. I enjoy working up a sweat. I cuss, I drink, I smoke. I play bloody, violent video games. And, I love sex.
My first thought, at this point, is to try and soften myself, because men like "Ladies"...*gags*... I could tell you about how feminine I can be, from time to time, and try to make myself more appealing, but I'm not going to. Why? Because fuck you and your stereotypes, that's why! I am me. I'm a selfish, self-righteous bitch, and I get along just fine without a man.
"But you have a dating profile!"
Yes, I do! Glad you noticed! I'm not going to bullshit you into thinking I'm some soft, kind, sweet, "proper" woman, and then have you get all shocked when I crawl under the car to change the oil, with a beer in my hand, belching all the way. I am who I am, and that's all that I am...(I am who I am. I'm a hooligan...sorry, had to finish the lyric)
You can't handle me. That's not a challenge. It's just a fact. A lot of the guys I've met are intrigued that I'm into cars and sports and shooting... They think it'd be nice to take their girlfriend with them to a game, or to the range. It's all fine and dandy, til they tell me to make them dinner, and I say, "Fuck off, your legs ain't broke. Make your own dinner." Then, proceed to sit down with my food and eat in front of them.
You won't handle me. You think you will, but you're wrong.
"Women don't know what they want..."
"I'll treat you like a Queen..."
"I'm a nice guy, but women don't like nice guys..."
"Just looking for FWB, no drama..."
Taking those one-liners out of context, they aren't so bad. The first guy's profile went on to say that he would make sure that you got everything you didn't know you wanted. He'd also be so kind as to help you through difficult times, like childbearing, cleaning the house, and...Wait... Is this 1950?
The King, HA!, says that he'll lavish you with fine gifts like jewelry, spa days, and make sure that he does the cooking every now and then, too. He also won't be an absentee Father...Again, DAMMIT! Why can't you just stay out of my damn kitchen and let me raise the children like I'm supposed to do?!
The next one made me giggle all the way through the profile. He claims to be a nice guy. Maybe he is, but being nice and buying a woman's affection are not the same thing. He says he'll spoil his woman with lavish gifts, because being a mother is hard work and "you deserve only the best."... You know what else is hard work? Dealing with douchebags who think that the only thing a woman will ever do that will challenge her is raise children...
"Looking for FWB, no drama". Yeah, right. "I'll take you out somewhere nice and romance you," but he's not looking for drama? Is he sure? If you want to get laid, dude, do what the rest of us do. Pick up some poor schmuck at the bar. Leave the DATING websites to people who want to DATE!
Where do I start?
I don't think any of this is men's fault. They have been conditioned, by the media, by cartoons and comic books, by everyday life, that women are just... "soft". We women haven't done much to change the Ideal, for a long time. Sure, some of us work in "A Man's World," and some of us have more balls than men do, but most of us are lost. I'm not condemning those who chose to stay in the home and be that perfect housewife. Do your thing, if that's what makes you happy, but don't chastise the ones who have chosen not to have children, because they want a career.
There are so many stereotypes out there about women. We're nurturing, we like children, we fall in love easily, we like jewelry and chocolate and flowers, we love make-up and getting our hair and nails done, and we make good nurses, receptionists, and cashiers. Excuse me while I projectile vomit.
There.
That's better.
I don't like kids. I love my niece and nephew, but that "adorable" baby your friend just had? It looks like a pink blob. That screaming toddler isn't "going through a phase", it's just annoying. The 12-year-old girl with an attitude isn't "trying to find herself", she's just being a bitch.
I don't like jewelry, or makeup or getting my hair done. I own four bracelets. Two are Avengers Roxo bracelets, one is a rubber cookie monster thing, and the other is a leather strap. My earrings are 10 gauge, and going up...I haven't worn a ring since I lost my second turtle ring. And I won't wear makeup. Other women claim that it makes them feel better about themselves. I just get self-conscious when I'm done up, so it kind of defeats the purpose...
You know what I'm good at? Fixing shit. I've repaired plumbing, cars, wiring; installed windows and doors, rewired sound systems...most of the stereo-typically MALE things...that's what I'm good at. I love cars, trains, planes, motorcycles...if it has a motor, I'm enthralled by it. I like guns. I like getting dirty. I love hard, back-breaking, work. I enjoy working up a sweat. I cuss, I drink, I smoke. I play bloody, violent video games. And, I love sex.
My first thought, at this point, is to try and soften myself, because men like "Ladies"...*gags*... I could tell you about how feminine I can be, from time to time, and try to make myself more appealing, but I'm not going to. Why? Because fuck you and your stereotypes, that's why! I am me. I'm a selfish, self-righteous bitch, and I get along just fine without a man.
"But you have a dating profile!"
Yes, I do! Glad you noticed! I'm not going to bullshit you into thinking I'm some soft, kind, sweet, "proper" woman, and then have you get all shocked when I crawl under the car to change the oil, with a beer in my hand, belching all the way. I am who I am, and that's all that I am...(I am who I am. I'm a hooligan...sorry, had to finish the lyric)
You can't handle me. That's not a challenge. It's just a fact. A lot of the guys I've met are intrigued that I'm into cars and sports and shooting... They think it'd be nice to take their girlfriend with them to a game, or to the range. It's all fine and dandy, til they tell me to make them dinner, and I say, "Fuck off, your legs ain't broke. Make your own dinner." Then, proceed to sit down with my food and eat in front of them.
You won't handle me. You think you will, but you're wrong.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Back to the Drawing Board...
I finally did it.
I stopped listening to the lies and accepting the deceit.
I kicked him out.
Well, that's not entirely true. He packed his stuff and left on his own, because he wasn't willing to work on...anything.
I told him, a few days ago, straight-up, that he was not providing me with what I needed in the relationship. He rolled his eyes, and I just sighed a bit, knowing what was going to happen, next. I told him that I wanted him to think about whether he wanted me, or whether he just wanted the convenience of a girlfriend, and to decide if he was going to leave, or stay.
He left on Tuesday.
I was sad...for a minute. Then, I realized that I wasn't really going to miss him. I was going to miss the idea of what he could have been, had he not cheated on me and used me to his own desires.
So, yeah, within the span of 7 hours, I was over him.
It was a learning experience, for me.
I learned that, even though I have incredibly acute instincts, my emotions will fog my judgement. That's something that I've been trying to "fix" for the last 5 years. It's gotten much better, but it still needs work. I need to figure out a way to think objectively and logically, especially when the man I love is around. You see...I'm good at "knowing" that I'm being used and that I need to something about it while he is at work, or otherwise away from me, but as soon as I see him, I cave.
*gags*
So, yeah, I'm single, again...which is honestly what I prefer, anyway. It was nice to have someone to come home to, and it was nice to be able to curl up with a man on a cold night, but it's really not worth the baggage that came along with it. And, yes, though I'm jaded, I know not every man will use me...though, if they do, I'd prefer they use me for sex, rather than a vehicle and a roof.
Seriously, though...
We had sex 3 times in 2 months.
THREE TIMES!
If he'd have just fucked my brains out every night, he could have continued to use me for the vehicle and the roof. I wouldn't have cared a bit. At least then I would have been getting SOMETHING out of it.
Men.
Are.
Idiots.
I stopped listening to the lies and accepting the deceit.
I kicked him out.
Well, that's not entirely true. He packed his stuff and left on his own, because he wasn't willing to work on...anything.
I told him, a few days ago, straight-up, that he was not providing me with what I needed in the relationship. He rolled his eyes, and I just sighed a bit, knowing what was going to happen, next. I told him that I wanted him to think about whether he wanted me, or whether he just wanted the convenience of a girlfriend, and to decide if he was going to leave, or stay.
He left on Tuesday.
I was sad...for a minute. Then, I realized that I wasn't really going to miss him. I was going to miss the idea of what he could have been, had he not cheated on me and used me to his own desires.
So, yeah, within the span of 7 hours, I was over him.
It was a learning experience, for me.
I learned that, even though I have incredibly acute instincts, my emotions will fog my judgement. That's something that I've been trying to "fix" for the last 5 years. It's gotten much better, but it still needs work. I need to figure out a way to think objectively and logically, especially when the man I love is around. You see...I'm good at "knowing" that I'm being used and that I need to something about it while he is at work, or otherwise away from me, but as soon as I see him, I cave.
*gags*
So, yeah, I'm single, again...which is honestly what I prefer, anyway. It was nice to have someone to come home to, and it was nice to be able to curl up with a man on a cold night, but it's really not worth the baggage that came along with it. And, yes, though I'm jaded, I know not every man will use me...though, if they do, I'd prefer they use me for sex, rather than a vehicle and a roof.
Seriously, though...
We had sex 3 times in 2 months.
THREE TIMES!
If he'd have just fucked my brains out every night, he could have continued to use me for the vehicle and the roof. I wouldn't have cared a bit. At least then I would have been getting SOMETHING out of it.
Men.
Are.
Idiots.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Ack! Holiday!
Happy Turkey Day!
There. I've acknowledged your existence in my life, and the holiday...can I go back to bed now?
No? I'm forced to socialize with you? WHY!?
Oh. We're family. Well, way to guilt me into it. I'll spend the rest of the day with people I'd really rather never see, because we happened to be related. Sounds fantastic.
Don't get me wrong! I love my family...most of them...most of the time. The problem is, I'm the black sheep. I'm the almost-thirty-spinster who "can't keep a man or a job" (*won't* keep a man...the job thing is true) and is going to "die miserable and alone". Yeah, well, so are you, dick. I have "more cats than sense". So not true. I have 4 cats, and I have a whole jar of cents. (HA!)
I'm the alcoholic of the family, because I enjoy myself. I'm unhealthy, because I smoke. I'm also entirely too easy to use, apparently. Nobody ever calls to just say hi...it's only when they want something out of me.
Oh, which reminds me! I'm also the family slut. (Because I won't keep a man...kinda goes without saying, doesn't it?)
"Bitter, much?" You ask. "This is the time to be thankful for all that you have, not to go on a bitch-fest. You're just an ungrateful brat!"
*takes a bow*
I am thankful for what I have. Mostly, my sense of people. I am extremely grateful for my common sense and my ability to read between the lines of what people are saying to get to what they are *actually saying*.
I'm thankful for my friends' parents, who took me in when I had nowhere else to go, something my own "blood" wouldn't do.
I'm thankful for my friends, themselves, who are more like family to me than the one I was born into.
I'm thankful for my cats. (Look out! Crazy Cat Lady coming through!)
I'm thankful for steady meals.
I'm thankful to just be alive. Life is the best adventure story I will ever experience!
I'm not, however, thankful for this god-forsaken time of year. The fake smiles and false promises. The bullshit we tell ourselves so we make that phone call we've been dreading all year.
Seriously, though. If your family is so fucking important to you, why do you only make the effort to prove it, a couple times a year?
I hate the holidays.
There. I've acknowledged your existence in my life, and the holiday...can I go back to bed now?
No? I'm forced to socialize with you? WHY!?
Oh. We're family. Well, way to guilt me into it. I'll spend the rest of the day with people I'd really rather never see, because we happened to be related. Sounds fantastic.
Don't get me wrong! I love my family...most of them...most of the time. The problem is, I'm the black sheep. I'm the almost-thirty-spinster who "can't keep a man or a job" (*won't* keep a man...the job thing is true) and is going to "die miserable and alone". Yeah, well, so are you, dick. I have "more cats than sense". So not true. I have 4 cats, and I have a whole jar of cents. (HA!)
I'm the alcoholic of the family, because I enjoy myself. I'm unhealthy, because I smoke. I'm also entirely too easy to use, apparently. Nobody ever calls to just say hi...it's only when they want something out of me.
Oh, which reminds me! I'm also the family slut. (Because I won't keep a man...kinda goes without saying, doesn't it?)
"Bitter, much?" You ask. "This is the time to be thankful for all that you have, not to go on a bitch-fest. You're just an ungrateful brat!"
*takes a bow*
I am thankful for what I have. Mostly, my sense of people. I am extremely grateful for my common sense and my ability to read between the lines of what people are saying to get to what they are *actually saying*.
I'm thankful for my friends' parents, who took me in when I had nowhere else to go, something my own "blood" wouldn't do.
I'm thankful for my friends, themselves, who are more like family to me than the one I was born into.
I'm thankful for my cats. (Look out! Crazy Cat Lady coming through!)
I'm thankful for steady meals.
I'm thankful to just be alive. Life is the best adventure story I will ever experience!
I'm not, however, thankful for this god-forsaken time of year. The fake smiles and false promises. The bullshit we tell ourselves so we make that phone call we've been dreading all year.
Seriously, though. If your family is so fucking important to you, why do you only make the effort to prove it, a couple times a year?
I hate the holidays.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Hide and Seek
The quickest way to get me not to trust you is to hide shit. It doesn't have to be life-or-death shit, either. If you're not 100%, up-front and honest with me, I consider you a liar. I hate liars.
This is pretty much THE reason I don't talk to my family...ever. There are so many "secrets" in that fold that I don't even know who's telling the truth anymore. I just stay out of it. If someone really needs me, they can call and I'll be there, but I don't go visiting just to say hi. Nope.
Which leads back to why I can't stand the holiday season. Everybody is all smiles and fake niceties for two or three days a year, then it's right back to lies, back-stabbing and bitchiness. Yeah...I'm kinda good with all that. I much prefer to sit at home with my cats and watch TV than deal with my family.
Back to liars. It seems that I have a tendency to surround myself with them. Every man I fall for is a liar. Every one of them. Some are just embellishers of the truth, others flat-out lie to my face. (Ironically, I prefer the ones who lie to my face. At least they have balls.)
When a woman asks a man if he's single, and he's not, his response should be "No." Right? That's the truth. The fact that D lies about being single to these online bitches pisses me off. I get it. It's nice to flirt, every now and then, but when you tell a woman you're single, you set expectations that the flirting might lead to more. It's unbelievable how many women he tells that to, too. Jesus.
He told me the same thing, which makes me wonder how many girls he was stringing along before he moved in, here...and how many he still has on the hook, honestly. When I met him, online, I asked him if he'd had any luck with meeting anyone, yet. His response: "Not a single date." I thought to myself that it sucked and offered to have him come down so we could meet. Who else has done that? How many women have offered to meet him because of that tired old line?
Now, we could be optimistic here and say, "Well, he's living with me, so what does it matter?" It matters. If he's not telling other women that he's got a girlfriend...that he's LIVING with his girlfriend...then he's looking for something else. He's either a pathological cheater, or he wants a "Safety Net". He's the kind of man who has to have someone. He's hasn't been single for more than 6-months, since he was 15! ....15! That's 17 years of measuring his self-worth by whether or not he's single.
That's a little too much baggage, I think. Even for me.
The question is, what do I do now?
Every instinct in my body is telling me to leave.
My heart is telling me otherwise.
I have this distinct feeling that as soon as his truck is out of the shop, he'll be gone, anyway. I honestly think the only reason he's sticking around is because he has no other way to get around, at the moment, other than my sister's truck...
We'll see...
This is pretty much THE reason I don't talk to my family...ever. There are so many "secrets" in that fold that I don't even know who's telling the truth anymore. I just stay out of it. If someone really needs me, they can call and I'll be there, but I don't go visiting just to say hi. Nope.
Which leads back to why I can't stand the holiday season. Everybody is all smiles and fake niceties for two or three days a year, then it's right back to lies, back-stabbing and bitchiness. Yeah...I'm kinda good with all that. I much prefer to sit at home with my cats and watch TV than deal with my family.
Back to liars. It seems that I have a tendency to surround myself with them. Every man I fall for is a liar. Every one of them. Some are just embellishers of the truth, others flat-out lie to my face. (Ironically, I prefer the ones who lie to my face. At least they have balls.)
When a woman asks a man if he's single, and he's not, his response should be "No." Right? That's the truth. The fact that D lies about being single to these online bitches pisses me off. I get it. It's nice to flirt, every now and then, but when you tell a woman you're single, you set expectations that the flirting might lead to more. It's unbelievable how many women he tells that to, too. Jesus.
He told me the same thing, which makes me wonder how many girls he was stringing along before he moved in, here...and how many he still has on the hook, honestly. When I met him, online, I asked him if he'd had any luck with meeting anyone, yet. His response: "Not a single date." I thought to myself that it sucked and offered to have him come down so we could meet. Who else has done that? How many women have offered to meet him because of that tired old line?
Now, we could be optimistic here and say, "Well, he's living with me, so what does it matter?" It matters. If he's not telling other women that he's got a girlfriend...that he's LIVING with his girlfriend...then he's looking for something else. He's either a pathological cheater, or he wants a "Safety Net". He's the kind of man who has to have someone. He's hasn't been single for more than 6-months, since he was 15! ....15! That's 17 years of measuring his self-worth by whether or not he's single.
That's a little too much baggage, I think. Even for me.
The question is, what do I do now?
Every instinct in my body is telling me to leave.
My heart is telling me otherwise.
I have this distinct feeling that as soon as his truck is out of the shop, he'll be gone, anyway. I honestly think the only reason he's sticking around is because he has no other way to get around, at the moment, other than my sister's truck...
We'll see...
Monday, November 18, 2013
You're Doing it Wrong
*facepalm*
OK!
It seems I need to go over some very basic rules of relationships. Again.
#1. Don't cheat.
#2. If you're going to cheat, don't be stupid about it.
*sigh*
I'm not an idiot. My heart tends to govern my head, most of the time, but I'm not an idiot. I know when something isn't right. I have instincts. Most people do. This is why, if you're going to cheat on the person who loves you, you need to take extra caution not to raise suspicions. There is no better detective than a suspicious woman. Believe that. (Women cheat, too...however, men tend to be more of the "don't-get-mad-get-even" mindset, so there's less...destruction when a woman is caught...)
I'm not an idiot. (Am I trying to convince myself, or you?)
Yeah...so, long post short...here goes:
How Not to Get Caught Cheating
#1. No paper trails.
This one seems simple as deleting messaging history and using cash, but it's not. Nothing sets off red flags more than a man who spends a lot of time on his phone, with an empty message cache. That $41.50 charge at the gas station, for a pack of gum? ...really, guys? *sighs* Amateurs.
Leave messages in your cache. (Not those ones, you moron...) Don't delete your whole inbox just because of a few naughty messages. As soon as you get a picture of those firm young tits, delete it. If you want to lick your mistress's...(um...yeah...ew, btw...) yahoo, tell her that shit in person. Have a text conversation with your mistress. A normal, everyday conversation, and leave it there to be seen. If your wife asks (AND ONLY IF SHE ASKS!), tell her it's a girl you met online about the same time you met her (your wife), or "Sheila's a gal from the office. I changed her tire the other day. Sweet girl." That's all you need. Change the subject, QUICK, and use some subtlety. (...we'll go over how to be SUBTLE in a minute, just bear with me...)
No cash ATM withdrawals. No huge Cash Back advances ($5-10 when you get gas is usually the best bet, and PAY INSIDE). If you get a paper check, cash it, don't deposit it. Put aside a little cash for your rendezvouses, and deposit the rest in the joint account. Don't open a separate account. (You'll forget a deposit slip, somewhere, someday, and then you're fucked...figuratively speaking.)
#2. Don't stop having sex with your current partner. (Side note: DUH!)
A man will not NOT touch a woman he is attracted to. Period. If he's in love with you (hell, even if he's in LIKE with you, or maybe you just met at the bar, or the movies...), he will paw you from dawn until dusk. Sex is important in a relationship, especially to men. The only reason a man will ever stop fucking HIS woman is because he's either A) no longer attracted to you (tough break, kiddo) or B) Looking to get his rocks off, elsewhere (or he already is). So, if you want to keep the home and the mistress, FUCK YOUR WIFE! (And make her scream, dude...none of this obligatory bullshit, either.)
#3. Stop bragging about it.
Bullshit, you do too. Men have an inherent need to be Bigger and Better. So, when your single buddies start bragging about the girl they banged the night before, you MUST control yourself. One of your guy friends could very well be a friend of your wife, too. It will get back to her. So, stop it!
#4. Don't talk down about your wife to anybody. EVER!
Even the odd comment about nagging wives in the line at the supermarket will dig you into a hole you will not get out of in one piece. You are her champion, even if you are a sniveling, lying dirtbag. She, regardless of what you do behind her back, is the most important person in your life. She's gotten you out of more scraps than your mother, no doubt. Show some fucking respect!
#5. Don't volunteer information.
"Oh, my friend Sheila, at work..." "Sheila said something so funny, today..." "Sheila was flirting with me..." "Sheila..." "Sheila..." "Sheila..." We don't care. K? We don't give a flying fuck what another woman did for you, or to you, or AT you, or WITH you...ever. Ok? As far as we are concerned, WE (wives) are the *only* woman in your life. Period. The more you talk about other women, the more we suspect you. Once we suspect that you're cheating, we're like bloodhounds. Any detail you've forgotten about will be found, and scrutinized deeply. Make it harder for us by never mentioning another woman's name (other than her friends or your family. period) ever.
#6. Be subtle.
I know this one is hard for you. It's not your fault. You are almost *genetically incapable* of being subtle. Even males of other species are more adept at Flashy, LOOK-AT-ME, LOOK-AT-ME, Games than subtlety. It's ok. I'll walk you through it.
Notice that your wife got a haircut? No you didn't...trust me...We don't expect you to notice, so when you do, it's just weird to us. Don't be weird.
See that really hot waitress? Take a look. Don't drool on yourselves or go out of your way to turn around in your chair to see her ass. Glance at her when she walks by the table, and when your wife raises an eyebrow at you, wink and grin. She'll probably roll her eyes and go back to the menu. (Use caution with that one. If you know you have a jealous woman, don't do that one. That one will get you hurt.)
When you see your mistress out and about, don't go out of your way to ignore her. This one is tricky... If you see the Other Woman at a bar, go up and say hi. Give her a brief hug and tell her, quietly, that your wife is there. Then, point her out and tell her to wave. Your wife will get her hackles raised, almost guaranteed (remember that WE are the only women in your life that matter). Now, you head back over to your wife and wait for her to ask questions. Again, DO NOT volunteer information! If she wants to know, she'll ask. If she asks you, keep it brief. "Gal from work..." (GAL or GIRL or LADY...never, ever, ever, ever, FUCKING EVER! use the word "Friend"...dead man walking) "...Gal from work." Yeah. That's all you need to tell her. Don't worry about her asking the other woman. We women are conniving bitches and two-faced as hell. Your mistress doesn't want her ass beaten, so she'll cover for you.
Which brings us to the most important one...
#7. Set expectation and boundaries with the mistress.
Don't forget to do this. Lay down the law, here. Tell her only the truth. We already know you're a coward, so don't promise to leave your wife for her. (You would have left, by now, if you're so unhappy.) Let the other woman know that you have a family, a house and a job that you will not sacrifice for her, and that she is just a release from all that entails.
Do not let her call or text you when you are home.
Do not, under any circumstances, give her your home number or your wife's number. (Idiots.)
Don't add her on Facebook. (Again, idiots.)
She does not exist unless you are at her place, or the hotel. Period. (If she does, then it's time to reconsider the marriage...you're looking for more than just sex.)
Finally, I just have to say, don't cheat. Jesus Christ. You're a grown fucking man. Get over yourself, alright. You made the decision to commit yourself to ONE woman for the rest of your life. Follow through. Don't be a bitch and pull out half-way through the marathon. Jesus. Just....wow, you pussy.
If something is wrong with the relationship you're in, either get out or fix it. Be a fucking man, you pussy.
OK!
It seems I need to go over some very basic rules of relationships. Again.
#1. Don't cheat.
#2. If you're going to cheat, don't be stupid about it.
*sigh*
I'm not an idiot. My heart tends to govern my head, most of the time, but I'm not an idiot. I know when something isn't right. I have instincts. Most people do. This is why, if you're going to cheat on the person who loves you, you need to take extra caution not to raise suspicions. There is no better detective than a suspicious woman. Believe that. (Women cheat, too...however, men tend to be more of the "don't-get-mad-get-even" mindset, so there's less...destruction when a woman is caught...)
I'm not an idiot. (Am I trying to convince myself, or you?)
Yeah...so, long post short...here goes:
How Not to Get Caught Cheating
#1. No paper trails.
This one seems simple as deleting messaging history and using cash, but it's not. Nothing sets off red flags more than a man who spends a lot of time on his phone, with an empty message cache. That $41.50 charge at the gas station, for a pack of gum? ...really, guys? *sighs* Amateurs.
Leave messages in your cache. (Not those ones, you moron...) Don't delete your whole inbox just because of a few naughty messages. As soon as you get a picture of those firm young tits, delete it. If you want to lick your mistress's...(um...yeah...ew, btw...) yahoo, tell her that shit in person. Have a text conversation with your mistress. A normal, everyday conversation, and leave it there to be seen. If your wife asks (AND ONLY IF SHE ASKS!), tell her it's a girl you met online about the same time you met her (your wife), or "Sheila's a gal from the office. I changed her tire the other day. Sweet girl." That's all you need. Change the subject, QUICK, and use some subtlety. (...we'll go over how to be SUBTLE in a minute, just bear with me...)
No cash ATM withdrawals. No huge Cash Back advances ($5-10 when you get gas is usually the best bet, and PAY INSIDE). If you get a paper check, cash it, don't deposit it. Put aside a little cash for your rendezvouses, and deposit the rest in the joint account. Don't open a separate account. (You'll forget a deposit slip, somewhere, someday, and then you're fucked...figuratively speaking.)
#2. Don't stop having sex with your current partner. (Side note: DUH!)
A man will not NOT touch a woman he is attracted to. Period. If he's in love with you (hell, even if he's in LIKE with you, or maybe you just met at the bar, or the movies...), he will paw you from dawn until dusk. Sex is important in a relationship, especially to men. The only reason a man will ever stop fucking HIS woman is because he's either A) no longer attracted to you (tough break, kiddo) or B) Looking to get his rocks off, elsewhere (or he already is). So, if you want to keep the home and the mistress, FUCK YOUR WIFE! (And make her scream, dude...none of this obligatory bullshit, either.)
#3. Stop bragging about it.
Bullshit, you do too. Men have an inherent need to be Bigger and Better. So, when your single buddies start bragging about the girl they banged the night before, you MUST control yourself. One of your guy friends could very well be a friend of your wife, too. It will get back to her. So, stop it!
#4. Don't talk down about your wife to anybody. EVER!
Even the odd comment about nagging wives in the line at the supermarket will dig you into a hole you will not get out of in one piece. You are her champion, even if you are a sniveling, lying dirtbag. She, regardless of what you do behind her back, is the most important person in your life. She's gotten you out of more scraps than your mother, no doubt. Show some fucking respect!
#5. Don't volunteer information.
"Oh, my friend Sheila, at work..." "Sheila said something so funny, today..." "Sheila was flirting with me..." "Sheila..." "Sheila..." "Sheila..." We don't care. K? We don't give a flying fuck what another woman did for you, or to you, or AT you, or WITH you...ever. Ok? As far as we are concerned, WE (wives) are the *only* woman in your life. Period. The more you talk about other women, the more we suspect you. Once we suspect that you're cheating, we're like bloodhounds. Any detail you've forgotten about will be found, and scrutinized deeply. Make it harder for us by never mentioning another woman's name (other than her friends or your family. period) ever.
#6. Be subtle.
I know this one is hard for you. It's not your fault. You are almost *genetically incapable* of being subtle. Even males of other species are more adept at Flashy, LOOK-AT-ME, LOOK-AT-ME, Games than subtlety. It's ok. I'll walk you through it.
Notice that your wife got a haircut? No you didn't...trust me...We don't expect you to notice, so when you do, it's just weird to us. Don't be weird.
See that really hot waitress? Take a look. Don't drool on yourselves or go out of your way to turn around in your chair to see her ass. Glance at her when she walks by the table, and when your wife raises an eyebrow at you, wink and grin. She'll probably roll her eyes and go back to the menu. (Use caution with that one. If you know you have a jealous woman, don't do that one. That one will get you hurt.)
When you see your mistress out and about, don't go out of your way to ignore her. This one is tricky... If you see the Other Woman at a bar, go up and say hi. Give her a brief hug and tell her, quietly, that your wife is there. Then, point her out and tell her to wave. Your wife will get her hackles raised, almost guaranteed (remember that WE are the only women in your life that matter). Now, you head back over to your wife and wait for her to ask questions. Again, DO NOT volunteer information! If she wants to know, she'll ask. If she asks you, keep it brief. "Gal from work..." (GAL or GIRL or LADY...never, ever, ever, ever, FUCKING EVER! use the word "Friend"...dead man walking) "...Gal from work." Yeah. That's all you need to tell her. Don't worry about her asking the other woman. We women are conniving bitches and two-faced as hell. Your mistress doesn't want her ass beaten, so she'll cover for you.
Which brings us to the most important one...
#7. Set expectation and boundaries with the mistress.
Don't forget to do this. Lay down the law, here. Tell her only the truth. We already know you're a coward, so don't promise to leave your wife for her. (You would have left, by now, if you're so unhappy.) Let the other woman know that you have a family, a house and a job that you will not sacrifice for her, and that she is just a release from all that entails.
Do not let her call or text you when you are home.
Do not, under any circumstances, give her your home number or your wife's number. (Idiots.)
Don't add her on Facebook. (Again, idiots.)
She does not exist unless you are at her place, or the hotel. Period. (If she does, then it's time to reconsider the marriage...you're looking for more than just sex.)
Finally, I just have to say, don't cheat. Jesus Christ. You're a grown fucking man. Get over yourself, alright. You made the decision to commit yourself to ONE woman for the rest of your life. Follow through. Don't be a bitch and pull out half-way through the marathon. Jesus. Just....wow, you pussy.
If something is wrong with the relationship you're in, either get out or fix it. Be a fucking man, you pussy.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Always trust your instincts...ALWAYS!
Yeah, so...
Men are morons...
Well, not ALL men. My dad was pretty cool...
I should have learned, by now, after everything that I've been put through, to trust my instincts. Nope. That lesson hasn't been thoroughly slammed home, apparently. I am so done with liars. Just done. (Warning: The following post may contain man-bashing, cussing, and will most definitely be a rant!)
"Mindy"...
Mindy is the reason my boyfriend hasn't made a sexual advance toward me in almost a month; I practically had to beg him for sex, last time, and that was almost a week ago... Mindy is the reason he has been on his phone more often than not. Mindy is the reason he got grabby when I picked his phone up off the shelf, the other day, to plug it into the charger... (Which was another mistake he made...that just screams "I'm hiding something!")
Though, when I think about it, I was never really blind. I've had a nagging feeling in the back of my head for at least the last couple weeks. My instincts have been telling me to back away. I just didn't do it. That stupidity lies solely on me. Live and...do the same things over and over again, apparently. Oy!
I've had this feeling that he's been unfaithful for a while now. Never had the proof, til a couple weeks ago (even that was "sketchy"...all I could prove was that he was flirting, online, with another woman: Mindy). Yes, I found that information in all the wrong ways. I snooped. It was wrong, but he would have lied to me if I had just asked him about it. Still, I invaded his privacy and I regret doing it; not the act itself, honestly, but I really wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then.
I even went so far as to contact this "Mindy" person. She, of course, denied everything, until I told her that she has nice tits in her pink tank top. Yeah, bitch, caught you in a lie, too. They've "been friends for a while. Never met, no plans to meet." ...riiiiight. Whatever you say, sweetie.
This isn't about her, though...or the indiscretion. This is about the fact that, when I brought up that he flirts a lot online, he denied it. He looked me in my eyes and said, "I talk to a lot of people, but I never flirt." Fucking LIAR!
All he would have had to say is..."Yeah, I flirt, but that's all it is. I come home to you"...or something similar and NONE of this would have happened. I wouldn't have gone through his phone. I wouldn't have seen proof that he's planning to meet this woman and that he wants to "spank her" because she's a "naughty little girl for showing" him her tits and pressing his "horny button". Fuck my life. Ew.
I've been nothing but faithful to him, and believe me, I've had the chances...notice the pluralization. I get up before him to make breakfast and start coffee for him. I make sure he's taken care of when he's sick or in pain. I make him laugh when he's "blah"... Not saying I'm perfect, but God Dammit, I've been GOOD to him. He thanks me by doing shit behind my back.
Motherfucker, if you want to flirt, then fucking FLIRT! I don't give a damn! But don't LIE to me, to my face, about it. Pull up your MeetMe profile and your POF profile and whatever else you have, and talk to the bitches while I'm in the room, so I know you have nothing to hide. And, hey! If you get nervous that I'm going to see what your saying to this other woman, maybe you SHOULDN'T BE SAYING IT TO HER!!! That's your conscience's way of saying, "This is wrong! Knock it off!"
My cop friend (yes, that one) invited me out for a ride-along, last night, but I didn't go. Why? Because I didn't feel right doing it, knowing that my man was at home. I made that decision, not based on what I wanted (really, really wanted to go) but rather on how it would make my man feel. Why is that so fucking hard for his tiny brain to comprehend!? It doesn't matter what you want to do, sometimes; sometimes it matters how your actions are going to affect those you love.
Don't do something that you know is going to upset your significant other, just for the sake of "I do what I want!" ...ok, Cartman! Fucking CHILD!
Teenage bullshit! "I shouldn't be doing this, because my mommy would be mad, but I'm going to do it anyway, because I'm a fucking badass! Look how Badass I am! :P"
So, now, the decision I have to make, on my own, is whether or not to confront him, AGAIN, but with proof, this time... I don't know. Maybe I should just throw his shit outside and lock the door. Or throw it in the burn bin... No, I won't destroy his stuff. Taking away his roof and access to a vehicle would be enough of a kick to the face.
Or, do I take the high ground and try to talk through this? Do I try to get him to come clean with me, to confess? Then what? Do I reward the bad behavior (cheating) or the good (honesty) by letting him stay? Or, do I say nothing and just do a little indiscretion of my own? (That would be vindictive, yes, I know...)
You know what the kicker, here, is?
I asked him, when we first got together, what he considers "cheating"...everyone has their own boundaries, and it's a good idea to know what those boundaries are so they aren't crossed, accidentally.
He said: "Talking to any other man as if you were talking to me." He doesn't care that I have guy friends, as long as I don't talk about how much I want their cock. (lol, sorry, I'm 12: COCK!) So, by his own definition, he has cheated on me! What kind of fuckery is that?!
I just...
What?!
Jesus Christ.
THIS IS WHY I MISS BEING SINGLE!
Men are morons...
Well, not ALL men. My dad was pretty cool...
I should have learned, by now, after everything that I've been put through, to trust my instincts. Nope. That lesson hasn't been thoroughly slammed home, apparently. I am so done with liars. Just done. (Warning: The following post may contain man-bashing, cussing, and will most definitely be a rant!)
"Mindy"...
Mindy is the reason my boyfriend hasn't made a sexual advance toward me in almost a month; I practically had to beg him for sex, last time, and that was almost a week ago... Mindy is the reason he has been on his phone more often than not. Mindy is the reason he got grabby when I picked his phone up off the shelf, the other day, to plug it into the charger... (Which was another mistake he made...that just screams "I'm hiding something!")
Though, when I think about it, I was never really blind. I've had a nagging feeling in the back of my head for at least the last couple weeks. My instincts have been telling me to back away. I just didn't do it. That stupidity lies solely on me. Live and...do the same things over and over again, apparently. Oy!
I've had this feeling that he's been unfaithful for a while now. Never had the proof, til a couple weeks ago (even that was "sketchy"...all I could prove was that he was flirting, online, with another woman: Mindy). Yes, I found that information in all the wrong ways. I snooped. It was wrong, but he would have lied to me if I had just asked him about it. Still, I invaded his privacy and I regret doing it; not the act itself, honestly, but I really wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then.
I even went so far as to contact this "Mindy" person. She, of course, denied everything, until I told her that she has nice tits in her pink tank top. Yeah, bitch, caught you in a lie, too. They've "been friends for a while. Never met, no plans to meet." ...riiiiight. Whatever you say, sweetie.
This isn't about her, though...or the indiscretion. This is about the fact that, when I brought up that he flirts a lot online, he denied it. He looked me in my eyes and said, "I talk to a lot of people, but I never flirt." Fucking LIAR!
All he would have had to say is..."Yeah, I flirt, but that's all it is. I come home to you"...or something similar and NONE of this would have happened. I wouldn't have gone through his phone. I wouldn't have seen proof that he's planning to meet this woman and that he wants to "spank her" because she's a "naughty little girl for showing" him her tits and pressing his "horny button". Fuck my life. Ew.
I've been nothing but faithful to him, and believe me, I've had the chances...notice the pluralization. I get up before him to make breakfast and start coffee for him. I make sure he's taken care of when he's sick or in pain. I make him laugh when he's "blah"... Not saying I'm perfect, but God Dammit, I've been GOOD to him. He thanks me by doing shit behind my back.
Motherfucker, if you want to flirt, then fucking FLIRT! I don't give a damn! But don't LIE to me, to my face, about it. Pull up your MeetMe profile and your POF profile and whatever else you have, and talk to the bitches while I'm in the room, so I know you have nothing to hide. And, hey! If you get nervous that I'm going to see what your saying to this other woman, maybe you SHOULDN'T BE SAYING IT TO HER!!! That's your conscience's way of saying, "This is wrong! Knock it off!"
My cop friend (yes, that one) invited me out for a ride-along, last night, but I didn't go. Why? Because I didn't feel right doing it, knowing that my man was at home. I made that decision, not based on what I wanted (really, really wanted to go) but rather on how it would make my man feel. Why is that so fucking hard for his tiny brain to comprehend!? It doesn't matter what you want to do, sometimes; sometimes it matters how your actions are going to affect those you love.
Don't do something that you know is going to upset your significant other, just for the sake of "I do what I want!" ...ok, Cartman! Fucking CHILD!
Teenage bullshit! "I shouldn't be doing this, because my mommy would be mad, but I'm going to do it anyway, because I'm a fucking badass! Look how Badass I am! :P"
So, now, the decision I have to make, on my own, is whether or not to confront him, AGAIN, but with proof, this time... I don't know. Maybe I should just throw his shit outside and lock the door. Or throw it in the burn bin... No, I won't destroy his stuff. Taking away his roof and access to a vehicle would be enough of a kick to the face.
Or, do I take the high ground and try to talk through this? Do I try to get him to come clean with me, to confess? Then what? Do I reward the bad behavior (cheating) or the good (honesty) by letting him stay? Or, do I say nothing and just do a little indiscretion of my own? (That would be vindictive, yes, I know...)
You know what the kicker, here, is?
I asked him, when we first got together, what he considers "cheating"...everyone has their own boundaries, and it's a good idea to know what those boundaries are so they aren't crossed, accidentally.
He said: "Talking to any other man as if you were talking to me." He doesn't care that I have guy friends, as long as I don't talk about how much I want their cock. (lol, sorry, I'm 12: COCK!) So, by his own definition, he has cheated on me! What kind of fuckery is that?!
I just...
What?!
Jesus Christ.
THIS IS WHY I MISS BEING SINGLE!
Friday, October 18, 2013
Jealousy or Caution?
Something happened tonight that got me thinking...and probably over-thinking. My stomach is in knots, which is raising red-flags, and my instincts are screaming for me to pull back because I'm going to get hurt. I'm trying to ignore it, simply because I'm having these feelings because they are preconceived and based solely on how somebody other than my current partner has treated me. He has been nothing but caring and genuine...he's not the one who hurt me...
But it still hurts.
My Partner has a lot of female friends, which is totally cool, because I have more guy friends than girl friends. Not even a problem. I am, however, uncomfortable with the fact that he is spending the night at one of his "just friends" houses, tonight.
I trust him. He's never given me reason not to, but I am extremely uncomfortable with him staying over at another female's house. I know he would be upset if I were to spend the night with another man. That is exactly why I wouldn't sleep over at another man's house; I don't want him to be uncomfortable. It's something we're supposed to do, right? We're supposed to make sure we don't do anything that would cause them pain...?
Now, something else that bothers me about tonight is that he immediately went on the defensive when I told him that I was uncomfortable with the situation. "You gonna get pissed because I'm hanging out with a friend?" Didn't say I was mad. I said I was uncomfortable. I'll never, ever tell him who he can and cannot be friends with. He has a life separate from me, just as I have a life separate from him.
The problem I'm having, here, is not that I think he's going to cheat on me; the problem I'm having is that he got defensive when I expressed my discomfort, that he didn't ask my opinion (not permission) before he made the decision to stay with her, and that he is totally nonchalant about the whole thing. He doesn't seem to mind that it's causing me pain.
Most of this is just conjecture and emotional expression. However there are a few facts that I can't ignore, here:
He's told me that his ex-wife accused him of cheating.
He was Article 15'ed from the Army for alleged adultery.
He's staying with another female, tonight.
We haven't been intimate for almost 10 days.
We had a disagreement before he decided to go over to her house.
He's never given me reason not to trust him.
He's promised not to break my trust.
I'm not sure what to do. We've only been together for 3 weeks, but we're already living together. This is something I'm willing to work through, but I'm not going to budge on the fact that he is doing something that I am very weary about, something that is causing me near-physical pain, and he hasn't said a word to me since he left, nor does he seem to care that I don't like him being there. I'm trying not to work myself into a frenzy, because I'm going to need to approach this delicately. I do not want to fly off the handle and start tossing accusations at him as soon as he walks in the door, tomorrow morning.
I want to be able to talk this through, rationally, but I get the feeling that he's going to go on the defensive, again, and we're going to have a blow-out.
This is why I stayed single for so damn long...
Too much drama.
But it still hurts.
My Partner has a lot of female friends, which is totally cool, because I have more guy friends than girl friends. Not even a problem. I am, however, uncomfortable with the fact that he is spending the night at one of his "just friends" houses, tonight.
I trust him. He's never given me reason not to, but I am extremely uncomfortable with him staying over at another female's house. I know he would be upset if I were to spend the night with another man. That is exactly why I wouldn't sleep over at another man's house; I don't want him to be uncomfortable. It's something we're supposed to do, right? We're supposed to make sure we don't do anything that would cause them pain...?
Now, something else that bothers me about tonight is that he immediately went on the defensive when I told him that I was uncomfortable with the situation. "You gonna get pissed because I'm hanging out with a friend?" Didn't say I was mad. I said I was uncomfortable. I'll never, ever tell him who he can and cannot be friends with. He has a life separate from me, just as I have a life separate from him.
The problem I'm having, here, is not that I think he's going to cheat on me; the problem I'm having is that he got defensive when I expressed my discomfort, that he didn't ask my opinion (not permission) before he made the decision to stay with her, and that he is totally nonchalant about the whole thing. He doesn't seem to mind that it's causing me pain.
Most of this is just conjecture and emotional expression. However there are a few facts that I can't ignore, here:
He's told me that his ex-wife accused him of cheating.
He was Article 15'ed from the Army for alleged adultery.
He's staying with another female, tonight.
We haven't been intimate for almost 10 days.
We had a disagreement before he decided to go over to her house.
He's never given me reason not to trust him.
He's promised not to break my trust.
I'm not sure what to do. We've only been together for 3 weeks, but we're already living together. This is something I'm willing to work through, but I'm not going to budge on the fact that he is doing something that I am very weary about, something that is causing me near-physical pain, and he hasn't said a word to me since he left, nor does he seem to care that I don't like him being there. I'm trying not to work myself into a frenzy, because I'm going to need to approach this delicately. I do not want to fly off the handle and start tossing accusations at him as soon as he walks in the door, tomorrow morning.
I want to be able to talk this through, rationally, but I get the feeling that he's going to go on the defensive, again, and we're going to have a blow-out.
This is why I stayed single for so damn long...
Too much drama.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
The One...with a side of Skepticism
I'm in love. It's awful, I know. The cynic, the anti-love, anti-commitment, sarcastic woman that my friends have come to know is In Love. Ugh. You know what, though? I'm still jaded, and I'm still a cynic; everything's just a bit more..."Shiny" now.
Ten Years ago, I would have kept my opinions to myself, so I didn't scare off My Life.
Eight years ago, I would have been google-eyed and tripping over myself to make sure My Man was happy.
Five years ago, I would have been too afraid to speak, because I didn't want Master to get angry.
Two years ago, I would have told The Bastard to fuck off.
Last year, I would have fucked It and walked...
Today, I'm happy because I think I've found the balance between bitter and optimistic, jaded and naive, trust and blindness. My Partner and I support each other. He's caring and kind, if not a bit egotistical, sometimes. He loves me for me, but he can be a bit self-centered, on occasion. He's got great stories, and he's got great One-Uppers, too. I'm not so blinded by the emotion that I don't see his faults. I don't love him any less because of them, either.
In the 11 years since I started becoming really interested in the opposite sex (loss of virginity will certainly spike that, won't it? sheesh!), I've gone through a lot of bullshit and heartache. I've blamed myself, when it definitely wasn't my fault. I've blamed the man when if most definitely was my fault. I've "grown up" (Yuck! Take it back! Take it back!) a lot, too. I no longer believe my man hangs the moon, but he damn well better hang his own laundry!
I understand that we're only human. We can't expect anything out of our Other (not Better) Half that we're not willing to do ourselves. If your lover doesn't meet your expectations, reconsider them. Are they over-the-top? Maybe, maybe not. Don't abandon your partner, though, just because they can't follow your expectations. That's your problem more than it is theirs. If it's a deal-breaker, HELP THEM.
My deal-breaker is volatile anger and drinking problems. I will not, absolutely refuse to be near anyone who can't hold their liquor. I won't stay with anybody who has the tendency to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. I did it, once. For eight years! Nope. Not again. My Partner has anger problems.
I talk to him about it. I encourage him to let the little things go, and I can see that he's trying to keep his anger controlled. He does a great job, most of the time. When it flares, though, I walk away. I do not argue with him when he's looking for a fight. I do not put up with it, either. Once he's mellowed out, again, I talk to him about it, and how it makes me feel, and we work it out.
I think the best part about this relationship is how well we complement each other. He's excitable and I'm mellow. I'm grounded and he has his head in the clouds. He's playful and I'm serious. I'm a loner, and he loves a party. We're able to find an excellent balance, and I've never had so much fun with someone, doing absolutely nothing, in my life. We butt heads, sometimes, over little things (like driving; I don't trust anyone's driving, except my own), but we accept the fact that we're adults and we're different, and move on.
We've moved fast, going from dating for a week to living together. It's scary and amazing. I think he's The One, but I'm not going to marry him. I'm not going to marry anybody, ever again. I'm perfectly content with spending the rest of my life with someone without a piece of paper.
He's been married twice, before.
I don't know where he stands on getting married, again, but that's something we can talk about, later.
Ten Years ago, I would have kept my opinions to myself, so I didn't scare off My Life.
Eight years ago, I would have been google-eyed and tripping over myself to make sure My Man was happy.
Five years ago, I would have been too afraid to speak, because I didn't want Master to get angry.
Two years ago, I would have told The Bastard to fuck off.
Last year, I would have fucked It and walked...
Today, I'm happy because I think I've found the balance between bitter and optimistic, jaded and naive, trust and blindness. My Partner and I support each other. He's caring and kind, if not a bit egotistical, sometimes. He loves me for me, but he can be a bit self-centered, on occasion. He's got great stories, and he's got great One-Uppers, too. I'm not so blinded by the emotion that I don't see his faults. I don't love him any less because of them, either.
In the 11 years since I started becoming really interested in the opposite sex (loss of virginity will certainly spike that, won't it? sheesh!), I've gone through a lot of bullshit and heartache. I've blamed myself, when it definitely wasn't my fault. I've blamed the man when if most definitely was my fault. I've "grown up" (Yuck! Take it back! Take it back!) a lot, too. I no longer believe my man hangs the moon, but he damn well better hang his own laundry!
I understand that we're only human. We can't expect anything out of our Other (not Better) Half that we're not willing to do ourselves. If your lover doesn't meet your expectations, reconsider them. Are they over-the-top? Maybe, maybe not. Don't abandon your partner, though, just because they can't follow your expectations. That's your problem more than it is theirs. If it's a deal-breaker, HELP THEM.
My deal-breaker is volatile anger and drinking problems. I will not, absolutely refuse to be near anyone who can't hold their liquor. I won't stay with anybody who has the tendency to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. I did it, once. For eight years! Nope. Not again. My Partner has anger problems.
I talk to him about it. I encourage him to let the little things go, and I can see that he's trying to keep his anger controlled. He does a great job, most of the time. When it flares, though, I walk away. I do not argue with him when he's looking for a fight. I do not put up with it, either. Once he's mellowed out, again, I talk to him about it, and how it makes me feel, and we work it out.
I think the best part about this relationship is how well we complement each other. He's excitable and I'm mellow. I'm grounded and he has his head in the clouds. He's playful and I'm serious. I'm a loner, and he loves a party. We're able to find an excellent balance, and I've never had so much fun with someone, doing absolutely nothing, in my life. We butt heads, sometimes, over little things (like driving; I don't trust anyone's driving, except my own), but we accept the fact that we're adults and we're different, and move on.
We've moved fast, going from dating for a week to living together. It's scary and amazing. I think he's The One, but I'm not going to marry him. I'm not going to marry anybody, ever again. I'm perfectly content with spending the rest of my life with someone without a piece of paper.
He's been married twice, before.
I don't know where he stands on getting married, again, but that's something we can talk about, later.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Religion
I was asked a question, recently, that I had a hard time answering: Are you religious? ... ... Uhh ... ...
If they had asked me if I believe in God, I would have said no. That's an easy question to answer, but am I religious? I honestly don't know how to answer that.
I was raised by Christian parents. I practiced Wicca in high school. I've been to church a hand full of times. I've read the Bible (Old and New Testament), the Koran, the Torah, and other religious texts. I've gotten a mild grip on most of the world's religions. I don't believe that there is a One God, to rule us all. I don't believe that one "being" could handle that much power, without becoming corrupt.
My parents never pushed religion down my throat. They had their own beliefs, they taught me about Jesus and why they were faithful, but they never said, "This is the only way you'll go to Heaven". They never told me that I had to go to church, but when I asked to go, they allowed it. I was able to find my own path, and I'm eternally grateful for that. In fact, although they called themselves Christian, they pretty much loathed Christians, as a whole. I remember my dad breaking the preacher's nose because he told me I was going to hell. I was 9-years-old, and terrified when I came home from Bible study. Dad was pissed. The church didn't allow me back in the door after that.
That was probably the first time I started to question the "truth" of the bible. Why, if Christianity is all about forgiveness, was I banned from going back? My dad said, simply, "That's just how some folks are." So, while my friends were going to Sunday School, I was learning about cars with my dad. We called it Bible study, though, just for a giggle. I miss my dad.
My parents were very religiously accepting. Most people know about Missionaries and slam the door in their faces, when they come knocking. My mom invited them inside, gave them a glass of sweet tea, or hot cocoa, and listened. She didn't kick them out, or make them feel worthless, she accepted them as if they were family. Then, she politely told them that, while their beliefs work for them, she didn't agree with them. She had been so nice to them, that very few every pushed. The just left, peacefully and smiling.
I guess that's kind of where I sit, in the religion debate. I don't think anybody is right or wrong. Everybody has something that works for them. If a book keeps a man from killing his wife, then so-be-it. If prayer makes a woman feel safe after being raped, then there truly is Power in Prayer. Do I believe that there is a man in the Cosmos, who makes everything better, who helps the needy and faithful, and damns those who don't believe in him? No. The God I learned about, when I was a child, isn't that petty, nor are the gods I've learned about since then.
I accept religion, as a whole. When I want something to happen, I'll conjure a Pagan "spell", say a chant, or pray. Some people have told me that I'm going to hell; I just smile and say, "I'll save you a seat". I don't like people who shove their beliefs onto other people. I don't appreciate churches who teach children to fear their deity, or they'll be burned for eternity. It seems that most churches focus on Fear instead of Respect. They're going about that all wrong, in my opinion.
Religion fascinates me. Everybody, from the Roman Empire, to the Celtic Druids, to the Ancient Egyptians, has had a god, or group of gods and goddesses, to pray to. The deities may have changed, the prayers might be different, but human nature hasn't. It's almost as if we need to think that someone, or some thing, has our back. When we've hit rock bottom, it's more comforting to think "God still loves me" rather than "I'm completely alone". I can accept that.
I'm not an Atheist. I don't get a kick out of discrediting the Bible, or any other texts. I accept that they believe. I accept that their beliefs help them in ways that I can't understand. I don't pout and throw a fit, like a toddler, when somebody says, "God loves you!" ... "Nuh-uh! He's not real!" ... That's just not me. Who am I to belittle someone's source of comfort and happiness? What gives me the right to tell anyone that they're wrong and I'm right? Most Atheists are hypocrites, just as most Christians, Catholics, Baptists, etc., are when they teach about forgiveness, yet don't forgive a little girl's father after he knocks their leader out.
What can I say? I believe that religion has it's place. I don't think that God is as "My way, or eternal damnation for you!" as most make him out to be. Honestly...if he's the all-knowing, all-doing, been-alive-forever, controls-all-the-things guy, don't you think he's moved beyond the petty bullshit, by now? ...
Am I religious? ...Meh, I guess so...
If they had asked me if I believe in God, I would have said no. That's an easy question to answer, but am I religious? I honestly don't know how to answer that.
I was raised by Christian parents. I practiced Wicca in high school. I've been to church a hand full of times. I've read the Bible (Old and New Testament), the Koran, the Torah, and other religious texts. I've gotten a mild grip on most of the world's religions. I don't believe that there is a One God, to rule us all. I don't believe that one "being" could handle that much power, without becoming corrupt.
My parents never pushed religion down my throat. They had their own beliefs, they taught me about Jesus and why they were faithful, but they never said, "This is the only way you'll go to Heaven". They never told me that I had to go to church, but when I asked to go, they allowed it. I was able to find my own path, and I'm eternally grateful for that. In fact, although they called themselves Christian, they pretty much loathed Christians, as a whole. I remember my dad breaking the preacher's nose because he told me I was going to hell. I was 9-years-old, and terrified when I came home from Bible study. Dad was pissed. The church didn't allow me back in the door after that.
That was probably the first time I started to question the "truth" of the bible. Why, if Christianity is all about forgiveness, was I banned from going back? My dad said, simply, "That's just how some folks are." So, while my friends were going to Sunday School, I was learning about cars with my dad. We called it Bible study, though, just for a giggle. I miss my dad.
My parents were very religiously accepting. Most people know about Missionaries and slam the door in their faces, when they come knocking. My mom invited them inside, gave them a glass of sweet tea, or hot cocoa, and listened. She didn't kick them out, or make them feel worthless, she accepted them as if they were family. Then, she politely told them that, while their beliefs work for them, she didn't agree with them. She had been so nice to them, that very few every pushed. The just left, peacefully and smiling.
I guess that's kind of where I sit, in the religion debate. I don't think anybody is right or wrong. Everybody has something that works for them. If a book keeps a man from killing his wife, then so-be-it. If prayer makes a woman feel safe after being raped, then there truly is Power in Prayer. Do I believe that there is a man in the Cosmos, who makes everything better, who helps the needy and faithful, and damns those who don't believe in him? No. The God I learned about, when I was a child, isn't that petty, nor are the gods I've learned about since then.
I accept religion, as a whole. When I want something to happen, I'll conjure a Pagan "spell", say a chant, or pray. Some people have told me that I'm going to hell; I just smile and say, "I'll save you a seat". I don't like people who shove their beliefs onto other people. I don't appreciate churches who teach children to fear their deity, or they'll be burned for eternity. It seems that most churches focus on Fear instead of Respect. They're going about that all wrong, in my opinion.
Religion fascinates me. Everybody, from the Roman Empire, to the Celtic Druids, to the Ancient Egyptians, has had a god, or group of gods and goddesses, to pray to. The deities may have changed, the prayers might be different, but human nature hasn't. It's almost as if we need to think that someone, or some thing, has our back. When we've hit rock bottom, it's more comforting to think "God still loves me" rather than "I'm completely alone". I can accept that.
I'm not an Atheist. I don't get a kick out of discrediting the Bible, or any other texts. I accept that they believe. I accept that their beliefs help them in ways that I can't understand. I don't pout and throw a fit, like a toddler, when somebody says, "God loves you!" ... "Nuh-uh! He's not real!" ... That's just not me. Who am I to belittle someone's source of comfort and happiness? What gives me the right to tell anyone that they're wrong and I'm right? Most Atheists are hypocrites, just as most Christians, Catholics, Baptists, etc., are when they teach about forgiveness, yet don't forgive a little girl's father after he knocks their leader out.
What can I say? I believe that religion has it's place. I don't think that God is as "My way, or eternal damnation for you!" as most make him out to be. Honestly...if he's the all-knowing, all-doing, been-alive-forever, controls-all-the-things guy, don't you think he's moved beyond the petty bullshit, by now? ...
Am I religious? ...Meh, I guess so...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)