Sometimes its what we DON'T do that matters.

Someone mentioned to me yesterday that it might not be such a good idea to call a person an idiot....even if that person was. The truth is I can't remember the last time I said something behind someone's back that I haven't said directly to their face. Sometimes I can be so mean.... so sarcastic... self righteous.... overbearing.... egocentric..... and a whole host of not so stellar personality traits... I'm trying to get better. Usually I am....but sometimes and a lot lately I'm not nearly as nice as I aspire to be.

Today I didn't call anyone an idiot....in front or behind them. It may not sound like much.... but its progress.

I guess its born from frustration. I've been going through a lot recently and not in a good mood to start with. I tend to expect too much from myself and from others. I expect everyone to be as single minded as I am on any given task. The truth is I am the weird one. I could state my case differently instead of saying... *he's an idiot* as if that person doesn't matter. Everyone matters. So I am trying to be nicer and while it is part of my job to find problems and correct them and inform my GM if someone makes continual mistakes or errors be it in judgment or in work... It is not my place to go around insulting people as if I, alone, am perfect.

Time to jump off the high horse and walk around a bit.

Life....

I apologize for not writing much...reading and failing to comment. I've been depressed and without health insurance or real resources... I've been having a hard time of it.

I need to get my life in order....I need to forgive myself and others for so many things and so many failures....

I need to regain control of things...but I can't seem to find the reins that control my life. Today is a good day...kind of... sort of.... I've been kind of bitchy but not crying over anything and not really feeling so fake.

That's good right?

As for my life...the kids are all good. I've managed not to take out too much of my moodiness on Walter...sometimes its really hard though. There's no one I can really go to to help me get through this. The only friend I had that I could completely trust with anything and everything has been dead for years.... I was lucky to have her the time I did I guess...

I'm doing well at the job too. Really well. I work myself into this oblivious state while I'm there and almost make my brain a computer of its own. On the plus side I am learning all kinds of new skills and software...and it does kind of make me brain dead by the end of the day. Its easier not to deal with my life and failures that way I guess. Sleep comes in fits and starts. I think I usually get enough though...it just isn't the good kind.

I'm still involved in that psuedo relationship with my roomate. Nonsexual. Maybe I just really need to get laid...maybe I'm that shallow... but its not going to be with him... He's in his own downward mental spiral. He lies about stupid shit. His morals and standards are not nearly as high as mine. He thinks I'm a goody two shoes sometimes. That pretty much sucks. I mean I want to be good but not a goody two shoes y'know? For some reason men think that about me a lot. I abide by the law. I don't do drugs. I don't drink as a rule. I think about right and wrong and sometimes really struggle to make sure I make the right moral decisions. I'm still cool though....really. I can be a badass too. Seriously. I've stood up to murderers, rapists and thieves on several occassions. I've taken down crack dealers. So how does that make me a goody-two shoes? I smoke and sometimes, when my car is running, I'm prone to a heavy foot. Doesn't any man want a middle-of-the-road kind of woman? I'm too angelic for the bad boys and too evil for the good ones... I'm still divided I guess.

The only real working friendship I have is with my boss. No one else really knows everything that is going on in my life. The problem is with my boss, I don't want her to feel bad about my problems with work....she really has been trying to help me along but she doesn't own the joint y'know.

I'm still underpaid for the job I am doing and wondering how I am making ends meet most of the time because I am still not getting the 40 hours I was promised 2 years ago. The thing is my friend and boss really needs me there. She does. She was so close to a break-down a year ago because a lot of the help she has here is inept and frankly many of them are not the brightest. She is understaffed. ......and lets face it...Notre Dame just isn't packing the crowds any more. We just don't have the revenue to sustain shoddy work.

I've done well for her though, I was able to collect 10s of thousands in what was previously considered lost revenue we've managed to hang in there during a couple of really rough patches. I keep waiting for the promotion and raise I've earned now that I have all our receivables at 96% current (from 40% a year ago when I took over). I am still earning a dollar less than I was promised a year ago. It sucks and I can't complain to my friend about it because she feels it as a failure too. I'm not going to ask for it right now because I know the company really can't justify it, despite my performance.

Lord I hope that Obama's policies work.

At any rate I didn't want to drone on and on...I just wanted to reconnect a little and to be honest and tell you that I'm going to be ok in a while....I'm just having a bit of a hard time right now....but improving a little day by day...

Reflections

I can't write about my Grandma and not write about myself and the other women in my family. Somehow we are one and the same. I have often written about the women in my family. We outnumber the men, I think its probably about 3 to 1 normally in our genetic history, though sometimes it seems closer to 4 to 1, my siblings are 4 to 1. I have a saying, *We don't have an x gene, we have a capital X gene.*

We women absolutely adore the men, they are a jovial bunch! They kind of have to be, a sense of humor is a must when you are surrounded by wildly passionate females. The women are all strong. At risk of insulting the men, we are the strongest gender in our family. We never give up and we are the ones who inspire or force the men to become the leaders that they usually are. Even my mildest female relative, my baby sister Rhonda, who I've often mentioned, is a handful. No one else but me would dare call her mild. We all avoid confronting each other. We know that we are formidable. Nothing is more hair raising than to watch two women in our family disagree. Personally I'd rather fight a thug from the streets.

This sisterhood is passed, it seems, down the maternal line as well. My sisters and I, despite the differences we note from time to time, are really quite alike. We have the soul and the passion of our mother and our maternal aunt. Our mother and our aunt had the soul of our grandmother, who from what I understand inherited her spirit from her mother, whom I never knew. We all may have bits and pieces of our fathers in us, they pass on beliefs and kindness to us. But the truth of it all is that without this *never say die, never give up, never give in* spirit in our female lineage, I think our family would have died out during the potato famine in Ireland. That is when another woman, down the female line, raised her numerous siblings and made it to America, her siblings in tow. The next generation of females, which include my spirited daughter Celia, are even stronger.

On the outside and to outsiders we may appear to be socially acceptable and appear to be ladies most of the time. Appearances can be deceiving and so can we. The women of our family never needed the women's liberation movement. We never needed a law to tell us that we are as good or as capable as a man or to demand and receive justice in a man's world. All we ever needed was recent family history. We usually outwardly conformed to the social rules of history while breaking numerous conventions privately. Unless we didn't care a flying uknowwhat, then we would break the rules and damn the consequences. History repeats itself alot in my family.

My Grandma skipped school one day and married a Cherokee boy. When she married him interacial marriage was illegal in some states and unacceptable everywhere, especially in her father's house. Native Americans were in the same boat that all other dark races were then. To say that my Grandpa was a wild one would be an understatement. He was huge too. He was a golden gloves boxer who stood over 6'. My Grandma was about 4'11" and small framed to boot. To say she tamed him would be a misstatement. She directed his energy though. Because of who she was, he became who he was. There was more power and intelligence in her small form than in any man he ever met, I'm sure. He was wise enough to note that. He never treated her as *the little woman*. My Grandpa was the bravest man I ever met, but he knew better. The things I remember most about their relationship are that passion and love were ever present. I don't remember ever seeing any indifference there, like I see in most couples after a time. I remember, even while I was just a young girl barely curious about sexuality, that they were very romantic towards each other. Very touchy-feely. They argued from time to time too, but even that was passionate and full of love. When they did argue, it seemed as if two sides of the same person were reflecting on the wrong that the feet had done to the hand when the body fell down. I used to love to watch them make thier morning coffee when ever I stayed there. It was like the whole thing was a choreographed dance. Grandma would take the pot apart and Grandpa would reach for the coffee. She would fill the pot with water and he would lift it out of the sink.... It was a beautiful sight. Always, when I think of what I wanted life to be like for me, that was it. To make coffee together like we were one person.

Grandma was a beautiful woman, but she didn't really care. I remember convincing her to wear more glamorous make-up in her middle 50's once. She humored me and wore it all day, but I knew she thought it was ludicrous. I thought she looked beautiful. Most of the time she wore nothing more than a little powder and lipstick. She did like jewelry, especially earings. She used to tell me I was naked without them. Its funny....she didn't care about how she looked so much, but she did want to put on a good face and maybe a little bling bling for the world to see. She was naturally a platinum blonde. She dyed her hair red for as long as I can remember. I asked her about that once. It seems that when my handsome grandfather was at his peak as a boxer he quite naturally enjoyed the attentions (without cheating in any form) of the women who flocked to him a bit too much. Grandma would, of course, get rid of those ladies in short order but she began dying her hair red to give them (probably him too) warning. I can only assume it worked. If Grandpa was admiring the ladies, I know I never saw it. Smart guy. She wasn't really jealous though, it was more of a pride thing. Those women should never have dared to approach HER husband. It wouldn't surprise me to learn she had actually kicked a few asses to tell you the truth. I think I would have. Ok truth be told, I have.

She was always about family. She loved her man, she loved her children and she loved their offspring. We never doubted her love, though there are times we questioned why. I'm not writing about the failures though. We all have them. I am writing about the woman who loved anyway, even when some of us did not deserve it. She somehow made time for each of us. We all have wonderful stories about our one on one time with Grandma. She tried to be wise, but she never spoke as eloquently as she lived. Grandpa was the talker, she was the doer. She used to make big Sunday friend chicken dinners and she would squeeze as much of her large family as possible into her tiny house. She seemed to live for the banter that went around the dinner table. I learned just as much from watching her do what needed to be done as I did listening to Grandpa speak about social issues. Her actions reflected his words. Grandma did not let important things go undone, she never let the unimportant cloud her vision. She was the essence of practicality. She paid attention to the whole picture, she didn't get stuck on the details like the dreamers in our family. Grandma pulled us all together when we were trying to pull her in different directions. She was like a lighthouse. If we felt sad or confused, we could go to her and she would busy us with tasks and we could think uninterupted. My mother has been growing more and more like her these past years. Trying to keep the warring factions at bay, trying to spank the dreamers among us back into reality. I feel kind of sorry for Mom. For having such tiny feet, Grandma left big shoes to fill. Mom is the matriarch now and the family is bigger than Grandma's, probably even wilder now. Grandma and Aunt Shirley are watching down on her I know, and will lend guidance through dreams, but my poor mother has a passionate bunch of women to guide and prepare for the next generation. It isn't easy. Not when we all have that bloodline of strong women. There's that capital X gene again for good or ill. I hope she can keep Grandma's sense of humor amidst it all. She's going to need it now.

I didn't mention my Grandma was funny did I? OMG! She was outrageous. Grandma would take us shopping at the local department store and go around sniffing toilet paper because she wanted to find the best smelling one. She would sniff loudly and pretend not to notice the other shoppers! Must be where I get the playing pranks on strangers thing. Another thing she would do at the store is let big stinkers, sometimes big loud stinkers and then loudly blame it on my siblings and me. "Tressa ANN what did YOU do?!?!" she would say as if she were disgusted and scolding me for my behavior. I would blush and get so angry and she would just chuckle all the way home until I was laughing with her even while I was praying to God none of my friends were there. I can remember her tricking me into annoying the neighbors with my off key clarinet playing by convincing me that I was so good she wanted the neighbors to know how much better her granchild was than their children and grandchildren! She did the same thing with me reading out loud. As a little girl she built up my ego so much that by the time I went in to get my tonsils out (4 years old) I had an attitude that commanded me to steal all the toys from the hospital play room. I then locked myself into the bathroom and refused to come out because I knew I deserved all those toys more than the other kids. When the nurses were finally able to restrain me (it took massive doses of sleep meds and a net over the crib they were trying to keep me in), I fell asleep ranting about how they could not do this to me and that I would tell my Grandma and she was going to be really mad because she said I looked just like Shirley Temple and was going to be a star some day. Yeah, Grandma could convince me of just about anything and she had a lot of fun doing just that.

There are lots of things I could say about her, she had the patience of a saint. She must have listened to the "Disco Duck" 100 times in a row one day because it was my favorite song at the time. She actually tried to learn to dance *the Hustle* from me. She let my friends spend the night and we painted knick knacks all day. She never told me to shut up (she whispered to mom to tell me though I am sure). She forgave almost anything. Her heart was always open for the love of her family. She wouldn't put up with shit out of any of us though. You haven't been told off until she got a hold of you. She was brave too. A year ago she tried to take on some neighborhood thugs while spending some time at my Mom's. They backed down. I bet she made them feel guilty about their own grandmothers. They probably hung their head in shame just like I did the few times she felt the need to straighten me out. She was protective of us all. I remember when I was about 13 or so, she caught my sister and me talking to boys and first she chased them off with a switch and then she chased us home with the same one. She loved that we were all such pretty girls but she thought we shouldn't trust boys. Wise woman sometimes. When she moved back to her hometown for a while I used to write her from time to time. I remember once I thought it would be funny if I corrected her spelling and grammar. Ok I was probably showing off too. I only did that once! Trust me, I was TOLD. She used to say I used $20.00 words for a $5.00 message, I think I finally understood what she meant sometime in my early 30's and I toned it down a bit. People liked me more after that.

I loved my Grandma. I wasn't good about visiting her as an adult. I will regret that forever I guess. I bet she would tell me not to worry about it though. She knew I loved her and that was enough. She was enough for me.

Feeling better all of the time

Hey!

Walter is graduating the 8th grade today and tomorrow he turns 15. He is stoked. I took the day off for celebrating.

I made a new office for *B* (our accountant) and me. He is gonna be pissed. He looks and acts like Mr. Mooney on the old Lucy show. Well he's taller. I actually like him a lot but suspect he has the same type of autism as my boys and let me tell you he will not appreciate my efforts! However I was under direct orders from Sue who thinks sharing an office with me will help him do his job better. I seem to be very good at keeping him on task. I'm not quite finished but it will be nice...if tiny...when I am all done.

S2 and I seem to be back on track...I'm glad I didn't do anything catastrophic. I don't want to blow this up if there is even half a chance of it going the distance. He is the most complex man I've ever known and he interests me beyond normal. He thinks all the time. ALL the time.

I get that.

Maybe we can wait out/work out this time/distance thing. He's so good to me... I had the blues and was bitching at him and attacking him for my annoyances and he just decided to drive over and be with me (and I wasn't even complaining about that). I know it is a strain on his wallet with his daughter's prom and graduation and all that goes with that plus other recent expenses...and he hasn't really had sleep in a month...but I needed him and next thing I know he was here. How many men put a woman above money and sleep?

I really need to work on being nicer. He calmed me down just by being here. He keeps offering to help me pack up this disaster of a house. He put the plates on my car and says that once we find out what is wrong with it he will try to fix it for me....not offering to pay for it to be fixed (though he probably would if he thought I would accept but he knows better). He will get his hands dirty for me. Bless his way too far away heart. He gets me too most of the time.

I think I am going to buy myself some new makeup today....maybe I will ACTUALLY throw out the old stuff! Am I the only one who never does that?

Have a great day everyone!

Cleaning out my closets

Its that time of year. Some people do Spring Cleaning. Not me. You knew I wouldn't.....that would be too normal. I clean internally and externally....in January. My birthday is the last day of this month, that is when I will start my new year. I'll be 46 years old. I'm not quite happy with who I've been and who I am, but I am working on it.

It was a good time to give up on *D*. Might as well just start fresh and clean up my old debris before I make a new mess right? I'm ok. More busted ego than broken heart, though he did put a chip or two in it. Life goes on and love is waiting out there.....I just have to pay attention so I know it when I find it.

At any rate.......

I figure my life is almost but not quite half over. Which means I still have just as much time left as I've wasted. I truly do expect to live close to 100. The women in our family seem to live a long time, with the exception of my beloved cousin and her mother (whom I got my middle name from). They were exposed to asbestos in the family home though and got cancer from it.

The men die early though. Its not that we actually kill them....we just wear them out I think. They last approximately 60 years and then actually have the heart attacks they say we've been giving them for years.

The grandmother I was named after, my natural father's mother, was a royal bitch. She didn't have a kind word for me until about a week before she died at just under 100 years old. She was a brilliant woman though, evil but brilliant. Celia hates clowns with a passion, so Grandma gave her one for every birthday or holiday. Lovely woman. She did like my boys. Boys are better somehow. She was mean to her daughters too.

I never met my poor grandfather, Clyde. He died before I was an adult and developed a relationship with my father. I've only heard wonderful things about him though. My father died a few years after my grandmother. I loved him dearly. He was everything I hoped he would be when I finally was able to have a relationship with him. I miss him like I do my grandfather and my best friend who are also gone from this world. He wasn't that old (grandma had him late in life, she was nearly 50!), cancer got him.

My mother's mother is now in her mid 90's. She has smoked since she was 10 or 11. She started breaking all the rules long before that. She is a wonderful crotchety old woman who still has her wits about her, even if her legs are starting to give her trouble now. She still has living sisters, one is older.

There are tons of stories of crazy and daring women in my family and they all seem to have this long-life genetic thing.

My whole point is I am one of the spicy women found in both sides of my family that will probably live as close to forever as humanly possible. Only the good die young you know.

Unless of course, someone shoots our ass. I'm not quite bullet-proof. Still I think I fall into that history of powerful woman in our family. I don't have an x gene I have an X gene. It's my heritage and my legacy to my own daughter.

I figure I still have time to do some of the things I wish I had already done. I'm going to find the romantic and passionate love relationship that I so want and so need. I'm going to make the second half of my life better than the first half.

I'm going to make a list. Like that new movie I am dieing to see....the bucket list...I'm working on trying to find that perfect word that will encompass my resolve for this year. What do you think I should put on my list? What do you wish you had done, but never had the guts or opportunity to actually complete? I'll let you live vicariously through me if you want. I haven't done so many things that I don't even know where to begin.

Some of you may not know about my weird way of making new years resolutions. Every year I try to encompass my greatest desire to improve and change my life into one word. Some of the ones that have changed me and made me stronger are: Truth, Faith, Justice, and Peace. There have also been less powerful words that made a difference too, some of those are: Health, Compromise, Dream, and Write. Some words I can't remember now even though I based a year of my life on thier focus (which come to think of it was one of my words). I've been doing this since I was 12...so that's a lot of words.

My New Year begins on January 31. Help me find the word that will make me better than I am, that will make me be more worthy of your friendship, and more deserving of the life God gave me. Suggestions are welcome. I will of course let you know the one I choose when the time comes.

John Mayer Lyrics

The wicked magical power of EST.

I have a very jealous and competitive nature. Mostly it is kept in check by the fact that I am also incredibly nice and I want everyone to love me. Also, despite my numerous falls from Grace, I am still scared to bring the Wrath of GOD down on my head (sorry....I couldn't help myself....I used to go to a very *hellfire and brimstone* type of church). So usually I don't over do too much.

Not withstanding the above (sorry again....too much time in the presence of lawyers), I like being an EST. I have to be EST whenever I can. As a child I was that kid who finished the test the quickEST and practically tripped over her shoes to deliver it to the teacher. I wanted to be the bEST. I wasn't the fastEST runner, but I was the slowEST, so it didn't bother me too much because I was still distinctive....still EST. I've always loved it when my actions or words or even better my whole self was described with one of those magical EST words.... bEST, of course was my favorite. There were also brightEST, sweetEST, sexiEST, craziEST, thinEST, blEST, prettiEST, etc. etc.....lots of words end with those magical letters that thrill me to no end. I've always been by nature, extreme. I've also been shamed and shamefully thrilled by other EST words....meanEST, raunchiEST, cruelEST, nastiEST, you know the words I'm talking about...depending on how they are used and the actual intent....

In my life I've done some wild and/or stupid things. I've numerous scars to prove it. I have the bad girl blog to document some of it. I've done cruel things too, that I still try to atone for.

I was the girl who went off road bahaing on the top of the jeep. I was the girl who would smoke a joint in front of a teacher. I was the woman who would stand up to the crack head across the street (without enough sense to worry about getting shot). I go out with strangers.

I also struggle with the super-person syndrom. I try to be everything to everyone. I have a hard time saying *No*, even when it means going on a couple of hours of sleep a night for weeks at a time. I never refuse when I am called into work no matter what else I need to do....I just do it later and forego my body's natural need for rest. I am a heart attack waiting to happen sometimes.

I fight addiction all the time. In school I experimented with drugs. As a young woman, I danced dangerously close to anorexia for a time. I came close to taking up drinking once, but I took antidepressants instead. (EST types are prone to depression because someone else can always EST beyond you....trust me...its not easy being EST). I've been addicted to people too. Smothering was the word that was used. Right now its the cigarrettes.

The problem with being an EST type of person is that you can never willingly walk away from a challenge, you never run from a fight, you never turn down a dare, there is no risk you won't take if it keeps you on top of the EST thing. You feel this intense need to always show others that you have NO LIMIT. Truth is rewritten to face the challenge with you. If you are hurt in the process its the price you have already chosen to pay. Its NOT the bEST way to live and I am constantly working on this little vice.

The good thing about being an EST type of person is that you continually strive to outdo yourself (ok and everyone else too, friends and family are no exception). You are always looking for ways to be the bEST. That is why I have succeded in business despite the lack of a college degree. It is how I managed to raise, not one but two, special needs sons (severe Asperger's autism) from recommendations of institutionalization to having one who is now, for all intents and purposes, *normal*, self sufficient and self supporting, and another who will be at that point soon. So sometimes its a virtue. I don't want to lose that drive. It's what has made me the bEST when I dealt with the worst obstacles in my life.

I am so addicted to this kind of EST behavior that finding a balance is difficult. I get a thrill from being an EST even when its bad. NOT GOOD. That happened to me yesterday....several times throughout the day.... I behaved out of character (my character is nice, and responsible and kind....but it was absent yesterday). I didn't actually do any real damage, other than to my self esteem. I've found that people are more likely than not, going to enjoy most of my EST behavior and yesterday's mistakes were more irresponsible and stupid than anything else. Its me who has to live with them and take the steps to correct what I screwed up. I'm the one who made the first impressions with the mask on. I'm the one who blew a perfectly good opportunity to advance my position in business by showing off my better skills. I am grateful that I didn't really cause irrepairable damage....but I had the choice of behaving better. Just because I will have new opportunities is no excuse to waste the ones I've been given just to get attention.

ATTENTION. That is what being an EST type is really all about. Obviously I enjoy attention. I steal it every chance I get. Maybe its the middle child syndrom. My old shrink said that she thought I did everything in extreme because I was still trying to prove myself worthy of my miracle birth (I was too premature and various other complications), or because I felt guilty because good things seemed to come to me too easy when compared with the *luck* of the rest of my family, as if I was trying to put myself back in my place. Frankly, I think I'm just a know-it-all show off most of the time....but its always nice to have an excuse. Does anyone feel sorry for me for being so mixed up in the head?....ROFLMAO. I don't!!!!! Still I use these excuses all the time. Why? Because they usually work and everyone forgives my outrageous behavior.

I'm not really that bad. Just bad enough to embarass myself once in a while, still I want to be better. I want to be the bEST person I can be....even if that means giving up some of those other little ESTs and managing the others a bit better.

I am a passionate woman.....not much choice there. I don't have to be stupid though.

Tomorrow

Have you ever done something out of character just to prove you can? Just to prove you are as *insert your own missing character trait here* as someone else is or hinted you are not? Just to prove to yourself that you are something or someone you don't even care to be? Have you ever done the wrong thing or said the mean thing just because you could?

I did this morning. More than one thing.

I don't know why. I am not that person. I don't want to be that person.

So now the thing is what does one do when they wish they could turn back the clock?

Take back that word you wish you'd left unsaid....or breathe life into the words you couldn't find.

Take back that action that you are ashamed you did....or do the one you should have instead.

Take care of the problem you wish you hadn't have ignored....or let something go that really didn't matter.

Normally I try not to regret things.

I can't help but regret this time.

This time I wasn't the only one I let down.

Tomorrow though is a new day again and a new start.

Tomorrow I am going to be me.