How I came up with this Blog post is a little odd.  About three years ago, I got a bee up my butt and decided to get a third piercing in one of my ears.  I need to preface this by saying that I was going through... for lack of better words... mid-life crisis.  I was having my Internet affair at the time.  Funny thing that,  Mid life crisises. 

 

Anyway, the third piercing has been a pain in the butt.  Nothing really works in that hole... gold... silver... nothing.  My ear turns red.  But a strange thing happened the other day.  I put in an earring I've had for ages... sensitive ears, nickle-free earring.

 

That is what brought all the memories.

 

I was pregnant with my daughter... super way pregnant...  so that dates the earring to nineteen years ago.  I was looking for earrings to go with a dress I'd bought to attend my sister in law's wedding party.  Lisa had gotten wed in Las Vegas, so this was just a reception. 

 

So that brings me to Lisa.

 

I met Lisa when I was sixteen years old.  She was my husband's step-sister.  Well, technically she would be his ex-step sister since her dad is no longer married to hubby's mom. 

 

Lisa was tall and lithe.  She oozed sexuality.  She was raised in a nudist camp, and when she turned fifteen, she moved in with a thirty-five year old man. 

 

Hubby learned alot of things from Lisa before I met him.  They "played" around with the bases if you get my drift.  They never made it to home base, but they went pretty far.  Lisa played with alot of men, including her sister's husband.

 

It is kind of a funny thing.  I so wanted to be like Lisa.  She was so free and easy going.  She seemed so happy.  She was a sex magnant.  She knew so much more than I.  I was a dumpy brown headed short person.  She was willowy, tall, lithe and blond haired. 

 

Lisa died at the age of 26. 

 

After she married, her husband would farm her out to his business associates to drum up business.  It is suspected he was abusing her.  Well, it isn't suspected.  He was. 

 

She was in a 7-11 one afternoon just prior to Christmas.  She fell.  She suffered an aneurism. 

 

Lisa loved cocaine.

 

We will never know what caused the aneurism.  Did she fall, and hurt her head?  Did she already have a head injury from her abuse from her husband?  Did the coke finally screw something up? 

 

She was in a coma for around 11 days.  The doctors said she was brain dead…. In other words, there was no grey matter left.  She didn’t respond, she was gone. 

 

It’s funny.  I can admit this here, but to no one else.  I was jealous of her.  She’d had sexual relations with my husband.  Even though they didn’t go all the way, I knew he had this fondness for her in his heart that went beyond brotherly love.  When they finally pulled the plug on Lisa, he came home, told me how hurt he was because she was in some way his first. 

 

Lisa’s sister’s husband was also devastated by Lisa’s death.  He’d had sex with her! 

 

The scene was macabre.  She was a nice person!  Honestly.  I really liked her.  But there was this part of me… the part that was pissed about  the fact that she could hold a special place in my husband’s heart, that was …. Damn…. I was glad she was gone. 

 

Jealousy is a funny thing. 

 

Years later I found myself questioning my sexual appeal.  I did the unthinkable.  I had sex with some guy I met over the Internet.  I mean, what was I thinking?!?  He had/has a wife.  I don’t know.  I haven’t had contact with him since February 04.  I wasn’t thinking about the wife.  She was faceless.  I was only thinking about what I needed to feel like a woman. 

 

The same as Lisa.

 

Pathetic, isn’t it.

 

The beauty of this life is that our Creator gives us the ability to learn this stuff.  You make a mistake, you don’t make it again. 

 

This New Year is dedicated to Lisa.  I wish she could have realized how beautiful she was outside of her sexuality.  She was a wonderful, funny person.  She didn’t know how to find love apart from her sex organs.  That makes me sad.  It also makes me want to love people on a different level than what is physical. 

 

My New Years resolution is to learn to love people based on their soul.  My resolution is to also learn to love myself for who I am and not for the physical.  I have a pretty cool soul also.

Let me preface this blog by explaining the mood I was in prior to talking with daughter.  I realize my college courses were fairly easy compared to what some of you are doing out there.  I found out a woman on another forum just finished her masters, and it made me feel kind of stupid for making a big deal out of my first semester.  But you know, sometimes the toughest part is getting started! 

So anyway.  I'm feeling a sense of freedom since school doesn't start again until Jan 9th.  And I hadn't done a lick of Christmas Shopping.  I mean nada.  Well, I take that back, I had bought one present.  Anyway, so I sat down at my computer on this past Friday night (Dec. 16) and did alot of online shopping.  I work at a church also in the worship department, which means this time of year is reallllllly hairy.  You know what I mean, Christmas cantatas, extra worship services, parties, bla bla bla.  So work has been particularly intense also. 

The gist of this is that I had more than my share of White Zin.  For whatever reason, hubby went to bed early.  Daughter (18 turns 19 in January) came home from work.  I was feeling mellow so went into her room to chat.  I mean honestly I wasn't looking for heavy conversation.  I just wanted to hang out with her.  She and I have a phenomenal relationship and we share alot of stuff.  We have the same sense of humor (she loves Monty Python!) 

I don't know why this happened.  Probably the wine, which even in her bed I was still embibing in.  But I told her the story of the first time I had sex.  I was sixteen.  Hubby was sixteen.  Mom and Dad were at work.  It was after a day of high school.  We were in my brother's old bedroom.  Long story.  My DAD walks in!  This is the very first time I have ever had sex.  Well, actually the act hadn't actually occured but we were in a compromising position of half naked state. 

My daughter about died laughing. 

At the time, 28 something years ago, I thought my dad was going to kill the both of us.  He actually just walked out of the room and closed the door.  I jumped out of bed yelling, "I'm dead.  I'm dead.  I'm dead."  Hubby (then boyfriend) just plowed himself into his clothing and ran away.  To say I was on restriction for like eternity is an understatement.

Anyway, so I confessed this thing to my daughter.  She immediately confesses she is no longer a virgin.

~pregnant pause~

Okay, I know in this day and age that the fact she has already lost her virginity at the age of 18 should not be any great revelation.  In fact, I'm not stupid.  I had sex when I was 16 for God's sake.  But I am naïve. 

I raised both my children in the church.  I have been blatant about explaining that sex is something you don't freely pass out.  It is to be shared with someone special.  I've promoted abstinence, but also made sure they were aware of the dangers of sex without condoms.  I'm religeous.  Not stupid.

I honestly believe my oldest child (son) made it to the age of 22.  But he was kind of a nerd.  The girl he had sex with and is now having sex with, I believe he is going to marry.  I know this seems archaic but it is important to me to know that the girl he lost his virginity to and is having wild monky sex with is the one he intends to marry.  It doesn't mean they are going to marry, but it means he takes the sex act seriously.

So back to daughter.  She tells me the first guy she did it with was an old boyfriend.  It was in the heat of the moment.  He was on the rebound.  I think she'd never quite gotten over him.  They did it.  Then they parted ways.  She indicated she was hurt that he sloughed her off after that.  But I couldn't help but think.... "OH MY GOD... you gave your virginity to a guy you weren't sure you'd ever see again?????????"  Of course I didn't say that to her.  Sheesh.  It was over a year and a half ago.  What do you do about spilled milk?

So then she proceeds to tell me that she is having sex with her current boyfriend.  I like current boyfriend, don't get me wrong, but ... he's 23 to her 18/19.  He doesn't have a job.  He lives with his mother.  His mom and dad are married, but Dad travels alot, and when he is home he sleeps in a separate room from mom.  To me, boyfriend is a deadbeat.  I'm hearing daughter make noises about things that annoy her about him.  And I'm thinking, GOOD... usually noises means she'll break up soon.  At least that is how it has been in the past. 

So here I am.  The mom that tauted abstinence.  To say I was in shock ... Good grief.  Of course I maintained my cool.  If you get all wigged out, your kids won't keep talking.  She talked plenty.  I suggested if she was going to continue her current course of action, it would be a good idea to get on the pill. 

Okay, now HERE is a major issue.  So she gets on the pill.  She doesn't want to be pregnant.  But boy, from the way she describes it, she REALLLLLLY likes sex.  She told me she is not certain she EVER wants to have children.  Okay... so anyway I tell her we need to make an appointment for her to get on the pill.  I told her it would help with her zits.   Man I felt stupid! 

Here is the thing.  I told her that just because she is on the pill does not mean she should stop using condoms.  STD's, AIDS, you know.   I don't know where this boyfriend has been and how many women he's had sex with.

I'd like to think I handled this well.  I think she has been trying to tell me about this for a few months now.  When she had the chances before, I think she backed out.    So I'm the good mom who didn't jump her case but is now mulling this over.  I frankly don't like it, but I'm not going to stop her.  Heck, do you think just because I was on restriction because I got caught, I stopped?  ROFLMAO.  If there is a will there is a way.  And apparently her will is strong.

If my husband found out, he'd have a heart attack and die.

And my daughter is so ADD that if I get her on the pill, she'll leave the damn things out and he'll find them.

This has been a funky weekend.

 

I've always felt like kind of a schlep.  I didn't do very well in high school.  Well, I take that back.  If it was a right brained activity, I did very well.  I skipped biology 10 times and still made an A in the course, because I find the human body facinating.  But math?  For get it!

My mother made me enroll in our local community college before I finished high school.   I'd earned my credits to graduate high school early.  Go figure since I thought I was a lousey student.  I think Mom was afraid I wouldn't go to college, so she forced me into duel enrollment.  I hated it.  And, naturally I failed. Well, I didn't fail... I just dropped out.  She didn't know it. Immediately after high school,  I moved in with my then boy friend, now husband.  Mom and Dad hated that!  After six months, I ended up moving back in with Mom and Dad... big blow up with hubby's dad who we were renting our apartment from.

It was too late to start a semester at the local community college so I goofed around mom and dad's house for a few months until the winter semester started.  Actually, I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry and grocery shopped, but I digress.   I had a better attitude about college this time around.  In fact, I was seriously considering my relationship with boyfriend now hubby... thinking it was a dead end and I needed to move on.  I was going to make something of myself, despite the fact I had a poor self image.

I guess you can call it fate, kismet, or just call it stupidity.  Just prior to enrolling in my courses, I got pregnate by boyfriend/hubby.  I had spent a month up at my sister's house in Greenville, SC.  I missed him terribly.  I missed sex terribly.  My son was conceived in a half built house, three down from the house my mom and dad were building at the time. 

I might have made an A in biology but it took me a while to figure out I was pregnant.  Talk about angst!  Should I abort, should I not.  Telling my parents.  Making decisions after I decided not to abort... bla bla bla.  So we decided to get married.  Hubby and I barely had a pot to pee in.  He'd just started working at a local utilities company.  We didn't have insurance.  There was no decision except for me to quit school and work full time.  And, I never told my mother.

So a cool thing happened this fall.  My daughter just graduated high school.  We've prepaid her college... 2 years at the local college, then 2 years at any state college.  Well, the cool thing is that our local community college is now a four year college.  They took the junior out of college.

Like her mom, my daughter wanted to take a break.  Like my mom, I encouraged her to enroll.  But not only that, I began looking at courses.  I began to think, hey... I can to THAT!  So I enrolled, too.  I decided to take at least one course that was the same as daughter so we could encourage one another.  

So what course do I have to start out with?  The course which is the bain of my existance.  Pre-algebra. 

When I took the entrance exam, my scores for composition were off the chart.  My math scores were... yuck. 

So I was freaking out... taking college courses again after 25 years.  The first few chapters of pre-algebra had me in tears.  One night I just lay in bed and sobbed.  Daughter came home from work and slipped into bed next to me, told me everything was going to be okay.  I woke up the next morning and finished the chapter with flying colors. 

Through out the sememster I've been sweating bullets.  This time around is different than before.  Before, parents were paying for my courses.  Now, I have a student loan, and if I don't pass the course I am penalized with a fine!  It sure does make you try harder.  I figured that if I at least passed my courses with a D, I'd be happy. 

Well, I took my final exam for pre-algebra yesterday.  I am on the cusp of an A... the verdict is still out.  I took the final for Art History II this A.M. and am also on the cusp of an A.  I'm just waiting for the grade on my essay for the final grade. 

To say the least, I'm grinning from ear to ear! 

The best part is a break between now and January 9th when classes start again.  I need the rest.  But the other side of the coin is that I'm looking forward to the next semester because I KNOW I can do this!

1. When the chips are down remember - - - you’re not dead yet.
2. Those that seem sweet and innocent on the outside may actually be the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered killer rabbits on the inside.
3. In the face of danger, fart in the advisory’s general direction.
4. We all need spankings every once in a while.
5. When caught in a lie, prevaricate.  “She turned me into a newt… well… I got better.”
6. When crossing the Bridge of Death, it is best to know your favorite color.
7. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.
8. If your castle sinks into the swamp too many times, it may be smart to build elsewhere.
9. When all seems hopeless remember - - - it’s merely a flesh wound.
10. When you ain’t got a horse, make do with coconuts.

How people interact with each other in everyday life has always been of interest to me.  I always felt like a nerd as a kid, because I didn’t seem to fit in any particular niche.  I didn’t care to fit into any niche.  I was a nice kid, kind of a tom boy, but non-competitive.  I mean, take the game of Life for example.  When we played that as kids, it really didn’t matter to me if I won or lost.  Playing the game, goofing off and joking around was the fun part.  You know what I mean? … like when you get too many kid pegs to fit in your car… that was always funny. 

 

I also have never understood people who make fun of others. I think it comes back to that competition thing.  People who make fun of others are hoping to gain something.  I just didn’t get it and I didn’t do it.  But I was the butt of it a few times.  I was horribly skinny when I was a kid.  Back then we never heard of anorexia, not that I was.  But,  I got called “scarecrow”.  I also got made fun of because my mother didn’t believe in the latest fashions.  She sewed my clothing, or provided hand-me-downs.  It never occurred to me to make fun of others.  I didn’t get the point, or maybe I understood what it meant to be the butt of people’s jokes.  In any case, even when I got my act together in high school, and the jokes subsided, even when I started to become popular, I didn’t get the making fun of others.

 

I also have never understood people that use deceptive methods to get ahead. 

 

I once had this friend that I worked with.  I considered her a close friend.  She was the kind of friend that you sit out in front of the house and talk til 1:00 AM.  When the company hired a new CFO, everything about her changed.  She was on that man like white on rice.  She was married, he was married, they ended up having an affair, they both divorced… I don’t know where they are today… whether they stayed together or not.  But throughout the entire affair, I was completely out in the left field.  I defended her, because I could not believe she would stoop so low.  In the end, I blew the whistle on the both of them… I was the H.R. manager!  Ha… ha ha ha!  Talk about naïve!  And what a mess it caused at the office.

 

So I have a tendency to be naïve… or I used to.

 

I got burned at the stake by someone from church.  I was, you know, doing something I truly believe in, to the point where I was oblivious to the machinations of others around me. 

 

This was a person I stuck up for when others were against him. For five years I helped him to be a winner at his position in the church, and in the end, he brought me down.  The funny thing … not funny ha ha… funny strange… is that others saw it happening, but because of their position on staff could not tell me.  I was flummoxed by the whole situation.  I didn’t understand what was going on. 

 

In the end, when the truth finally came out, it turned out to be petty jealousy and conceit that caused me to lose a part of my life and a ministry to my church that meant so much to me. 

 

I never understood before this why people turn away from the church.  I didn’t understand how they could be so hurt by a person as to turn away from God.  And then it happened to me. 

 

I can’t exactly say I “left” church.  The macabre thing is that I WORK in another church 40 hours a week!  But I don’t attend my church, or any others for that matter. 

 

The person who hurt me so much is now gone… pasturing a church in the vicinity now that he has finished seminary… off to hurt someone else, which I discovered after talking to people, he was oh so good at. 

 

I want to think at this time of the year that I am past this, since it happened almost three years ago.  You know, it is advent and all that rot.  In fact, I went back to my church last Sunday for the worship service.  Figures the message was on forgiveness, right?  I don’t know how to forgive that man for doing to me what he did.  I don’t know if I ever will.  I’m not sure if that is entirely wrong.

 

In the end, I suppose I have to realize that if I expect others to forgive me, I have to forgive as well.  It’s just kind of hard to do when you can still smell the smoke coming off your hind end.