tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7484512724485323722024-03-12T16:13:04.521-07:00Diary of an Old Mad Wet HenThis is just my diary. Welcome to it!Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-75471944075226307412017-09-02T12:15:00.000-07:002017-09-02T12:15:35.095-07:00Wild Dark ThoughtsHave you ever met someone "normal"? Ick! They are so annoying with their normalness. Also, rare and hard to find. I feel like a lot of people have a little somethin-somethin going on..ADD, OCD, Depression, Narcissism, Anxiety, Addiction, Anger Management, Bi-polar, etc etc.
When I was growing up, I knew I wasn't <i>quite</i> like the other kids. I would cry.. sometimes daily.. for no real reason and I would stress constantly to the point I would give myself migraines. I bit my nails to the quick. What kind of problems does a 5 year old have to stress about? The doctors suspected brain tumor, but, no. Nothing was physically wrong with me. I would come home from school and demand to finish all of my homework immediately and it had to be perfect. If I didn't finish right away or get everything correct, it caused me much distress. When I was in 8th grade, my class went on a retreat before graduation and there, I was voted "Most Weird". My fellow classmates and a nun stared at me with pleasant, satisfied faces as they doled out my new misnomer, which I took as an insult and rejected. I told them to go back and deliberate again. They did and I imagine someone found a thesaurus or something and they came back with the more positive, "Most Unique". I didn't feel different, but, time after time people tell me I am. Whether I like it or not. My palms were, okay real talk, <i>are </i>sweaty at all times. My body is always tense. My muscles always clenched. Fast forward to high school. Teenage years. Shit hit the damn fan. Sometimes my thoughts would turn dark. I thought about suicide. I know that's taboo to talk about. The fact that talking about mental disorders is taboo, is a problem. The more we talk about it, the less taboo and the more understanding will come about.
Freshman year was fine; nothing memorable really. My brother was a senior and my brother is very cool. People would tell me I could come to their party but only if I brought my brother, which always prompted a hard pass from me. Sophomore year, a group of guys started hating me out of, what felt like, the blue. I never understood why. I really don't think there was a reason because I never talked really and kept to myself. Maybe because I was different? They did things like write letters describing in great detail everything they thought was ugly about me, yell out that I was stupid and didn't know the answer if I got up the nerve and raised my hand in class, dramatically didn't want me on their team for projects, stole from me, etc.
I remember sitting down on the kitchen table and reading an unprovoked letter about being ugly and finally just crying. Sucked. And I felt like a sucker because I knew deep down these people were just shitheads and I let them get to me. Junior year, I switched schools because I went to summer school and LOVED it at the new school. No one really harassed me too much! How lovely. There were all kinds of people and they were all different and unique as hell. Different races, different religions, different thought processes, different backgrounds, different personalities. People not only accepted me, but some people liked me a lot. Meanwhile, my hormones were a-raging and I still had depression. Not because of an event- depression and anxiety were just always looming. Sometimes if people tried to just talk to me, my face would turn red and I couldn't talk back. I wrote constantly and was looking forward to taking English class because I heard we were gonna be writing poetry and reading classics and that sort of thing is my jam. The teacher was a nightmare. I turned in my first poem, which was about suicide. I knew it was a good poem. You know how you just know when you write something good? I guess I was proud of myself and wanted recognition from someone who teaches this stuff. The A+++ I was expecting never came. Instead, the teacher read my poem to all of her classes because she didn't believe I wrote it and wanted to see if anyone recognized it. She read it in my close friend's class who told me this was going on. Which, thanks teacher, everyone thinks I'm a psycho now. But, they didn't. One boy was in a band and wanted to make the poem into song lyrics. I wanted to talk to the teacher and get to the bottom of this. I ran into her in the hall and began to ask about it and she bulldozed me over in the conversation. She was angry. She said she called WEBN to see if these were the lyrics to a song (Side note: Google would've cleared my good name in this day and age). She confirmed to me that yes, indeed, she was reading it to her classes to see if anyone recognized it. This part still hurts to say. She said, "I had to give you an A because I couldn't prove you didn't write it, but I know you didn't write it.".
I wrote it. My response was to completely give up on school. I skipped a lot. I skipped to the point that if I skipped once more I would be kicked out. When I did go to school, I slept through her class. She'd call my mom and say that she suspects I'm on drugs because of my new English Class Nap Time.
This was about the time I discovered alcohol and it's magical self-medicating effects. When I drank, it relaxed me. Instead of tension, I was relaxed. Instead of depression, I was happy. Life was fun as fuck! I got arrested for a couple things soon after turning 16 and my parents were furious, but I felt really free for the first time in my life. I felt connection to other human beings.
I self-medicated for many years and never understood there was something mentally wrong with me until I had been an adult for a very long time and the panic attacks began. Panic attacks demand not to be ignored. I went to the doctor and got myself fixed up and I function wayyyyy better now. I believe that suicide is the thought of someone who is sick with depression.
Someone said to me once regarding suicide, "I don't care WHAT is going on.. nothing's THAT bad.". That is probably true for someone with a healthy brain.
A lot of people think this way and they don't see the other side of things. It's somewhat dismissive. It's also straight-up ig-nert. It can and it does get that bad if the synapses in your brain aren't firing correctly. It isn't something you can mind over matter. People with depression are not weak-minded. They are strong. They show up every day with a smile and fight an internal battle that a healthy brain may unconsciously take for granted.
From Psychology Today: "The greatest suicidal risk exists for people that believe they are a burden on society AND possess a history where they acquired the capacity to harm themselves.
Some examples of this arising in unusual ways: playing violent and extreme sports, getting multiple body piercings and tattoos, shooting guns, getting in physical fights."
I know what it feels like to hate yourself with such an intensity that stopping it by not being alive starts to kinda sound like maybe a viable option.
There are things you can do. You don't have to live this way.
I worked at a psych hospital part time for many years and calls where someone is suicidal happened pretty much every week. I know what to do and how to help. I mean, I'm not a doctor or anything.
If you ever start getting wild, dark thoughts- I can listen and help get you started in the right direction.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-40092716936800548962016-06-15T08:12:00.000-07:002016-06-15T08:12:00.859-07:00I Said "OF COURSE!"So, Michael was a couple hours late coming home from work and I was thinking wtf. When I called him, he put me to voicemail and he’s never done that before. Like when he is gonna be late, even like 15 minutes, he gives me a head's up. So I was a bit worried, but, shrugged it off like calm down, it's nothing.
I went on with the day and walked the dog and worked out and then got in the shower and, meanwhile, he had went to the jewelry store and bought a ring and then went to my dad’s house. He said when my dad opened the door and saw him standing there by himself, he immediately knew and was like !!!. So they had their man chat and then Michael came home while I was still in the shower and knocked on the door and I said “Come in if you’re not a murderer!”.
So, armed with the idea of doing nearly the exact opposite of murdering, he came in and opened the shower curtain and I was all covered in soap bubbles (which I don't believe I ever washed off) and he took my hand and got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?”. I was SHOCKED (and also naked as a jay bird) and thinking "Is he proposing to me while I'm in the shower?!!" and then I was like YES HE IS HOLY SHIT and I started crying and covered my face with my hand and I said “YES! Yes, of course, you’re the best man I’ve ever met!”
He really is.
And then we hugged and I cried some more and we walked out to George, the dog, in the hallway and he said, “GEORGE IS GONNA HAVE A REAL DAD!”.
Right now my feelings keep changing from shock, to happy-happy!, to sobbing, to "God, my fiance is ADORABLE", to feeling like hmm..how do you Wedding?! I don't know how to Wedding!!"
So.. this happy life and tiny family I have now is PERMANENT and I can't wait to Wedding it up!
It can't be <i>that</i> hard, right??Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-78081099954690261762015-11-28T08:52:00.001-08:002015-11-28T12:46:19.365-08:00What's Wrong with Me This YearIf you are my close friend or family member or co-worker, you may have noticed my health kind of sucks. It seems I am in the hospital more than your average bear. It's always around this time of year too. I am reminded of this, literally, by Facebook sending me my "Facebook Memories". Yesterday, it sent me a picture I had titled "Hospital Spa Day". I had the cucumbers from my salad on my eyes and I was laying in a hospital bed. I'd just had 2 surgeries on my heart. That was scary. They keep you awake through some parts of the procedure and your heartbeat is going 500 beats per minute while you are conscious. There is one person in the surgery room whose only job is to try to keep you from freaking out. I cried and begged to be put back under.
It's that time of year again! I have been having unbearable stomach pain since August. I went to doctors and specialists many, many times (depleting both my emergency savings and my paid sick/vacation days from work) but no one was telling me anything helpful and didn't seem to be very concerned. They also did things like cancel a procedure a couple of hours before it was to take place and forgot to turn in one of my urine cultures (or apologize for forgetting to do that). Any way, last week I was at work and started having the severe stomach pain of which I was now very familiar. I typically had these episodes at home. Now, I was at work and my shift would be over in 10 minutes, but, I didn't know what to do. The pain was too much to drive. To make a long story short, my wonderful boss offered to drive me to the E.R. We made it about 2 blocks and another car wrecked into us. My stomach pain was so intense, I barely noticed we were hit and I barely noticed biting my tongue. I had a passing thought wondering why I chomped down so hard on my tongue and didn't feel anything. Do bodies only feel pain in one area at a time or something? Then I got out and threw up in the gravel by the side of the road. An ambulance came and took me to the E.R., where it was so busy that I was in the hallway as they gave me an I.V. of stuff to make me stop throwing up and then, morphine. Ten minutes later, I felt no pain. A half hour later, they found "a HUUUUGE kidney stone". That was a direct quote from the nurse, echoed later by the Doctor. It is 11 point something millimeters, if that means anything to you. It didn't really to me and the nurse explained that anything over 5 millimeters is too big to be passed naturally. The E.R. figured out the issue in half an hour and I have been seeking help elsewhere since August 3rd. I am having a procedure done on Tuesday to go in and "blast it" (another doctor quote). He thinks we might have to do it more than once. I am scared. Even if you are at the hospital on the reg, like yours truly, it doesn't seem to make it any less scary. I am also afraid of what will happen to me financially after everything is all said and done, to be honest. Sigh. Thanks Obama!
In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the times when I am healthy and need to remember to eat well and exercise once I'm back in the saddle again. I am also thankful for my family and friends and Michael, who I love so much, and who make me feel the opposite of how some doctors can make me feel- which is like they don't give a flying f-word. I know I'm not dying or anything like that, but, these kind of problems that come up.. even though it overwhelmingly sucks.. it's a nice reminder that there sure are a lot of people who care about me and that makes me thankful and fills me up with love.
I plan on recreating this photo Tuesday:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKY5Dia4MM9CXDwrKkFgzpZ3u0ptd5PcwdCmUHYDd_ji_aphlmI2ul2EyT_Jt2LM163zYJwedct063W9QIqiOVdKQw5s0GtjSxYxv26ae6qqPzu77YXUFN4WHvYsL_ol0RukO0TuNVuCj/s1600/hospital+spa+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKY5Dia4MM9CXDwrKkFgzpZ3u0ptd5PcwdCmUHYDd_ji_aphlmI2ul2EyT_Jt2LM163zYJwedct063W9QIqiOVdKQw5s0GtjSxYxv26ae6qqPzu77YXUFN4WHvYsL_ol0RukO0TuNVuCj/s320/hospital+spa+day.jpg" /></a></div>Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-31976788421841733322015-11-08T15:44:00.000-08:002015-11-08T15:44:56.202-08:00That's a Full-Grown Dog Right ThereNever in one million years will you believe what I'm about to tell you.
I GOT A DOG!
I've only been wanting one my whole life...!
This actually happened two months ago, but, I'm writing about it now.
I was driving home from work and I saw this tiny little pup darting around the busy traffic on my street. I parked in my driveway and went to start walking to the intersection to see if I could do anything to get him out of the street and guess what? By the time I parked, he was running toward me on the sidewalk! I couldn't tell what he looked like really because his fur was matted with mud. Half of the fur on his tail was missing and he was covered in fleas. I googled "How to get rid of fleas on a puppy" (he was so tiny that I assumed he was a puppy at first). The internet said to bathe him with Dawn. I did that and then I cut all the matted fur off. After his bath I was like wow, he's beautiful. He laid stretched out on the towel on my lap like "ahh this is the life" (I mean he REALLY enjoyed the pampering)and a few minutes into drying him off, I knew that I was in love.
Title Explanation: We took him to Goodfella's Pizza to sit outside and grub and, as we were leaving, a table of grown (drunken?) men were like "Awwww". They asked questions like "How much does he weigh?", "What kind of dog is that?", "That's a puppy, right?". Before I had a chance to answer, one of the men loudly announced, "That's a full-grown dog right there!". I thought that was funny because how the hell does he know?
ANYWAY- I don't know if he had ever lived in a home or if he was always living on the streets. He was not potty-trained or socialized. He didn't know any commands. He is getting there on all three of those things now. He acted so afraid of everything at first. The slightest noise would scare him. He did a lot of cowering and just behaved in general like an abused dog might act. I don't know if that is the case or not, but, that first day when I was toweling him off I had that sense and I told him I would never let anyone hurt him again.
Here is my darling little sweet potato, George:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ_ey8OVGyyD4CqcXmCyCzdUToISju56M0HY07Gfau_R_uzovhyphenhyphenS3onG4iK-RPMnNrpris1sIdwEC9jPNMLXbxzLzLPpX1_H97DdcnURv1id8AKKA_MmXtSC8-UpuwXASOFbKaFt1-6Qg/s1600/George.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ_ey8OVGyyD4CqcXmCyCzdUToISju56M0HY07Gfau_R_uzovhyphenhyphenS3onG4iK-RPMnNrpris1sIdwEC9jPNMLXbxzLzLPpX1_H97DdcnURv1id8AKKA_MmXtSC8-UpuwXASOFbKaFt1-6Qg/s320/George.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNVNRfjLS2WtGKJU3AsrYBmBcAOe2UdftyO98cj6Xw79nsh7KPi4VfqLfPb6ptJKmN7VCDTbc7IMWCXSegIwL_r4J0ubIMun6XDs5GJQg7y3YW2tjftObLzCJIo97tkQO5p1cjSXUDq2m/s1600/george2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNVNRfjLS2WtGKJU3AsrYBmBcAOe2UdftyO98cj6Xw79nsh7KPi4VfqLfPb6ptJKmN7VCDTbc7IMWCXSegIwL_r4J0ubIMun6XDs5GJQg7y3YW2tjftObLzCJIo97tkQO5p1cjSXUDq2m/s320/george2.jpg" /></a></div>
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-85102235277188056532015-06-28T16:36:00.001-07:002015-06-28T16:36:35.872-07:00Bitch ConfessionsI woke up one day recently and I was transformed into a complete and total b-word!
I think maybe I'm just really stressed with work and working 2 jobs and things like that. Something's got to give because I don't like feeling this way. I am usually nice, easy-going, laid back, etc. Happy-go-lucky even!
Those are adjectives that could not be used to accurately describe my current personality.
I'm going to tell you everything, Dear Diary. I'm holding nothing back. A wise man (named Usher) once said, "These are my confessions". Here are mine. Enjoy!
Earlier today, I was at Target and took some clothes to the fitting room. The attendant made a fuss about how I had more than 6 items. Which, is totally fine..I get the rule and it's usually not a big deal but she was being rude about it. I took just 6 items and put the rest on a bench and she said, "I don't think so, let me count them.". She counted the items thoroughly and released me off to the fitting rooms. I came back out after trying on the 6 items to sub them out with the clothes on the bench and was again accosted. She yelled, "Let me count them!", as though I had plans to sneak by her. I handed her the pile and she picked a hanger up from the counter and said, "Where did THIS come from?". I told her, "I don't know, it's not mine. I took in 6 and took out 6 and can I go in now?". As I was changing, I listened to her talk to other customers and she wasn't mean to them. I became heated up about the way she was treating me and decided to just leave without trying on the other 2 shirts on the bench. So I walked out and after I was almost out of the area, she yelled- "Are those your clothes on the bench??". I wound up telling her, "Yes, and you can walk your happy ass around the counter and pick them up.", while motioning with my finger the path around she could take. Then I ran into some friends from work and told them the story, totally shocked at myself.
After chatting with them, a different girl almost ran me down and I said loudly, "Watch it girl! You about ran me down, what's wrong with you?".
After my Target trip, I had to go to work. I backed out of my driveway and a teeny, yellow Smart Car came barreling down the street and up to my car making it so I was stuck unless I pulled back into my driveway. Now, this exact scenario plays out (different cars) 75% of the time I pull out of my driveway. I threw my hands up in the air and glared at the driver, who backed up immediately. Then, as I drove past him, I glared at him some more and his face looked stupid and afraid.
Just minutes ago, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a picture of a fellow with a rat tail and became totally irritated. Out loud I said, "What an asshole." and shook my head deciding this person that I didn't know was awful.
I have been in a days-long battle with The Children's Place because they sold me a Canadian gift card that can not be used in the U.S. and they will not refund it. The last letter I wrote them is the meanest thing I've ever written, I think. Earlier this week, my darling boyfriend was telling me about something he was reading as I was getting ready to leave for work and I snapped, "This isn't chat time!" and swept out of the room. The other morning, my dearest coworker/friend greeted me by asking what I did last night and I barked, "I'm busy! I'm too busy to talk".
I feel awful.
I'm sorry to the general public. I'll be nicer, I promise. I'm just going to go listen to some meditation music or google cat meme's.
P.S. Don't ever ever EVER text respond to someone the word "Oh.". Don't do that.
P.P.S. The Target lady totally deserved it, right?!
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-51869738365668524872015-03-15T16:30:00.000-07:002015-03-15T16:30:38.775-07:00Updating About DatingI went through a phase for a while there where I seemed to be drawn like a moth to the flame to dudes who were not a good fit for me. It was the silliest thing and now I look back like "Oh my god" and roll my eyes and try to repress the memories deep down in the foggiest, darkest, tiniest corner of my mind. Eventually I realized that my self-esteem had taken a beating and I was seeking out people that were not serious about me and trying to change their minds about that with the subconscious idea that if I was able to make them feel differently about me, it would heal my bruised ego and my self-worth would be restored to it's natural state of Hell-Yeah-I'm-Awesome, which I preferred. Anyway, once it occurred to me that I was doing this sort of self-harming kind of thing it was easy to stop doing it. I just stopped. It is true that people are only as terrible to you as you allow them to be. I knew I was making mistakes, even as I was making them. But, I got through it by writing about it and having supportive and loving friends and family. I kept dating and dated often. But, I made healthier decisions. The guy who I met and had drinks and okay conversation with and never heard from again- I didn't reach out to him and his lack of follow up didn't effect me more than a passing thought of "Hmm. That's weird. Did this fool not understand how badass I am?". The guy who lied about his phone being run over by a car and admitted later that he had really just deleted my number because he felt like he was "too into me too soon" (?!) was not given the benefit of the doubt or another chance. If he lied about that, what wouldn't he lie about? I didn't stick around to find out. The guy who I found out through a mutual friend had been engaged 4 times in 4 years who talked a little about how he deserved an opportunity to show me he was different now didn't get to a first date (In the past I would have been like WELLLLL...life is COMPLICATED and everyone has a story and walk a mile in his shoes and I suppose he deserves a chance). I closed my mind more and made decisions like maybe a cruel loan officer would with a trigger-happy red rubber stamp. DENY DENY DENY! It has been two years since I've been in a committed relationship. One day I went on a date with Michael and that was that.
Thank you to everyone that reads this silly diary for letting me talk about my feelings and work through things.
It is ultimately nice that I went through what I did because I am thankful every day for what is happening now. Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-36735238197499091872014-12-03T14:24:00.001-08:002014-12-03T14:24:42.527-08:00The Time I Posted my Nipple to the World Wide WebOk, so I bought a new phone and for the first time ever I can use all the apps everyone else has been using for years. My friend sent me this thing on SnapChat called “My Stories” and it was a bunch of pictures at once. Intrigued, I text him and asked, “How do you do that?”. He said, “When the camera is on do you see a little square on the left?”. Finished with my run, I hop off the treadmill and rip off my sports bra that is soaked with sweat, go to Snapchat and hit that square button and it doesn’t DO ANYTHING so it doesn’t SEEM like it’s taking a picture or anything so I just keep hitting the square button. It’s a front facing camera so I’m looking at an upshot of my face and I got annoyed with how unsightly this view was and I guess pointed the camera down (Remember, I just took off my sports bra) and I guess took a pic (but it doesn’t tell you it took a pic so I think nothing happened).
A couple hours later, my friend texts me, “Wow THOSE are the pictures you chose for My Stories, which is on your cover for all of your friends to see over and over and over?”
I responded, “?????????!!! What!”
His reply was, “Nice face.” And then, “IS THIS A NIP?!”
I didn’t know what My Stories was, but, apparently it sends to all your friends and DOES NOT DISAPPEAR like regular Snapchats until the next day or something. So he explains this to me and then says, “Man, I bet people are screenshotting this left and right!”.
My friends on there had included people from work, my LITTLE BROTHER, a few vague acquaintances, etc.
So then I tried to delete, but, it’s not possible. It’s not freaking possible! In my haste to get rid of them I accidentally started ADDING people. Omg. But then I just deleted my whole entire account and that’s the end and I feel like this story is one that is better in person bc I flap my arms around and get all worked up and stuff.
In closing, I don’t think bodies are “bad” or “dirty” or something to be ashamed of at all. I tend to steer away from that unhealthy American way of thinking. A nip is a nip. But, I did get all worked up when that happened.. which is funny. Oh! Remind me next time to tell you the story of when I accidentally sliced off a bit of my nipple.
It grows right back like a lizard's tail.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-52477837978294398412014-11-30T17:42:00.000-08:002014-11-30T17:51:53.880-08:00We are All Superstars and Heroes I had an unusually bad week. My furnace broke, toilet broke, gas leak, tree growing out of the foundation, A BATHROOM GARBAGE CAN MOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!, and finished it off with someone doing a hit-and-run on my luxury sedan Thanksgiving Day complete with a police officer so mean I wondered to myself if, unbeknownst to me, we had some kind of beef. Oy vey!
Sometimes when things don't run smoothly, I think I have a more difficult time handling it than your average person. Maybe it has something to do with being the youngest child for 13 years. Maybe it has something to do with a lifetime of the attitude to let the guy handle it. I want to analyze the way I react to the situations I find challenging and modify it immediately. Because, as my wise older brother says- this is life and these are the things I'm going to have to deal with. These are the things that EVERYONE has to deal with.
Sometimes I feel like I'm not capable enough to handle it all on my own and I think that is why I cry. I want to be, but, I am not.
The truth is NOBODY can handle it all on their own.
It is probably not a garbage can mouse for other people, but, everyone has their tough times that they fall on and when this happens everyone needs support and love and.. help.
With that said, I think that has something to do with why I struggle so badly in dealing with "life stuff". I didn't know if I had support and that hits ya! It hits ya hard in the gut.
I mean, of course, I have my friends/fam but I'm sick and tired of putting them out. I gotta ask them for help again.....gosh dang it why can't I just be self sufficient!! Sucks!
But, then something really great happened. My friends Kelly and Gary offered to let me stay at their luxurious house until my heat got fixed. They are the sweetest sweet potatoes in the whole sweet potato casserole. My brother dealt with the horror in the bathroom trashcan and then helped my HVAC-certified pal fix the furnace and also fixed a plumbing leak that I didn't even ask them to fix or bring up at all. Then my pal refused to accept payment. He did let me give him a blueberry banana bread I made from scratch and behaved as though he was the one who made out in this deal. I cried again (in private!). This time not out of helplessness. I cried out of gratefulness and awe and how fundamentally good the people in my life are. I am lucky. I don't take that kind of thing for granted or lightly. People don't realize the nice things they do can make such a big impact on someone else.
So ANYWAY..! Have you ever seen that movie, Gone with the Wind? (SPOILER ALERT) There's a part in it where Scarlett is riding with Rhett back to Tara through the war and fires and explosions and Rhett (I don't even like Rhett at all. I know I'm supposed to not like Scarlett but I don't like Rhett. Team Scarlett.) leaves her halfway through and when she makes it home, her mom is dead, the house is in shambles, her dad's lost his mind, her sisters are sick, and the fields are burned and they have no food (so not QUITE as harrowing as a bathroom trashcan mouse, but, close). So anyway she's in the field clutching at burned up turnips or some such thing and she says, "As God as my witness, I will never be hungry again!!" SO GOOD..WATCH: (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gn26pEDEhyY">God as my witness</a>)
My point is, I can't fix a furnace(I tried, I youtubed it and googled and tried and tried)... or fix really anything at all..but, what I am going to do is save up a million zillion dollars in an emergency fund so next time "life stuff" happens, I am ready. Last year my new year's resolution was to pay off all my debt- and I DID IT. This year I'm going to squirrel up enough money to bail me out of emergencies. If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be reliant on somebody else again. (Financially. I'm still going to need hugs and stuff. xoxoxo) Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-37837987741782277472014-11-08T15:41:00.001-08:002014-11-08T15:46:33.054-08:00Hang Man I was just absolutely terrible at dating when I was fresh out of the gate. I had very little search criteria at first. I didn't know any red flags. It was basically- am I attracted to him? Sa-weet, let's hang. This laissez faire approach did not work out too well for me. If a guy ever asks you to "hang out" my suggestion is to decline, politely. (Unless you are not looking for a relationship in which case do whatever the f you want. I'm not your mom.) Anywaysies- Why does a grown adult man want to "hang out" with me? It's ludicrous if you think it through. A guy asked me to hang the other day and it happens so often and irks me so much that I may have snapped at the poor boy a bit because..I dunno..it's just so annoying. I said, "Are you asking me if I want to hang out with you as platonic friends?". He explained that he was just trying to start a conversation. I politely declined the weak, flimsy invitation. It's kind of insulting if you think about it. Asking to hang says to me that this person is thinking, "Hmmm I'm really not that sure about you or excited about you and I want to put as little effort into this as possible and I don't think you're deserving of an actual date where my intention is crystal clear that I am romantically interested in you. Fingers crossed you sleep with me though."
Am I right or am I right? Is there another side to it that I am missing? Am I being bitchy?
I can't help it, that's how I feel. I've always had trouble putting into words why that bothers me so much. So, I am happy I was able to now. Admittedly, I am a 35 year old woman and perhaps someone younger would be completely cool with the dreaded hang out. But, it seems like the acceptance could stem from naivety. If I could go back in time and tell a young Skippy not to waste even one second with someone who didn't treat her decent - <i>really fucking decent</i>- I would. I'd shake young Skippy by the shoulders too and maybe slap her around a little bit like you do when you're trying to get someone to snap out of it.
Hang out. Pshhhhh.
P.S. Maybe say "Want to grab a drink?". That changes everything and who doesn't want a drink?
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-89238418116538932912014-10-19T12:52:00.000-07:002014-10-19T12:55:28.421-07:00Time to Stop "Wine"-ingThis weekend was so fun!
I'm mostly a homebody I think, so, when I do go out I'm just so dang excited about it.
Yesterday was Estrogen-y Girl-y Day and it was awesome.
Sara, Jessica, Brandi, Emily, and Emily's friends and I went to WINE FEST, which was almost as wonderful as CHOCOLATE FEST. Chocolate Fest is so beautiful that it always brings me close to tears because I can't believe how lucky I am to be there with all the chocolate. But, this festival was really cool too! I need to make sangria and hot apple wine at home asap. We kept our class and maturity up for a really long time. Eventually the wine samples worked their magic and coaxed us back to our natural personalities(read: laughing a lot and not very mature at all actually as a matter of fact).
I read something the other day that said that laughter is not so much about humor as it is about bonding. I don't know how I feel about that statement, but, it makes you think a bit.
We went to Zazou's and I went outside with Brandi to keep her company while she smoked. We sat in a stairwell that was covered and watched the rain and talked about this and that. My tum was warm from the wine and I love talking to Brandi and watching the rain was nice. I told her that right now, in that moment, I felt completely content. Later, we walked over to where my cousin bartends. It always makes me happy to see him. We played the jukebox and danced around. I love how extremely serious and passionate Emily is about dancing. Any time someone I care about is really, really into something (like a song or a book or in Emily's case- dancing) I automatically have a love and respect for it too. We danced and we danced and we danced.
I went home early and Steve came over for a visit with a dog that I love that he was dog-sitting named Josie. She is so big and darling and her personality is cool. I gave her big hugs and thought about how life is just so perfect.
Next weekend is Tiffany's Halloweenie party. I'm really excited about it and after bouncing back and forth a while I am REALLY excited about the costume I'm making. Oh boy, oh boy.
The point of this post, I guess, is that I am very happy and I have been for quite some time.
Here's Wine Fest & pals:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsy2XnQuifrkptEbupT0ExKO6dz4tZwnEACgMrTKo7CSANMPjqqUwOO1CUmi9kkQ1bH5CEYr2UlxjqhOoYI8QdzXTIqAc6BmJn-pX-rS8xEAsgoa57Iu2PLoxrSbxGqd96Koc9Dovpiaqq/s1600/winefest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsy2XnQuifrkptEbupT0ExKO6dz4tZwnEACgMrTKo7CSANMPjqqUwOO1CUmi9kkQ1bH5CEYr2UlxjqhOoYI8QdzXTIqAc6BmJn-pX-rS8xEAsgoa57Iu2PLoxrSbxGqd96Koc9Dovpiaqq/s320/winefest.jpg" /></a></div>Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-85055945293194412322014-09-28T13:07:00.000-07:002014-09-28T13:07:36.059-07:00I Feel Like You Should Blast Kelly Clarkson When You Read ThisHI!
I have not written anything in a very long time and you know why that is? Well, for one thing my laptop was hijacked and for another- I've had very little to write about. That's a good thing! Because usually I'm like wah wah wah dating is hard and blah, blah, blah feelings. So, I've just been relaxing and taking it easy and it's been really, really, really great. I am really into not dating anyone and if I ever date anyone ever again, that person is going to have to really bring it, because, otherwise- WHAT IS THE POINT. Do I need someone giving me a headache and making me do things I don't want to do and giving myself magical hair mask treatments? Nope. Actually, hair mask treatments are fun. And it makes my hair shiny. So, that's fine, but, you know what I mean. Do I want to cock an eyebrow and study someone's face to try to determine if they are lying to me and then conclude that, yes, indeed they are?
I really would not like to do that at all. If I have the choice. And, I do.
Will I maybe do that shit again one day for someone? Yes, I'm suuuuure I will. I know me very well and I bet I do things like bake them cookies or knit them a scarf and stuff like that. But, I'm telling you they are really going to have to bring it and bring it hard.
These fools I've been passing time with from time to time and on occasion are not cutting it. The dating culture I've witnessed so far- I am above it. I'm not afraid to say that and if you are reading this you should feel that way too. Dudes want to "hang out". I stopped seeing one guy (who hates me now) because he kept calling me "pal". Then the next guy I dated called me "pal" and I was like what is going on here. I ain't lookin' for no dang pal! I didn't put on this magical hair mask that makes my hair shiny to attract a platonic friend you fool!
Steve tried to tell me yesterday I might have trust issues. I got a bit riled up, not unlike an old mad wet hen, and declared that I do not! Do I have trouble trusting Steve? Do I have trust issues at all with any of my friends or my family? I absolutely do not. I have trouble trusting someone who lies to me. I told him that and he was sort of like oh, good point. In my mind a weakling is someone who wants to hang out versus date, lies, calls me pal, plays mind games, acts aloof. Those are all signs of weakness to me. I (and YOU) deserve flowers, sincere compliments, dinner, romance, laughter, quality companionship, and respect.
I'm not going to date a weakling. No, no, no. No way, Jose. Not when I, myself, have become so strong.Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-3595520996140845152014-07-12T09:56:00.001-07:002014-07-12T10:01:23.766-07:00What's a Crib?When I was 15 years old my sister took me to watch a band play at York Street Cafe'. We had a lot of fun. I was like, "Weeee...I'm at a bar and I'm a teen!".
When we were driving home, I thought I recognized someone I knew in the car ahead of us in the next lane. I mumbled something out loud and my sister heard me and cheerfully said, "Oh those are your friends??" and she sped up to be next to the car. At this point I realized they were strangers and protested, but, it was too late. My socially-forward-and-friendly-at-all-times sister was calling out the window to a car full of teenage guys saying, "LOOK WHO I HAVE HE-E-EERE!". She pointed to me and I sunk down low in my seat.
The guys came to life like how I imagine feeding time at the zoo for the lions must be like. Drop a little lamb in there and all the lions savagely pounce.
They were half-hanging out the window and saying the types of things you might imagine like- "Yeah I like what I see!", "You girls come back to our crib!", etc., while I kept saying over and over again "It's not who I thought it was, It's not who I thought it was, It's not who I thought it was". She finally heard me and told the boys, "Well I better get her home. Curfew's at 11!".
When we drove off she commented that they were very friendly for being strangers.
Then she asked me what a "crib" was. I guess the word was not so common then. Pre-MTV Cribs and such maybe? I don't know.
I told her that a crib was a house. My sister was like a lovely lil' old grandmother trapped in a teenager's body and responded, "Well, isn't that nice..Inviting us over without even knowing us!". Her faith in humanity and the kindness of strangers was (wrongly) restored.
That's the end of the story.
Okay, I'm not making fun of her and I hope she doesn't think that. I just thought that story was funny/humiliating. We've grown since then.. obviously. But, I still think it's a positive quality to always believe in and to see the good in people. It's rare, that's for sure. My sister is authentic and she has a heart that is pure and brimming with love. I'm not just saying that because she's my sister. Everyone who knows her knows that. So that is good and it is special and I hope she stays that way for the rest of her life.
<i>Here we are, back in the day. I appear to be wearing a shirt that shows my belly at church. Sounds about right.</i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIgqWDmB3Sv9CYsCYXOLJFzves6yTwrEVVtG9wBrtWtGJ9EnFvJ5qAXapOg41W7mL64sxXGQwJcE3cyvVP3r_3jpzAB_hxZhCDopxdv6ujAhpfjq0uSrDUYw2tx2Ufa-DtQBqK6neisXd/s1600/tina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIgqWDmB3Sv9CYsCYXOLJFzves6yTwrEVVtG9wBrtWtGJ9EnFvJ5qAXapOg41W7mL64sxXGQwJcE3cyvVP3r_3jpzAB_hxZhCDopxdv6ujAhpfjq0uSrDUYw2tx2Ufa-DtQBqK6neisXd/s320/tina.jpg" /></a></div>
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-60163603674088113252014-06-14T10:18:00.000-07:002014-06-14T10:18:39.277-07:00The Story of That One Awful GuyIt's story time! Gather 'round children and take a seat. Gonna talk about dating again. Surprise!
This happened....I dunno...8 months ago or something. I call it The Story of That One Awful Guy.
So, one evening I was chillun' on my couch, probably drinking a glass of wine and snuggling a cat and reading a book. You know, a typical Friday night. Minding my own business really! Innocently minding my own business, ignorant of impending doom.
I received a message on Facebook from an old pal I used to work with like 13 years ago. A hot old pal that was cool, nice, and funny. He had been drinking and he had just experienced a bad break up and this topic happened to be my forte. We ended up chatting ALL NIGHT. The next morning he messaged me. He pretty much messaged me all the time, constantly. I liked that because the guy I was interested in right before him was sluggish with contact.
He made excuses to see me that were "excuses", they were not "dates". Like, the first thing- he asked me to drive him to a wedding in Ohio. Later, we'd go to the bar and I paid for myself. I dunno, stuff like that. Which is fine, I guess, in the beginning. Especially because we were in a weird place like - are we friends or more-than-friends or what. He had JUST gotten out of a serious relationship so I was weary that I was a rebound thing. When I talked to him about that concern, I was left feeling..well, even more concerned.
The "relationship" or whatever it was- was the weirdest one I'd ever been in. Sometimes we got along really well. ROMANCE! We slow danced at a bar once with the Love Light in our eyes. When we went out, he was 100% doting and focused on me. We were both really good cooks and we cooked each other dinner a lot. My best friend, Steve, adored him and seemed ready to welcome him into our little family. I really liked watching movies with him and snuggling and feeling a kind of electricity from doing that. Okay, all that stuff is not weird. The weird things were I never met any of his friends and we would fight like cats & dogs. It was insane. I've never dated anyone where the person pissed me off as much and as often. This romance was short-lived and I'd already been in more fights with him than my 10-year relationship. I don't like fighting and I don't want to fight all the time.
I think a lot of the fighting probably stemmed from me questioning the status quo after awhile (few months). The not knowing thing got old. So I broached the subject and I was pissed off that I was even in a situation where I had to broach the subject. He said all the wrong things like "I didn't know you were looking for a relationship. I'm stunned."
WHAT?
He said he liked how things were and why must we have a title.
And you know what? I can see where he was coming from. He just got out of like a 6 year relationship and he wasn't ready. The problem was that I did want a relationship. I didn't like the way his wishy washy-ness made me feel and I didn't want to feel that way any more so I told him I didn't want to see him anymore.
That didn't go over well. He told me, "Thanks for saving me the trouble. No one wants a non baby maker". And then he called me worthless. I felt like I'd been punched in my stomach and simultaneously very relieved I'd ended things with this achilles' heel-attacking little baby bitch.
That was a long time ago and I still make mistakes in the Romance Department. Because I'm a human being. But the point of this story is that I'm learning. I think.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-3388691600376147362014-06-03T06:50:00.000-07:002014-06-03T06:50:09.904-07:00Ella..ella..eh eh ehMy niece, Ella (I will be singing her name to the tune of Rihanna's Umbrella song for the rest of her life. It's fine. She'll love it.) was born last Friday. Just like I suggested she be since I was busy every other day with this and that.
When I was driving to the hospital I got choked up twice. When your sister is giving birth, the feeling is greater than just the bland word "excitement". It's a wonderful feeling that I am unable to describe to you. I hurried up at work and finished the morning stats that needed to be complete and was out the door at 10 AM. She didn't come until 6PM though! I spent the day eating, gossiping, making best friends with the giddy family in the room next door, reading, laying out on benches in flower gardens outside watching people with oxygen masks bum cigs (silently judging and then scolding myself not to judge), shopping in the gift shop, telling my poor mother that there would be no grandson or daughter from me actually thankyouverymuch sorryboutthat. I told her about some of my adventures in failing at romance to give her some idea on why this topic should never be broached ever again. The content of my description was so horrifying that I could tell that my point had fully registered with her. A moron text me as I was explaining things to my mom. An idiot text me. Right then.
The dumb idiot said, "Hey pal! What are you doing??"
My dad didn't see the issue and I explained that what this text means, essentially- if you read between the lines- is "Hi,I am back with my ex.".
My mum nodded in agreement and said, "The word 'pal' is ve-e-e-ry telling."
My dad suggested I write back and ask what was with the 'pal', but, I didn't feel like it. Who really cares.
Pops folded his arms and wisely summarized, "Ya live ya learn I guess".
Dumb idiots are like buses and if I just squeeze my eyes shut and cross my fingers and wish very, very hard, another dumb idiot will come along every 15 minutes.
When Ella FINALLY made her arrival, I held her and rocked her and she fell asleep in my arms and holding her was like an easy massage for my soul.
Here is my new content little baby burrito.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiVuk82S0gadcXFnoN7TlYdFGI45B2w6JWUp3tZCMxbkouKzKnDioeZ3ssd-HtLGZ60c2G4OjUexH9w_t2XSXY5a4omC_LuqwvAE3aLIfcOQciz1e3M0tu1OVAet_VhP4TqOk0qKv92ZL/s1600/baby+burrito.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiVuk82S0gadcXFnoN7TlYdFGI45B2w6JWUp3tZCMxbkouKzKnDioeZ3ssd-HtLGZ60c2G4OjUexH9w_t2XSXY5a4omC_LuqwvAE3aLIfcOQciz1e3M0tu1OVAet_VhP4TqOk0qKv92ZL/s320/baby+burrito.jpg" /></a>
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-12215238502213520082014-05-04T07:42:00.001-07:002014-05-04T07:42:54.616-07:00All the Single LadiesSometimes I struggle with being single. As you probably already know. Since when I do, I write about it here. Some people make fun of me for doing that. I can see where those people are coming from, but- don't care!
So, I've reached a place where I think being single is fine and cool. I really like the place I'm at actually. I feel like I've arrived at some kind of really great milestone where I love, respect, and care about myself in a way I don't think I ever have before. But SOMETIMES.. singledom still sucks.
Tonight I went to my cousin's wedding. I looked stupid. You know, one of those days where you hate everything- dumb hair, stupid make up, idiot outfit, etc. I didn't feel like drinking. Different things happened that made me feel like Bridget Jones. I was sitting at a table of all couples and my sis came around with her camera and said, "Okay can I get a picture of Kent and Susie?". Then, "Matt and Tiffany?". Next, "Mom and dad?". And, finally, inevitably- "Uh....Julie?"
I growled internally at my beloved sister and outwardly declined to take a ridiculous picture by myself and my mom quickly offered to take one with me.
Not a big deal right?
Then the wedding party came out and the song that played was an obscure one that I associated with an ex. Blech.
Next, my grandparent's wedding song played and all the couples in the family sped out to the dance floor. The feeling of love and romance was palpable as I remained glued to my seat.
Later, the DJ announces it's time for Couple's Dance. Everyone went to the dance floor to dance to songs that I really like, but don't have anyone to dance with.
And then it's time for all the single ladies to get out on the floor and catch the bouquet. Everyone at the table excitedly poked and prodded me, "Get out there!". My dad poked me on the arm to my right. My sis-in-law poked at my leg to my left. "You're single!!", people cried excitedly, like this awesome concept just dawned on them and hadn't been smashed cruelly in my face the entire evening. I sludged up to the dance floor with the very few other girls. Girls who were, by the way, GIRLS. Young ladies. Not in my age bracket.
So, I left there feeling kind of like: Damn.
You know what I mean? It's no one's fault and the wedding was lovely and I enjoyed seeing everyone that I love. I'm as happy as a clam for my beautiful cousin. Gorgeous, she was gorgeous- oh my God. Her dress was sooooo, so, so pretty. I wish my attitude hadn't been so lame and next wedding (since there are 4,000 this month alone) I'll be better prepared. To drink. Heavily.
Just kidding....kind of.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-25911165969204547852014-03-30T09:52:00.000-07:002017-02-03T08:15:42.335-08:00I Said NoAfter my ex boyfriend and I broke up, I would have nightmares. There was a giant black disgusting slimy anaconda that slithered after me and no matter where I hid (I'd climb into air ducts and things to hide), it would find me and attack. I'd wake up sweating and crying and afraid.
This was the illustration my subconscious came up with concerning my "off again/on again" relationship that lasted 10+ years.
There aren't words to explain the pain I went through, so I'm not going to bother. You've maybe felt it before. There are lots of songs and books and movies written about this type of pain. Aside from the hurt, the colossal tragedy is how my self worth was affected...It was not good. It was not pretty! I wasn't even ME anymore. Not a hundred percent.
Let's cut to the chase, I'll tell you what happened.
SUNDAY - I was badgering this guy I had the hots for, saying things like "WTF Do you like me and want to romance me or not!??", like the demure and sophisticated lady that I am. I liked him and I couldn't really tell if the feeling was mutual and I felt like let's get this party started and his hesitation and indecision- well, ain't nobody got time for that! His answer was no. That hurt and because I didn't feel that great about myself, it probably hurt more than it should have. I cried. I hated myself more.
MONDAY - I come home from a day at work, feeling really shitty about myself and pulled into my driveway as my ex boyfriend is pulling up too. I hadn't seen or heard from him since we broke up near the end of May last year. My first thought was, "NO. No, no, no, no". And then I thought yes, of course, obviously this was going to happen. It's happened so many times before that I was expecting it and had already prepared mentally how to deal with it when it happened. He asked if we could talk and I said okay. I had a bit of trouble unlocking the door to my house because my hands were shaking so much. The things that happened next are blurry because I was in shock. He apologized for what happened in the past. I made the decision to forgive him and instantly felt a good peaceful feeling about that because it was closure. He asked me how my life had been and that opened a flood gate because it's been quite a year and I said, "horrible" and started crying. When I looked up from crying he had an engagement ring. Now, listen, this is the moment I've been waiting for my whole life. I thought things like "Oh he MEANS it this this time! This time's for real!". I couldn't say yes and he told me to think about it as long as I needed. He said we could get married tomorrow or be engaged 5 years, whatever I wanted.
My happy ending?!
Tuesday I spent the entire day crying and being confused and being in shock. I was comforted by my friends and family. Pretty much everyone told me they would love and support me no matter what I decided and that only I could decide this. I thought to myself how incredible the people I choose to keep around me are. They always build me up. They always love me. They always make me happy. Over the years, in good times or in bad, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health- I can depend on these people.
It became clear to me that this is what I deserve from the man I marry as well.
They say love is unconditional, but, not if it's at the expense of my self worth. I drew a line in the sand! That's my one condition (one-conditional love?). Making the right decision made me feel confident and strong. I'm starting to love myself again. This revival of my lost self-love feels to me like I'm getting my happy ending after all.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-88305123570659661982014-03-07T08:10:00.001-08:002014-03-07T08:10:57.489-08:00SheMan Male Haters ClubEvery time something is floatin' around in my head I like to write about it. So, here we go. I was thinking about how when I was in my twenties, I never wanted to settle down with someone and I thought I never would. I think that's so weird compared to where I am at now. The reason why I was like that, I think, is because every time I was in a relationship, it ended pretty badly and in a blind-sided kind of way. Love used to be a pure, simple, happy thing and then it wasn't anymore. I was tired of relationships and the bad outweighed the good in my opinion. I decided to be a free spirit and at the same time formulated a damaging theory in my mind. This theory was that all men were cheaters. That love wasn't a real thing anymore. So, I spent a decade or so steering away from relationships like it was the damn plague and treating the men that came into my life like the scumbags I assumed they all were. When you treat someone like a scumbag, a lot of times that is how they will behave. In time, maybe that is how they will come to believe they are.
I don't want to be a SheMan Male Hater. I want to treat all people with kindness, love, encouragement, and respect.
Something changed in me and I think that's a good thing. I matured! Finally! I try to treat people delicately. Do I think all men are out to get me and destroy my life? Neh. I think you get out of relationships (all relationships- family, friends, etc) what you put into it. If you put in love and patience, that's what you get back. If you don't get that back, well then.. it's time to move along, lil' doggie. I guess to some extent if you expect a relationship to fail, it will. But there are also warning signs that I used to downplay and instead only focus on the good. (Example: Sometimes he doesn't respond to texts.. but he fixed the plumbing! That means he MUST love me. Bull-fucking-shit. If he's not answering texts, something is wrong that shouldn't be ignored. Period.) It took me awhile, but, I learned how to spot things I don't want- communicate to the person what I don't want- and if it doesn't change move the hell on and not look back. I've learned not to put up with nonsense that I shouldn't put up with. When your gut tells you something is wrong, you should always listen to it. Your gut knows. These days my gut screams at me "NO! WRONG! BAD! RUN FOR THE HILLS!". It all seems kind of simple now. Does that mean I'll continue to be alone for a long time? Probs. That doesn't bother me though because I'm looking for a quality human being who is right for me. Someone to make me believe that the good can outweigh the bad and I will always believe that it can.Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-89724214671061180162014-02-09T09:45:00.000-08:002014-02-12T09:07:34.198-08:00BanditThe first time I met Brandi was years ago at a meeting at work. Once you meet Brandi, you don't forget her. She left the meeting and I thought, "Well. She was delightful." She is high-energy and very happy and says things that are from the left field and she has crippling self doubt. Regardless of what topic the conversation is about, she will slip in a sincere fret involving her appearance/wardrobe/hair/life decisions/etc. She scopes out the positive in everyone else though. Last night I met her for a couple drinks (I had the most interesting drink, it was draft apple beer and the bartender talked me into putting Fireball in it and it tasted like cinnamon-y applesauce. My brain thought the drink was good for my sore throat although surely that is not the case. But, nonetheless- delicious.)
Anyway, I met Brandi and some folks and I went to the bar to order the applesauce drink and Brandi saddled up next to me and announced to the bartender, "This is my best friend!"
Later on she told me when I walked in and she saw me she felt so proud that I was her friend.
Let me ask you a personal question. Do your friends talk to you like that? They should.
So, Brandi is all these things- funny, kind, sweet, crippling self doubt- and the end result is this human being who is completely endearing.
I want very much to be to Brandi (and all my friends) the loving person that she is.
I'm so thankful I met this delightful girl.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIYTDJPAZCx-0Rt_EnWEH-zU9OuWGFK0kLp8aaEY47ahGdI3jbvxHRzQdJ9oCNoOIzIUV-bRNTztF3Fx5wa98JrcQ4AFpJfVXauRK_hPOiLnO49OS2ES0IjB3TtCDLSc6tM04za03BWOV/s1600/bff.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIYTDJPAZCx-0Rt_EnWEH-zU9OuWGFK0kLp8aaEY47ahGdI3jbvxHRzQdJ9oCNoOIzIUV-bRNTztF3Fx5wa98JrcQ4AFpJfVXauRK_hPOiLnO49OS2ES0IjB3TtCDLSc6tM04za03BWOV/s320/bff.jpg" /></a>Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-59824348990793545922014-01-05T15:52:00.000-08:002014-01-05T15:52:24.657-08:00Hoppy New Year, Young GrasshopperSo it's 2014 freaking FINALLY.
Here's my goal for this year:
Have as much fun as humanly possible (like lots & lots of fun) while also positively balancing my health, fam, & financial responsibilities. This year I want to not be too hard on myself, repel negativity, and I want to go with the flow.
I talked to my bro the other day about this and that and he started chirping to me about how maybe I should take a good long look at what I spend my money on and evaluate my priorities.
In other words, stop painting the town red and get my pipes fixed and stuff like that around the house instead.
It's like the story of the grasshopper and the ant. You know the story, where the ant was preparing for winter or something and the grasshopper was... not doing that. I just googled it and instead of preparing for winter the grasshopper was singing. Awww, singing! Bless that little grasshopper's heart. And then winter comes and the grasshopper is like "Hey ant, can I get some food?" and the ant is like "No! Die!".
So the moral is supposed to be that you should be aware of the perils of idleness. OR YOU WILL DIE.
Let's all just calm down a bit.
I did appreciate that eye-opening honest feedback from my brother. I did not feel judged by him (like that terrible, judgey, murderous ant). It was something I needed to hear because I suppose sometimes I can get carried away. I plan to check that behavior so I am better able to accomplish some of the goals I have for this year.
With that said, I want my loved ones to understand that I am working very hard and doing the best that I possibly can.
I have to say, that while I am not idle- I am always going to want to sing and have fun like the grasshopper. I don't want to be looked down on for that and I would love that to be accepted because that is who I am.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-85076798348176412622013-12-15T17:45:00.000-08:002013-12-17T11:31:10.761-08:00PammyOn my cell phone I still have a text conversation from 9/7 between me and my friend, Pam.
Pam passed away on 9/7.
The conversation is stupid. I asked her if she would work for me so I could go to Mike and Alex's wedding and she said "Yeah that's fine I will" & I said "WHAT!!;OMG OMG! THANK YOU!!!"
I look at that dumb conversation quite a lot. I used to clear out my text convo's frequently and now I regret that because we had other conversations that were not boring and I would have liked to still have them.
Gosh, I loved her.
We worked at the same place in different departments since 2001 when I started. We were not pals originally. In fact, my first correspondence with her was in email and she got offended by my email because I said the request was urgent (well, it WAS..).
After that, if I would pass her in the hallway I would have a big ol' cheese-smile on my face, like I do for everyone, and she would frown at me. Actual eye-rolling happened sometimes. That was like 12 years ago. After we became buds, I would ask her about it and she had no recollection of feeling any ill will toward me at all.
About 4 or 5 years ago, a new department was developed at our work and they hired 3 people for it. I was a bit nervous when I heard Pam and I both got the job because I thought, "Crap. I'm pretty sure that woman hates me."
Having a group of three people is a very intimate thing. You can't help but become close. And the three of us did.
Sometimes in life you meet these special people that you connect with on a deep level and very quickly. And you think, "Why didn't we pal up sooner!". Pam was everything I love in a person. She was so funny. So sosoososo funny. Our sense of humor was the same and that is a rare jem treat I think. Over the years, any time I had an issue or guy problem or bad day or whatever, I would jet over to her desk to talk to her about it. She was like the human form of a hug.
She was altruistic too. I felt like there wasn't anything she wouldn't have done for me or for anyone else she cared about. She was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to about whatever. She worked hard on being positive and she was so cute because she said she wanted to be positive like me. That's another thing- her genuine compliments will make your eyes water up. I loved her you guys. I know I already said that, but, I'm saying it again.
I still sometimes kind of struggle with the fact that this is reality and she is no longer with us. But, in the spirit of being positive like her- I did learn a lot from this. I tell my friends/fam often that I love them and appreciate them and the reasons why I love/appreciate them. I respect life and the frailty of it.
I think everyone deserves to have someone in their life that treats them the way Pam treated me and made me feel. My hope is that I can be like that towards the people in my life going forward.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-55492294586976148042013-11-25T10:19:00.002-08:002013-11-25T10:19:57.842-08:00Heart Problems (Not Like That)Not about my stupid health issue- I'm going to talk about dating some more and here I go. So, most of my life I dated the same person. Because of this, we know..knew..each other well. Eh, a lot of the time I felt like he knew and understood me better than I knew and understood myself.
That relationship ended permanently in May; 6 months ago.
When you are hurt by someone you loved, that pain never goes away. It lessens.. and that is such a relief. I think I'll always flinch a little bit at the memory though.
So anyway, the past 6 months I've been dating up a storm.
I started into it actually so excited. I always felt like I'm a really good communicator about feelings and stuff and I've never met a stranger and my heart is posted right up here on my sleeve in broad view for all the world to see and I imagined once released into the dating world I would be able to date the hell out of anyone. At the very least, if I didn't find True Love I would have Fun Times and make new friends. But, that's not what I have experienced at all.
I don't know how to date. I don't.
The first person who caught my interest, swiftly rejected me.
When I say rejected, I mean they didn't contact me. No texts, no emails, no phone calls, etc. I tried to initiate contact for a bit and then stopped because I thought- this is not how it feels when a guy likes you. I stopped pursuing and he disappeared.
That's fine, I thought. Not everyone is going to find me an endearing human being that brings them constant joy and eyeball-hearts. And that's a fact, Jack.
That exact scenerio has played out like fifteen different times, though.
Undeterred and miraculously still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I put my Big Girl Dating Pants on and tried again. I went on lots of dates with a guy who was perfection on paper, but, dating is about getting to know someone and after I got to know him, I just wasn't feeling "it" and I broke that terrible news as gently as I possibly could. Breaking news like that, I think, feels worse than being on the receiving end of rejection (rejection is basically my comfort zone at this point).
The instant one person goes away, another almost instantly pops up in their place.
And the same thing happens. It's like a pattern of hope/rejection/pain, hope/rejection/pain being played on a loop.
Does that sound like fun to you? Because I am here to tell you, it isn't.
It is almost exactly 6 months to the day that I wrote the break up post and I like anniversaries and things like that so in honor of that post- I quit. I went all in at first and now I know when to fold 'em. I'm going on a dating holding pattern for awhile and I'm certainly never going to go out of my way to pursue anyone ever again as long as I live. I've already found my Soulmate Friends and that is lovely enough and I feel very lucky for that.
So, don't mind me whilst I pull off the heart display from my sleeve and tuck it away somewhere dark, warm, and soft where it will be safe for the time being. I honestly don't know why it's taken me so long to do that in the first place.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-39614463795087192442013-11-02T16:36:00.001-07:002013-11-02T16:46:55.538-07:00Cov LoveFor some reason yesterday I was feeling really Friday-y. You know, like yay let's go out and eat something delish and drink some form of cocktails! I typically don't feel like that because I always have to work the next morn anyway so it's like what's the freaking point? But yesterday was different and Stevie V was behaving quite like Henry the dog like-LET'S GO OUT. LET'S GO OUT IMMEDIATELY. NOW NOW NOW ARE YOU HOME YET LET'S GO LET'S GO LET'S GO.
So we headed out to the village. I was already as happy as a clam because the weather was just so.
I had so much fun. I laughed a lot and I was gifted with kind words from different acquaintances. The kind of stuff that makes your heart glow a little. I like to hear different people's opinions on this and on that. Plus, everyone always brings their dogs and I may or may not have an (annoying?) obsession with canines.
Don't get me wrong, once the clock strikes whatever it gets really crowded and ew gross college kids and stuff. That is not the part I enjoy. What makes me happy is kicking around leaves in a cute town filled with good folks with not a worry in the world besides deciding where I want to eat.
I'm in love with that village and all the people in it!Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-7345632843884840482013-09-09T10:42:00.000-07:002013-09-09T10:42:17.820-07:00I Feel Like Blues & Cuss WordsThe majority of my adult life has been pretty carefree and happy I think. One time I thought I had some kind of undiscovered disease that was the exact opposite of depression because I was so happy all the time.
Well, lately life has been the pits! The absolute pits!
There I’ve said it.
I’m not happy and I don’t like that. And when does it pass and when do things get better and when can I have the happy disease again?
Meh.
Sometimes I feel like what didn't kill me never made me any stronger at all.
Please feel free to leave a knock-knock joke in the comments below.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-48330433857188404682013-09-06T09:58:00.001-07:002013-09-06T09:58:29.013-07:00An Open Letter to the Assholes of Covington
First of all, put your shirt on when I'm talking to you.
Quit throwing garbage in my yard WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?
One of the 1st lessons learned at mother's knee is "don't be a litterbug, be a jitterbug & dance to your nearest garbage can". Right? Right, Asshole?
Why, Assholes of Covington, is your bass up so high that it makes my walls shake? I think you are ridiculous.
Assholes of Covington: don't whistle, honk, or yell perverted things at me when I'm cutting my grass. Especially if your bass is so loud that the ground is shaking. Because I am many things (sweaty, wishing I was inside eating a hamburger, bleeding from my shin), but horny isn't one of them. Just stop it. You are gross.
Stop revving your motorcycles. It's a no wake zone, whatever that means.
Finally, as always, don't light your children on fire.
Love,
SkipperSkippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748451272448532372.post-59161550604048309672013-09-01T17:57:00.000-07:002013-09-01T17:57:18.563-07:00Good Date- About Freaking TimeI went on another date and it was soosososososoosoooooooosoos oso oososooso SO fun.
I know I said I wouldn't talk about dating anymore, but, I knew I was lying when I said that.
This'll be the last time. Really. (It won't be)
I know the guy and we'd hung out a few times, but, I haven't seen him in 5 years. I remember the last time I saw him I looked at him at thought "This is a really nice guy. Too nice for me". Five years ago, a relationship was the last thing I wanted. Five years ago I was immature and only wanted to run around with my friends and being in a committed relationship sounded miserable and exhausting. I liked him, but,I felt like he was too good for me. I've done a lot of growing since then and I've been trying really hard to be a better person. I'm doing great at it I think! Now I feel like I absolutely do deserve a nice person.
So..anyways...I got ready early, which has not ever happened before, so I was just sitting there waiting staring at my little brother, who was chillin' on the couch obnoxiously calm and relaxed. I've never been so nervous in my life.
I got a text from Date that said, "I'm here". I thought that was weird and that he wanted me to go out to the car or something so I swung open the front door and BOOM! There he was. And I screamed and flung my arms about because he startled the hell out of me. Apparently my doorbell is broken and I didn't hear it ring.
He was SO handsome!
You guys! He opened the car doors for me.
I have a theory that it is impossible for a date to go badly if they open the car door for you. It tells me that he is a man and is not afraid to behave like one and that is incredibly attractive to me.
We went to schmancy din and the waitress had to come back like 4 times to take our order because we accidentally kept talking.
The food was absolutely delicious and it was just the best first date ever!
Hopefully there is a date #2. We will see I guess.
Skippy Wellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214808399034457744noreply@blogger.com1