The Other Side of the Fence

We’ve all had to console a victim, we’ve been the one they’ve come to to listen to their story, and give some advice on how to get through or over their pain.

I’ve listened to stories of women being abused, cheated on, and various other stories, as I am sure we all have. I’m accustomed to listening to this side of the story, but recently something different happened.

I have a friend that has done something terrible. Now before you grab the phone and try to turn in a fresh news story and try to get some reward, he’s been caught and is in jail.

As soon as the news broke, I began getting phone calls from people that knew we were friends. Things like “oh my gosh, did you hear what he did?” and “did he tell you anything that would indicate why he would do this?” I can assure you that friends don’t really talk seriously about crime with one another unless they are going to do something together. This, I had absolutely no prior knowledge of, and obviously had nothing to do with. So I answered each call and sat and listened to these people feign interest in this, just hoping I knew something nobody else did and could give them a juicy tip. I had no juicy tip. I was as stunned as they were. Shock doesn’t even cover it.

I don’t think you could understand what it is like to be friends with someone that does something terrible until it has happened. You are both shocked and worried about what could make what you think is a perfectly decent human being do something terrible.

You begin to wonder if maybe you should check on them, but then you need to have compassion for the victim, so maybe you should step back, but on the other hand your friend is obviously insane so maybe they need you right now, maybe regret has set in and they need someone to talk to, but then you think of the victim again and think maybe you should just sit down and see how this plays out.

It is a strange lesson in life that you really don’t know people. Whether you’ve sat and laughed and had a beer with a guy that was 2 days from suicide, or watched a news report about a friend doing something terrible, it isn’t a great feeling.

There is a nagging “is there anything I could have done?” voice inside of you that you have to put out from time to time. There is nothing you could have done, so stop.. Then you go about your day and think of it again, and the thought creeps up in your head, and you have to tell it to shut up again.

I think we are a bit too fascinated with this kind of thing because we wonder if we are that fragile, if one little thing could push us over the edge. I think people want an answer about why something happened like “was he on drugs?” or “did he have a mental problem?” Yea, maybe both, I don’t know. The only thing I know is the man I knew wouldn’t have done this, the man I knew was a doting father, loving husband, and mediocre employee in a company we were both dissatisfied with.

Life is interesting and always trying to pull my attention one direction or the other, but on this one, I’m going to sit it out. I hope the victim recovers fully and can have some sort of peace in her life, and I hope he gains the help he needs and also somehow finds peace in what he has done and the lives he has changed due to his behavior.

Many years ago I had made a terrible choice to quit a company for another. I ended up regretting it, and the way I left the first company I couldn’t go back. A friend, that has now passed told me “some choices cost a lot” and that echos through my mind from time to time as life goes on and people’s choices cost them more than they thought they’d pay.

Division

Some of us are part of this whole division in our country, then there are people like me, sitting back watching wondering what in the hell is wrong with everyone participating.

It isn’t enough we are divided by things like social class, color, sexuality, religion, but now by whether we are the evil Democrat or evil Republican. Whether we believe in the man in office, or we are going to vote him out.

I’m not on either side, I am no more concerned about who is president than I am what color socks you have on right now. None of it has changed my life significantly, and honestly, if I want to watch rich white people talk poorly about one another, I’d probably re-evaluate my life.

There are plenty of people though, that are invested in this, and have taken to social media outlets to proclaim their side.

To me, claiming one side or another is selling out. Plus, what if I pick a side and he ends up to be a complete moron or does something illegal or something? Do I still have to be on his side, or do I switch sides like some kind of fair weather football fan?

To be really honest here, I can see where both sides are kinda ignorant. These are rich dudes. You think they know how I feel sitting in this tiny apartment trying to figure out if I’m going to pay rent or get groceries this month?

Plus, they are old, and by old I mean, I’m surprised we haven’t already lost one of these dudes to old age. You think they understand anything that has to do with me, a female single parent living paycheck to paycheck?

Now, they ever get someone gritty and real in there that doesn’t proclaim a “side” then I may have a bit more interest. Get a woman in there that makes like $20k a year, about 40, raised 4 kids single handedly and maybe I’ll take a little interest.

Eh, to be honest, other than the fact they MAY send us to war or something, why does anyone truly care who the president is? This country is supposed to be run by us, they are taxing us which is against our constitution, and a crapload of other things I don’t have the time or energy to spell out.

My point is, they are dividing us again. If I don’t hate my neighbor because she’s Catholic, or gay, or black, now I’m supposed to hate her because she’s Democrat or Republican.

I’ve spoken with many of the next generation coming up, and all these antics aren’t impressing them. I hope they change this.

In the meantime, just like everyone, we are all just people after all, just trying to make it through this life with as much happiness as we can muster.

Humbled

There is a rather large part of myself I don’t talk about, and it is the fact that I’m a bit of an overachiever. I may have downplayed that a bit. I’m a lot of an overachiever.

I don’t feel like I’m competing with anyone, but myself. I’m always asking “is that REALLY the best I can do?” The answer is always no, and I need to push that until I drive myself crazy with it.

It is the reason I don’t re-read my writing. When I write something, I throw it on my blog, maybe into a book, and never ever read it again. There isn’t a reason to because if I did, I would tear it apart until I drove myself nuts and it would absolutely never be to my standards, whatever-the-hell they are.

I’ll give you an example. My character in Red Dead Redemption is level 315, I have nearly 400 gold, and over $66,000 and I feel like she’s a mediocre character. I feel like she could be better, make more money, and certainly needs to get up off her butt and make more gold. Why though? I have enough cash and gold that I literally wouldn’t have to do anything for probably years (real time, not game time) and she’d be fine. I’m mostly always the highest level person in a server, and even people that have been playing that game since the beginning are impressed by the amount of money and gold I have amassed. I’m not impressed though, because it isn’t the best I can do, I can keep working and keep building until …. Let’s face it, there is no satisfying me in this.

I’m not trying to win awards, accolades, or impress people, I’m just trying to be a person that nobody ever has to nod their head and say “well, she did the best she could.”

I’ve always had a problem with the saying “they did the best they could” because it has always made me feel suffocated. People have told me that from my biological mother that never had anything to do with me, to the people that raised me and made me feel like I was inadequate and not part of their family. Did any of these people really do the best they could? Nah, not in my mind they didn’t.

People that talk of abuse in their homes as children have heard “they did the best they could” but did they really? No, I don’t think they did.

Then comes a few days ago. I’m given a task to write about a subject I know very little about and have literally no interest in. I look at is as a challenge and accept this task with vigor.

I mean, it’s only 900-1300 words of something I know nothing about, how hard could it really be?

I google the meaning of various words and try to use them cohesively in sentences and turn out a paper with 1135 words and that I think would make sense to anyone interested in this particular subject.

Typing it all out, I felt pretty accomplished, I mean, look at me, all writing about crap I don’t even care about and figuring it out. I turn it over to the person that requested it and asked for feedback, just like I always do.

The first thing I get back is “may I be honest?” Which I knew was a bad sign.

Not only did I turn the paper into something he didn’t want, I used the wrong verbage for items, and had made a poor remark about something these types of people would find important.

He typed out a rather long message to me about it, and thanked me for taking the time to write it.

I sat here at my desk staring at the computer for a couple of minutes. I can’t explain it any other way, than it hurt. I was actually on the verge of tears over this, and then angry. Angry at myself for not being able to complete a simple task.

Overall, after thinking about it and fretting over it half the day, I realized I was humbled. We can’t possibly succeed at everything, nobody is going to do that.

I’ve failed miserably at plenty of things. My meatloaf is a prime example of my failure. Every single time I try to make it, I fail. I put too many things in it, try to do too much with it, and boom, it’s a nasty mess that one time we couldn’t even get the dog to eat.

On the plus side of that, it has made my children hate meatloaf so I never have to make it. I call that a win.

We overachievers think we can not only do everything, but can do it exceedingly well. There are times though, that life touches us and reminds us that we have limits, that we cannot possibly do everything well, and it serves as a reminder to us to be humble.

It reminded me that sometimes people may actually be doing the best they can with what they have available to them, and that is fine.

Lost the Feeling

Have you ever thought of doing something, thought it was a terrific idea, then nearly immediately lost interest in it? Or, more like me, lost interest in it once the time actually came for you to do that thing? I swear my personality is going to be deemed a disorder one day.

I do that even with calling people back. When I say “I’ll call you back in an hour” you will die of old age waiting for me to call you back, I guarantee. By the time an hour goes by, I’ve though of 15 reasons I just can’t do it, forgotten, or just simply don’t want to.

I’m terrible with phone calls anyway, so that is a bad example.

Let me tell you REALLY why some women (me) don’t want to date.

We don’t want to have to go out and actually try to find someone that finds us interesting, then have to sit down at lunch or dinner with them pretending like we aren’t absolutely insane and just had a crying fit because we thought the toaster was going to catch fire. We don’t want to shave our legs, go through the routine of making ourselves look nice to sit and pretend we don’t fart, poop, burp, or throw up. We don’t like the early parts of relationships where we have to act like we like golf or football. We don’t want to pretend your jokes are funny or that we find you interesting. People aren’t always entertaining or funny, and we don’t like pretending they are.

We don’t like answering questions like “what do you do for fun” because our mind rattles through things like gaming, meme’s, and drawing mustaches on women that look better than us in magazines, and trying not to say those and sound somewhat normal is hard.

We don’t date because there comes an age where we believe all the good ones really are taken, and those left over are the ones absolutely nobody wanted and there really IS a reason this dude is single. Trust me, there really IS a reason I’m single, and I pretty much laid it out in this blog.

Being fake is hard, and takes a lot of energy, and typically for those of us that work for a living and are single parents, we don’t have any energy to spare.

It is daunting to me to think of going through the courting process, even if all I have to do it sit there and smile.

Maybe my next lifetime I’ll find Mr. Right. For now, I’ll just be happy with my funny memes, my writing, and my job.

Peace.

It’s Just A Game

So, recently, I had to terminate an online friendship. Let me tell you the story.

During this pandemic, I got very attached to this game “Red Dead Redemption” and play it online with other players. As happens, I met someone on it that introduced me to other people, and told me it is nicer and easier to play with other people as some of the things that come up on it are easier to do when you have a crew.

So, every night, for nearly 5 months, I played. There was one guy that was like playing with a 10 year old. You’d just get done doing a wagon (makes him money) and he’d run you over on his horse and laugh. Your character would get up, dust herself off, and he’d do it again, and laugh.

I endured him running me over on his horse hundreds of times, and typically when I was actually busy doing something, or right after I had done something nice for him. I thought it odd, but kept in mind it is just a game, and went on.

There are many other things too, one time he had me get into a wagon, he jumped out just in time for it to go over a cliff, then laugh like crazy as the wagon and I flew down the cliff and my character died.

This was a constant thing, and happened every single night. Sometimes he’d do it for just a minute, and sometimes he would bully me for a long period of time, to the point I’d stop talking in chat so maybe he’d just forget I was there.

Recently, Red Dead had a huge problem and it rendered the game unplayable. So, we all have GTA 5, and everyone decides to play that. I knew he’d be an asshole to me in this game, but figured, as the woman that introduced me to these guys said “things are much easier to do with a crew.”

So, I know nothing about GTA, and it takes me a minute to even figure out how to get INTO my car, let alone drive the damn thing.. I buy a shop and hope it makes me money because I’m broke as hell, and luckily these guys have a private server so when the time comes for me to sell this stuff, I don’t want to be griefed, I really need the money.

So, about my 4th time EVER playing the game, and me still hitting every button on the D pad just to bring up my phone, it is time for me to sell some of my things. It will make me $97,000 and I’m excited, it will nearly double my money.

One of the guys offers to help me deliver, so it splits us up into 2 stupid garbage trucks and I am even happier since I’ll have help and not need to do this alone. It’s my first sale, and I’m more excited about having the money.

The guy takes off on his garbage truck, and I walk over to mine and this dude kills me. Thinking he’s just made a mistake (because who would grief a friend?) I keep walking, he kills me 3 more times. Finally another “friend” comes along and distracts the clown and I try to drive this horrendous garbage truck to my first destination. It is slow, hard to maneuver, and now I’m worried about what this ass is going to do to me.

The friend that offered to help is ticking off the ones he has done as I barely make it to the first of my 5 stops. I drop that one off, and get to my second, and the clown is there, he kills me. Then blows up my sale.

I made $2450.

I lost thousands of dollars on my first sale, and was done.

I paid hundreds of thousands on the business, put time into making sure the product was made, did supply runs, and ended up losing my first sale because some retard that I stupidly trusted thought it would be funny to blow it all up and kill me 5 times.

Yea, it’s just a game, but isn’t it MY game too? Am I not meant to have fun at this as well?

Right as I watched the THOUSANDS of dollars I accumulated blow up, I remembered all the times he ran me over on his horse, the times he killed my horse, the time he shot at my dog, and the countless times he killed me in game and wondered why I was even playing with him.

I can play with griefers on any platform. I can find them everywhere. Why in the FUCK am I hanging out with an asshole that somehow thinks “this is just a game” means “this is just my game and you are here for me to bully and you’ll just keep taking it because I’m having a good time, and have I mentioned this is just a game yet?”

Yea, it’s just a game, it just isn’t YOUR game. It is MY game, and I want to play, have fun, relax, and don’t want to deal with bullshit.

So, after I watched my product blow up, I left the party chat, left the game, and uninstalled it.

Not satisfied with that, the next morning I reinstalled the game and deleted the bully off my friends list and blocked him.

Now I play the game, with people I know are griefers, I know they have bad intentions, they don’t act like allies and do stupid things to me.

So, the next time someone tells you it is just a game, tell them they are right, it just isn’t THEIR game, it is yours.

Just Stuff

I was initially going to write about dating sites. I was sitting in my living room talking with a friend this afternoon that had joined a dating site a few days ago. She keeps telling me to join one, but I’ve sworn off meeting ANYONE off the internet, I don’t care how fabulous they are.

She had a few complaints, one is that most of the guys don’t seem to know English very well (catfish) and the other is that when they do, then they jump into sex entirely too quickly.

Is there no sense of getting to know someone anymore? Do we just like exchange names then send pictures of our privates right away? I don’t understand this new dating era, nor do I really want to. The more she talked, the more I’m happy that I don’t even think there is anyone on the planet I would date right now.

She showed me conversations that literally went from “it’s nice to meet you” to “when can we hook up?” in a matter of 10 minutes or less. I made a game out of trying to count the minutes from the time a dude named Tom went from introducing himself to wanting to send her a picture of his penis, but we were interrupted with a phone call.

I don’t have time to even think about dating right now, nor do I have the temperment for it. I’m working a more than full time job, write, and try to have a social life that consists of actual human beings, and have this little addiction to a game problem that I don’t intend to get over anytime soon.

If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be on an app going through a bunch of dudes that think dating sites mean free hookers.

Anyway, I took a long drive today and realized that it annoys me when people talk while I drive. I had no idea it bothered me so much, but I had an 11 year old that forgot his phone at home and thus, wanted to converse. When I’m lost, which is most of the time, I like silence. I have the worst sense of direction of anyone I’ve even heard of, and tend to do the “oh! I know an easier faster way to get there!” and I don’t. It’s a stupid thing to say and I wish I’d stop saying it.

My only saving grace on this planet is Google, for if I didn’t have that, I probably would have ended up in Mexico today drinking Tequila wondering what happened to my car and why it is in the ocean.

Knowing I have this problem, I have still argued with people about which direction I’m going and that “I’M FINE” and headed the right way, just to find out I’m headed in the exact OPPOSITE direction for which I need to go.

I don’t know if that has to do with my Dyslexia or it is another issue, but it is an issue nonetheless.

I grew up in the town I currently live in, and the only reason I can tell you roughly which way north is has to do with a mountain that has a ski resort on it, if I’m looking at it directly, I know North is to my right, South to my left and who the hell knows where East and West are,  I have Google.

Compasses are for wimps, don’t even bring that up.

We aren’t Lewis and Clark, we don’t need to know stupid things like directional navigation, we have “turn left at Safeway” that’s all we need to know. Who cares if that is North or South?

I was giving directions to a friend once and said “turn right onto Division” and she said “is that north or south?”

Nah, it’s right..

 

How Many Times?

There are a lot of things I love about writing. My most favorite is being able to get my feelings out, and having someone else tell me they can relate to something I’ve written. To me, there is no better feeling than that. Another thing I love about writing is being able to push that envelope, like a cat, right off the table. I enjoy pushing that envelope, seeing how far I’m willing to go with something.

Now before I get into this rant, I have to say that I have written 2 poems that are about me, personally. I’d tell you which two they were, but at this moment I don’t even recall the name of one, the other is “The Unlikely Warrior.” Those two poems are literally the only two I’ve sat down and written that had to do with me personally.

Other than those two, everything else I write I may be able to closely relate to, completely understand the feeling of, but it isn’t me, doesn’t have anything to do with me, and I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but it isn’t even something I’m going through at the time.

To be perfectly honest, I can’t write about things I’m personally going through. If I did, I’d have 300 poems about domestic violence. But, I can’t, so there won’t be any.

I’ll write what I think is a crappy poem, throw it up on the blog, and low and behold I have someone telling me I shouldn’t feel that way. My reaction is always the same. DELETE. If I felt that way, I wouldn’t be writing about it.

The second thing I’ve gotten is when I write a love poem. I’ve said this before, but I have honestly had men I DIDN’T KNOW writing me telling me I must have written that for them. I’ve tried logic, such as “who are you?” and “how would I have written this about you if I don’t know you?” But for some reason logic doesn’t work. So now I let them think whatever they want.

But, just to put this out in the air, I haven’t written a love poem for or about anyone in particular. I write them because I can understand the feeling, not because I’m particularly feeling that way at the time.

A friend of mine suggested I pretend to be happily married, we even made up a name for my fake husband, and it is Jake. I’ve always liked that name. I made him like 6’3″ and we’ve been married 20 years. We are a wonderful couple that is crazy in love, and therefore these crazy men thinking I’m writing about them have to be nuts. I’m obviously writing about Jake.

The problem is I’m a terrible liar, and will forget about Jake, because as much as I like the idea of him, he isn’t real and it kinda makes me mad that I’d have to lie anyway.

There are plenty of single people in this world that write and aren’t harassed, and I’d like to be one of them.

People write about what they know, what they can relate to, and generally we can relate to things like love, heartbreak, and even suicide. I like to be honest in my writing, and not pull any punches. I want you to picture what I’m saying in your head and make up an entire story about it, just like I do. I write about a 30 second ordeal that actually has an entire story behind it.

But just because we make up stories doesn’t mean it is ours.

What Did You Do?

So this is going to be interactive, and if you don’t understand what that means, I’m not going to tell you because that would be patronizing.

In March my world changed, much like it did for everyone else I suppose. I had to stay at home and crap that I hate, but became quite used to doing since it was somehow important.

So, since I work from home, that didn’t change much, I needed to find a new hobby, and if you’ve read my past posts, my hobby became a PS4 game called “Red Dead Redemption 2.” I play online with a couple people quite regularly, mostly in the evening after everyone is done working.

I’ve never really taken video games very seriously, or considered myself a “gamer” and honestly, I still don’t. It kept me sane for a few months when I couldn’t really do anything else because I was told to stay home.

I learned a few lessons in gaming, none of them reasonably useful in real life, but maybe someone can learn from them too?

1. Nobody actually expects you to really be a female, even if your avatar is female, your character is female, and your freeking name is female.
2. No other females will want to be in a party chat with you. I’m not exactly sure why, but there is certainly something against this.
3. The more you are bullied, the better at shooting and bullying you become.
4. Nobody takes the game, friendships, or anything else seriously. You aren’t really friends just because you play a game together. This is a whole other type of relationship, where you just play the game together.

So, there you go. I’d love to say I did some miraculous things while in quarantine, but I didn’t. I became level 250 and a bully in a game.

What did you do?

Alone

There is one thing about being alone for a long time that people always ask. You have probably even asked it to someone or had it asked to you.

“Do you miss sex?”

Are you kidding? Of all the things in a relationship, you think people that are single miss sex the most?

Nah, we miss having someone there for us when we need them, we miss intimacy that goes beyond just sex and makes us feel like we are the only two people in the world. We miss connection and trust.

I’ve been asked if I believe in soul mates. For some people that sounds very romantic and true. For me, though, if it is true, then my soul mate is either a complete moron or I’ve told him to F off and he actually did it.

Yesterday afternoon I was talking with a friend and we got onto the subject of soul mates. She believes she found hers, then lost him, years ago. But wouldn’t he know you guys were soul mates and like come back or something? I don’t know how it works, but you’d think with something as powerful as soul mates, there would be second chances and crap. I mean, we are human, and living in a time where we treat people like they are disposable.

I’m not great for relationship advice. In fact, my daughter told me the other day that she doesn’t ask me because my answer is always “he’s an idiot, break up with him.” I’m sure I’ve amassed more advice than that inside of me, but I guess that is just how it comes out. I mean to say “communicate with him honey, you need to tell him how you feel.” and instead I say “get rid of him, he’s a pain in the ass.”

While I’m not on the subject, I’d also like to add in here that there is an AGE LIMIT to being a player. Sorry guys, but if you are 45 and think you can play like a kid, you are just being an idiot. Let me explain to you why you are an idiot. (This goes for women too, btw.)

You are out being a player and are 45, you catch the attention of a 40 year old woman, and she’s been through life. She can be put in one of two categories:

1. She’s been screwed over so many times that your bullshit isn’t going to work for her. It takes more than a few pretty words to get her naked, and trust me, you don’t have the ability or desire to do what it takes to get this woman.
2. She’s so unintelligent that life lessons have swirled past her like a fat kid skipping the salad bar at a buffet. She’s super easy to get, and usually a “you are so beautiful” will get her to immediately begin taking off her underwear for you. (Which, by the way, works with every other man on the planet too, so have fun with that.)

In the case of #1, you aren’t getting her, and in the case of #2, everyone else is getting her too.

This is why it is easier and more acceptable to be a player in your 20’s. Also, let’s face it, you are more attractive, and there is nothing worse than waking up in the morning wanting to gnaw your arm off rather than wake up the hippo you slept with last night.

In Case You Were Wondering

I’m not really sure what I’m going to write about today, so lets just see where this goes.

There seem to be two sides to my life right now. On one hand, I’m being the responsible adult female that is taking care of things and going down the right path. Then there is the other side of my life where I’m a little (a lot) self destructive and nearly sabotaging the other side of my life.

I’m very good at sabotage. In fact, if you ever need a wonderful situation completely ruined, I could totally give you some pointers. It’s not a great trait, but sometimes we are what we are, and we need to own that. I’m owning being a pro at being self destructive.

I think part of my problem is that this whole “growing and changing” thing is hard. Have you ever tried changing a bad habit or something you were doing that was not what you wanted to be doing?

So, for example: I tell myself I need to do something more. There is nearly a 100% chance I won’t do it again. You think I’m just rebellious against other people? Pffttt. That’s for wimps. You have to rebel against yourself too. I mean, how could I possibly know what is good for me? I’ve made some pretty shitty decisions, can’t listen to me.

In order for me to actually do something, it has to be a suggestion rather than a requirement. Yes, even to myself. My self talk has to be “you know, it would be nice if today we didn’t drink and fall down the stairs.” Rather than “we should really stop drinking.” Not sure why I said “we” there since there is only one of me, but there you go.

I have to tell myself that I’d really RATHER have a salad than going out for some greasy ass food from a fast food place. Yes, sometimes I have to lie to myself.

I’ve been only eating one meal a day, but yesterday I had 3. I kept telling myself I needed to stop eating as I was warming up some leftover spaghetti.

My sister told me the other day “it is hilarious how you are “here is what I’m going to do” while doing the complete opposite thing.

Yea, sometimes the lying to myself thing doesn’t work and I’m off doing the thing I shouldn’t be. I joke it is always part of my charm.

So, in case you were wondering what it would be like to be me, there you go..