Getting My Rant On

I've been feeling down on myself for the past few days, in part to reading and re-reading a comment that someone made to me on Teh Book of Face.  I had made an off-color but totally hil.ar.ious comment in an effort to cheer up a friend.  In reply, a guy I once knew as the biggest clown/screw-up/disgusting slacker came back at me with "Dude, who says shit like that?"

To say I was shocked was to say the least.

• A-It's not like I said this in front of a bunch of 2nd graders
• B-You use to say stuff like this all the time
• C-Why did marriage and a child turn you into a humorless bastard?

But being myself, I agonized over it for days, until now when I finally said to myself today, "Screw it and the horse he rode in on." 

That's me, far right, hideous floral skirt from Goodwill

See, one of my biggest struggles in the past oh, I don't know, 12 years is to speak up for myself and not allow the resulting fall back impede on what I was doing/standing up for/participating in/just being me.  One particular time that I look back on with a bit of regret mixed with anger and sorrow was when a (male) friend of mine said that my association with a group of girls (a feisty bunch of women who took shit from no one) was unbecoming and a turn-off.
Still reeling from a sexual assault that no one knew about, I was cut to the core.  I had found some strength in hanging out with these women, trying to recover the shattered person I had become, and yet here was a person who I (had) respected that conveyed my actions, my interactions, my choice of friends, a part of me was something to be ashamed of.  And I listened to him.  And I didn't hang out with those girls for almost 6 months.  I missed out on 6 months of laughter, late night coffee parties, commiserating over a certain professor with a faux-English accent and Slurpee runs 15 minutes before curfew.  All because I was too ashamed of myself, of the person I no longer was, of the secrets I was hiding.

Payback is a bitch

I'm not that person anymore.  I've been working too damn hard to get rid of the insecurities that have hounded me.  I'm not about to allow myself to be cowed again.  I have no right to doubt myself.  I am a strong, kick-ass woman, who happens to be a great mother, friend, sister, and daughter. 

I have a great sense of humor that some don't get, plenty love, and some who laugh but act ashamed to acknowledge me.  To the last group, I say, grow a fucking pair.

I need not feel ashamed of who I am, how I act, how I walk, talk, or think.  I'm not harming anyone, causing anyone to do evil, or leading people towards death. 

I am me and I am proud.  I have a great group of girl friends from my past and a great group of people who Band around me when I'm down on myself. 

I am one lucky, blessed, and strong/crazy/fun-loving/intelligent woman. . .and I'll say whatever the hell I want to.

I can't remember if we were Bond Girls or Charlie's Angels

To my Angel

If you are reading this, whoever you are, thank you so much.  You will never quite know how much your gift means to me.  

Fuck it all, I'm crying my eyes out.  I'm not sure who did this for me, all I know is that I got a deposit into my paypal account that said Because of Band Back Together.  I am so touched.

Whenever I tell friends or family that I've been doing work for The Band, their first question is, how much am I making,  I laugh because even if I or anyone else with this group were drawing a salary (which we aren't) I'd be doing this anyways.  I'm not doing much, a little of tweeting, some social media promoting, hell I've pledged to work on 2 pages, but haven't finished them because my inner critic has been telling me that I suck at writing.  (I know, I know, baby steps!)  But I've been doing what I can to help The Band and now I'm on the receiving end of some help.


Since I'm only partially employed, I can still get a portion of my unemployment check from when I got laid off from my job w/ Social Security.  One of the stipulations is that you have to search for work every week and report it.  Well, when my Gonga died in June, I spent 3 weeks getting her estate in order.  So when I reported that I didn't look for work the week she died, unemployment stopped my check so they could verify her death.  That was on June 23.  So since I've gotten down to my last $5.  I haven't paid my rent in 2 months and I've been praying that this horrid mess will straighten itself out by the end of the week.

I've been fortunate enough to pick up a few small jobs last week, and it looks like I might have a new client who will supply me with steady work, so I think my luck will be turning around.  I've worked so hard to make a life for myself and my son and I'm not about to give up.

So whatever angel of mercy sent me that gift, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Love, hugs, and happy tears,
Caorline

Search Words of the Week

Seriously Google?  Who the hell searches for "seeking Viking male?"  I mean, I know I wrote those words in a post several months back, but really?

I'm off to grind my ax.  And while I wish I could say it was a metaphor for something dirty, it's not.  I get totally squigged out about the idea a self ax grinding.

Aunt Becky Likes Vodka, as well as The Band

A Day in the Life of the Kiddo

Conversation in the Diatribest household

"Momma, you are the bestest thing that has ever happened in my life."

"Thank you, Baby-Man"

"I'm all done with my shower."

"Okay, get dressed.  The laundry isn't dry yet, so you don't have an underwear.  Just put on your pj bottoms."

"I DON'T HAVE ANY CLEAN UNDERWEAR!

AGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! 

WORST DAY EVER!"