2015: The Year of Financial Prosperity or Maybe Do or Die?

Last year, I said 2014 was going to be the year of change. At that time, I was in a marriage that had some problems but I had no clue just how deep they ran & how bad it really was. I still viewed it as a team effort, a "we're all in this together" type thing. There's also the idea that if you keep plugging away at your passion and what you care about, you'll get it. I'm still plugging away at mine and figured after doing things for so many years & making so many contacts, the odds were in my favor to see good things happen that could improve my financial state where it'd never feel like "work" or something burdensome I hated doing.

I also had the changes in my life from my father's death, asserting myself, dealing with the private student loan lender and the in-law strife. I thought the worst was behind us/me & it was all about sorting everything out. Little did I know...

As I see it, the minute you give up on your passion in full you might as well be dead. Why are you hanging around? What is the point of life and being on this planet if you've got absolutely nothing in life that makes you feel good, motivates you, inspires you, or that you give a damn about? Tons of lawyers seem to live that way. I thought not being married to an attorney meant I was okay in that.

Was I in denial? Maybe but it was much harder to pretend things were all good. I definitely didn't think things were great but figured those problems weren't insurmountable. I'm not a quitter & have not walked away from difficulties in life. If I leave something, it's because it really is a lost cause and impossible.

So many people I've known in this business haven't made it in NYC; it seems that struggle is even worse if you work in fashion. That is partly reassuring. Not b/c I like to see other people be miserable but b/c working in the business, I view it as an occupational hazard. It's like you're part of a club & others who do this can relate. For me, it's akin to going to law school & finding out your classmates are just as frustrated, stressed and scared of failure as you are. More of that "collective pain" stuff.

The worst arrived & my worst nightmare happened. So far, I'm surviving. In some ways, I'm even thriving. I know I'm thriving as a human being & in terms of my spirit. I'm thriving in terms of having new experiences, learning new things, getting more familiarity with other places and having done things I'd have never gotten to do if my marriage had survived another year. Any innocence I had left vanished but I have met new people in this world, some of whom probably care far more about me in the short time they've known me than my ex or his relatives ever did.

Am I missed? Does it matter? Will I find out another ex has come out of the closet? That would be an interesting hypothesis & if you think about it, it could make sense on some level. For one thing, you often hear about wives who won't give their husbands what they want sexually or fulfill those needs. That was not a problem with me & I couldn't see that ever being an issue. If general notions of the male mind can be believed, a guy is almost entirely ruled by his hormones & often thinks with the little head instead of the big one. If you follow that notion, if the little head is happy & satisfied the big head will put up with a lot to keep that feeling. The guy would certainly not throw away a woman of my caliber or care about the size of her paycheck when she's got her looks, brain, drive, ambition, health and determination (among other things I'm sure others will remind me of later).

For another, some insider knowledge I have lends credence to that theory. Insider knowledge about Psycho Boy lent much credibility to his later coming out of the closet. Maybe I should have known something was off when he told me he loved the song "Believe" by Cher & was watching Titanic that time?

* Note about me & the movie Titanic: I have never seen it & vow never to do so. I successfully avoided it when it came out, when my mother was watching it & if I've been able to avoid it this long, why stop that streak? I also got far too exposed to that Celine Dion song; I can sing Celine Dion but I'm really not a fan since I have more modern sensibilities and interests in my musical taste. My mother says "Modern Girl" is a perfect description of me. *

I swear to you I didn't suspect anything with Psycho Boy (he was my first & I wasn't exactly an expert on guys at that time; I also figured these were quirks considering he approached me first) but if my ex did later come out of the closet, it would at least save me some family guilt or hassle over being divorced by the more religious & "stay married unless the guy is beating you" types.

However, I don't like this idea that guys get involved with me and then come out of the closet. I'm not some wizard who makes seemingly hetero guys discover their love of other men. Seriously, I'm not. Nor do I think I'm that horrible as a human being.

It's pretty much impossible to stay married to someone who is completely incapable of being an adult & has zero appreciation of adult matters. Can't "stand by your man" when he just shits on your efforts to lift up the boat & takes all the credit for things going well when he didn't do the hard stuff to make that boat rise.

Essentially I am rebuilding what I did before. If I could do it once, I can do it again. This time, all by myself with no jerks depending on me or leeching off my drive, ambition, clever thoughts or whatever else I have in me that they don't.

I definitely got change & I got excitement, which was sorely missing in my old life. Some of those changes have been for the better & I most certainly have inspiration and things to draw on that most people don't. I've also seen married life & can tell you it's not as great as you think it is if you've never been married or have to face constant pressure from family and friends to "get married already."

I figured I'd be safe from problems not marrying a drinker, drug user or smoker. Nope, you can have serious problems no one wants to deal with without being a drinker, drug user, smoker or taking medication for mental illness. Gay or straight, don't think I'd ever want to deal with my ex. He wouldn't get my sympathy if he came out & got disowned by his entire family.

Finally, who'd ditch their "beautiful wife" who can cook & isn't an abuser or adulteress? Thank you for that, Talking Heads. Currently listening to "Once in a Lifetime."

Tomorrow isn't something I can predict (don't I wish? don't we all wish?) but I am trying to remember the guidance of those older, wiser and more savvy on this than me. I also try to remember that just the divorce alone would be way too much for most people to deal with, that there are others who have it far worse than me & "this too shall pass."

Eventually, this mess will be over & I won't be reminded every single day of being betrayed by the one person who is supposed to be there for you in sickness & in health, for richer or poorer. I can say with confidence I'd never go backwards or belittle myself by taking this man back if he asked. He couldn't if he wanted to; I'd never trust his ability to change as a human being. Even if he came back years later & said "You were right about everything."

I don't miss him or feel bad about losing HIM; would you if you were me? No, I'm just pissed about putting in my time, effort, blood, sweat, tears and efforts to raise up a spoiled, unappreciative loser who'll likely be going nowhere & still be nowhere in 10 years. Since I don't define success by money, I consider myself more successful as a human being and as a thinker/scrapper who's had to fight for things and make harder choices to get there. At least there are men in this world who are men a woman can stand by & who she doesn't have to take care of or babysit. Divorce is in my experience a regression & akin to having your spouse die, at least for me.

Maybe in some ways divorce hurts more than your spouse dying since if your spouse died, they probably didn't choose to leave you. Getting ambushed just sucks & will test you emotionally. Bear with people who've had that happen, especially if they never loved anyone before or came from a dysfunctional family and life that didn't give them a good picture of marriage or human trust.

Weird how I can be tired but then writing inspiration hits and the next thing I know, I've been up for hours. Not sure why that happens. I say 2015 will be the year of financial prosperity since it's about freaking time & sooner or later, I either succeed or completely fail at everything I've spent my entire life on. I'd like to think I've not had this journey and done what I have to just end up with nothing in the end. That would violate the basic principles of God, karma and the universe. Hopefully, some healing will happen as well.

Why My Autobiography Just Begs to Be Written Someday

Among the other things I've done in my life, I learned more information amidst the death of my father that just screams "writing inspiration."

First off, my former friend who showed her ass at my sister's wedding chose the day after my father collapsed & was in the hospital to try apologizing for it and shoving her way back into my life. Real fucking nice there, huh? My husband went to his Other inbox to find the date on this little message. She told my sister she'd sent it weeks before; ha!

Doesn't that sound ghoulish to you? I really think it does. While I was in town, she kept calling my sister & trying to come over. Christ, what the fuck is that about? She probably figured I was staying there or spending time there. Exactly what would she hope to accomplish by talking to someone whose father has just died? That sounds to me like trying to prey on someone's vulnerability. I made it crystal clear that I didn't want to deal with her so injecting herself where I don't want her is the emotional equivalent of punching me in the face.

What sane person would do that to someone? If you're so hellbent on talking to someone, send a Sympathy card. Talk to the people who want to talk to you! Don't inject yourself into someone else's grieving experience!

I had to play "dodge the ex-friend" at the wake since I figured she'd have zero respect or regard even if my mother & sister told her not to speak to me. Though I think she could firebomb a church & my sister would still be friends with her. Meanwhile, had I pulled the shit this ex-friend did at my sister's wedding my sister would have cut me off completely & I'd have never seen my niece or nephews again.

My husband thinks I did this to get my mind off the whole wake experience. Looking at my father in the casket, he didn't look the same. He was chalk white & looked old. Even in the hospital he had more color though that wasn't him either. I have a nasty Yelp review to write very soon about the doctor who tried to deprive me of saying goodbye.

Before that wake, I did get in a fight with my mother over the same old clothing battle again. Even in death, she felt she had the right to tell me what to wear & had all this objection over my shirt that says "Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go to New York." She thought that the pastor they had doing the service would get a laugh from it but claimed "that's not appropriate to wear." I refused to budge on that issue & opted to stay home. At least one friend agreed with me on this; I couldn't see her ever letting anyone censor her style so I figured I shouldn't do it either. Gee, I don't live there, don't go to that church, am not even in that religion & am a grown woman!

Sooner or later you have to say "Enough is enough." Just because my sister asks my mother's approval on clothing doesn't mean I should have to. Plus, I'm a model & live in NYC; I know more about fashion than they do. Nor should they get any right to try shaming me into being a frump. I knew my father wouldn't care & was never obsessed with trying to infantalize me. Maybe to piss my mom off if she dies before me, I should really wear a stripper like outfit to the funeral (in black, of course)!

On Wednesday, the funeral, I opted not to wear makeup. While I was soaking my eyes, my father's cat Layla jumped onto the bed. My mom was saying she missed her Daddy; it made me cry since I knew this cat wasn't going to get the same affection from anyone that she got from him. I thought about how my cats would feel if my husband or I died, especially my Russian Blue since his breed gets super attached to their humans. Considering I was barely able to get my contacts in from drying out my eyes with tears, I figured eye makeup would be a bad idea. Plus if I'm wearing it I get very conscientious about not messing it up.

I got to wear my black silk dress that I'd gotten ages ago & felt would be the perfect funeral dress. It was sporadically raining outside & I was worried I'd be getting it soaked i.e. ruining it. I was assured I looked gorgeous in it; if you saw it & already think I am even in my worst times, you'd have probably thought so as well.

We got a family car from the funeral home at my sister's request so I rode in that with even the driver holding an umbrella to protect my dress while I traipsed the muddy driveway to the limo. In so many ways it was a tight squeeze and as someone who both isn't a "believer" + is childfree, it was not pleasant for me. I couldn't help but cry at parts of the service & when they played "Taps" as part of the military portion of the funeral. My father really didn't know a stranger; as part of his being gone, I'm trying to be less closed off on the unpleasant stuff.

I've still felt compelled to cry at times. Sometimes little things triggered it like seeing Layla and petting her. For some reason, she wasn't nearly as skittish as she was in the past. I sure don't want to hear about Father's Day shit; in fact, I'd rather not celebrate it at all. Can't even imagine how Thanksgiving or Christmas will be; they feel a million miles away right now.

I did write a letter to say the things I never got to say. Writing that also made me teary eyed. I'm sure it had to be fun for my seatmate on Amtrak but at least he was respectful & didn't pry into my private affairs.

Death makes you see who your real friends are & who they aren't. Some haven't even mustered a "That sucks" & I do know one thing for certain: my future isn't going to be with City Bar's Entertainment Committee. I've seen all kinds of things about their loved one's funerals but no one's bothered posting about my father's. Out of state or not, that's still an immediate family member of mine & I know if it was certain people's parents, they'd get an announcement & information on it. I did my part by alerting the Committee President on it. If I can't even get that, I shouldn't have to announce it myself. This isn't an IndieGoGo campaign or my modeling debut. I feel quite betrayed & insulted here.

Nor should a woman ever have to tell her husband she needs comforting. My husband ticked me off a few times by not getting that & just hanging out with my nephew or brother in law instead of doing the very thing he was supposed to be in NC doing in the first place: comforting me. Is this a guy thing? Do we women actually have to tell our romantic partners "Hey, I'm upset here! I'd like a hug (or grief nookie or whatever.)"

I got back home Friday night amidst pouring rain. It rained in NC much more than I expected during the week so it was a good thing I took my hoodie & waterproof jacket. Made sure to wear them on Friday since they called for rain from NC to where I had to go. My train was delayed by 2 hours but I still beat my husband back to NY state. He flew since he opted to fly later & couldn't cancel the return trip without paying a ton of money for the cancellation fee. I refuse to fly for various reasons, particularly the whole being treated like a criminal thing & the sexism against women with baggage policies (yes, it's totally sexist to women considering we usually have to pack more & are expected by conventional society to care more about our appearance). I figured I didn't need more bullshit when it's already a pain in the ass to get to NC from where I live & vice versa. Unless you drive yourself (which has its own hassles & challenge), it's literally a pain to deal with transit to get to the area. I also expected delays & wasn't sure my husband would be able to fly out, especially since he was flying US Airways (one of the worst airlines in existence).

Only since I've gotten home do I feel that I've gotten any respite from this. We had no rental car or privacy from all of it. No grief nookie or even grief making out, no feeling I was at home or real way to feel comfortable. I feel like a prisoner when I'm in NC, at least when I'm not hanging out with people like those I associate with on my own in NYC. After that sweaty, rain soaked walk home, I hugged my babies (the cats), made the calls I needed to including some to friends & contemplated what I was going to do at 10:40 at night when I woke up at 5:15 that morning. I don't sleep outside of a bed or couch at where I'm supposed to be staying for the night unless I'm really out of it. That takes a lot from me since I'm paranoid about theft while I sleep.

I also learned a few other revealing facts on this trip: my parents did have sex after having my sister & Psycho Boy, the guy I lost my virginity to, now has a boyfriend.

The Psycho Boy thing is interesting for a few reasons. First off, if I were a size queen I'd have just let him move to Marietta & planned a future with him. Let me tell you right now that size is nothing when it's attached to a guy who is mentally unstable & has an unhealthy obsession with you. Not to mention someone who loudly announces the nudity in artwork & raves about how hot your boss is at your work study job (while she's in earshot, by the way).

Second, I'm not sure I had major clues on this one since he just seemed to me to be the type who really wasn't ready for sex at the time while I was. Everyone around me had done it & I didn't want my first time to be with a rapist. I wanted to choose my experience & start living as an adult having those college experiences. Perhaps I was trying to break from the puritanical chains I got stuck in from childhood & embrace my new life. He made some peculiar requests later on but to me, it seemed to come from the lens of "This is new for me & I'm going to jump right in."

Third, he was the kind of guy to sway more into homophobia than tolerance. He didn't seem to be particularly sympathetic to gay issues; in fact, he wasn't the type to even know enough about politics or social issues to have an opinion much less debate me on them. In short, there was not that intellectual satisfaction that I thought I didn't need but in fact a person does need. My mother intimated this with her remark about our relationship not being sustainable since he didn't even have a GED & I was going into my second year of college.

After hearing this, I'm wondering what his father said or did. Psycho Boy told me about his father finding a sex toy of ours & assuming his son was gay instead of going to where most of us might logically go first: he's using it on this girlfriend he's been spending all this time with recently. Needless to say, his father was angry & perhaps a tad paranoid about the possibility of his son deviating from the Christian holy roller tradition of marrying a girl, having babies with her & all that noise. Psycho Boy told me about how pissed his parents were at his older brother for getting a girl pregnant outside of marriage.

I think I get a pass on not marrying this guy or staying in a long term relationship like my family would have wanted, don't you? My mother & sister were always sympathetic to him; even my sister made cracks about how I messed him up by being the first girl he slept with & broke his heart. I think I'd have been really pissed about being in a sham marriage & would demand a divorce.

These days, you can go to my home state or a few others in this country & marry your homosexual lover if you want to. You can get insurance & all sorts of stuff you couldn't in the past; all you have to do is go to one of those states and not live in the crappy redneck parts of this country where people love to impose their way of life onto everyone else instead of actually LIVING a life of their own. From what I hear, this would have been a relationship entered into under false pretenses. You have to at least inform someone if you want them to be in a sham marriage & give them permission to have an open relationship so they can get their sexual needs met elsewhere. I wouldn't do a sexless marriage, as should be obvious.

It was something of a shock but also a relief for me. Psycho Boy finding happiness with the other team means he's no longer obsessed with me or someone I have to worry about becoming obsessed with me again (at least if he's full on gay & not just bi). This was a guy who'd hated natural redheads before dating me & hasn't been the first to react in some strong way towards me that made me feel claustrophobic or trapped. It means I could see him at some event & not have to worry that he's going to do something to make me uncomfortable or prompt my husband's attention.

Maybe I also helped him get to that point or made him presentable to gay men; I would consider it a point of pride to have inspired someone to have the courage to be themselves without worrying about what anyone else thought. Apparently I was the one who motivated him to get his driver's license and work on getting that GED. The girl after me was apparently abusive but you never know: the being yourself without worrying about what other people think sounds a lot like me. I can say for sure there aren't many people like that in my hometown; more of them worry about what other people think instead of doing what they want to do. That's probably one reason I had to get the hell out of there.

It's interesting to note that according to studies, gay men are bigger. I thought maybe this was anecdotal but my husband looked it up & it wasn't. This whole thing with Psycho Boy would definitely support this since he was the biggest I had.

The smallest guy, however, wasn't a super massive horndog who jumped on anything with a pulse. I call him Corona Boy & he was definitely not the sort of guy with women falling all over him. That is something I couldn't speculate on since I was never the type to be interested in those guys (sharing wasn't my thing & probably isn't for most natural redheads) or really get anyplace with them (referring to the high school crush there). Maybe other women can tell us if the guys who jump on anything are the smallest & worst in bed.

It would be true justice if that were the case, don't you think? No woman would have to worry about not sleeping with that guy in high school or college since she'd have been disappointed there too. I couldn't say about women since I've not met any truly non-selective women that men would want to compete with each other to sleep with.

This has to explain things about me but I'm not sure exactly what. In the meantime, I'm seeing friends who care, taking it easy & waiting for the day I'll not worry about crying at random. I'm not sure you ever get over it & I'm still pissed by the unfairness of it all. Religion doesn't provide me comfort on it. The only comfort I have is that I'm going to make money from what I do or die trying. I won't have anyone belittle or undermine my career or use lack of money to claim it's not valid. I owe it to my deceased family to keep living to the fullest and taking every viable opportunity I can. Those not with that program will just have to get out of my way.

I've also got a treasure trove of inspiration for writing.

Spell it Out, Sister! "50 Shades of Grey" and Classism

You're getting an extra entry at both fan behest & because I was downloading Prince songs. I also planned to go into the office today but worked at home b/c I didn't want to risk being struck by lightening on my walk to the subway as I walked under the trees on our sidewalk.

As you read before, my husband foisted 50 Shades of Grey upon me. I still stand by my statement that it's totally porno & that is the only reason it's on the NY Times Best Seller List. The porn aspect has also been the consensus among everyone I know who's read it. Furthermore, you're not reading it for the author's writing skills. I've heard multiple people say the writing was excruciating or plodding in some fashion. I promised to write a rant topic on it after I read it; a little late but it felt fitting to write it now.

I do give the author credit for a realistic ending for the first book. If it stopped there, my inner feminist would be happy since I like realism in my media. However, it doesn't. I, however, do since I know I'd be disappointed in the lead female character for going back to that situation. It also has some very negative commentary & I'd hate to think men believe all women are that way. Let me tell you right now, we aren't.

One thing that really pissed me off was the covering up of terms. I hear that in urban fiction, you will see the word "dick" to refer to the guy's private parts. However, if it's a white romance author you see things like "manhood" or "he inserted himself." In this book, "vagina" isn't used but "me" or "my sex" is.

Why are white people so damn bashful about sex (at least Americans or those from a puritanical culture like this British author; I'm sure the French are just fine with it)? I sure as hell can't write it credibly but maybe I've done too much of it & have the added baggage of my religion infused childhood blocking me. Any sex scene I ventured to write would have comedic elements, probably because some of my actual experiences did have comedy in them. I know my artistic limits & I'm pretty sure that's one of them.

Listen, sister: if you want to write a porn tome, don't be bashful. Be direct, damn it! Spell it out. You have adult readers. We aren't stupid. If you're going to be that graphic anyway, why censor that for us? Playboy's sex stories sure don't play that censorship. They spell it right out for you. None of their authors are bashful about it. They put it right in your face 100% & I'm sure make no apologies for it.

If you're going to "go there," why not take us all the way. There are Prince songs more graphic than this book. Seriously, though I would still pay money to go to a Prince soundtrack wedding (circa early career to mid-90s songs).

I was also looking for anal in it only to find none since that was mentioned in the book as something this guy liked to do. With all the buildup, you expected it to happen & it didn't.

One other thing: with the book written from the virgin female character's perspective (whose name also sounds like she just stepped off a porn set according to hubby), I totally understand how Psycho Boy lost his mind after we gave our virginity to each other. I did not lose my damn mind after I first had sex; I did not have illusions of turning some guy into a "flowers & hearts kind of guy" like this character does. She reminded me of Psycho Boy in his attempt to change me into a "flowers & hearts" kind of gal who'd go run off with him into the sunset. Getting that insight was interesting & I finally understood it more when my family claimed I ruined this guy. Sure, I was like "this is great" when I first did it but I had better later on (much, MUCH better in fact) & it was a lot about rebellion from the strict upbringing I had along with having a means to do it without having anyone I had to go to class with or deal with regularly finding out information I didn't want them to know. Man, if they knew some of that stuff I'd have never had any peace or quiet & would likely have been disappointed with lack of skills. You have to work to impress redheads. Case in point: Vampire Boy had far more sexual experience than me when I met him (he was my 3rd; I was his 10th) & he actually told me I was the best he'd ever had in that realm.

Personally, I don't think I ruined Psycho Boy even to this day considering I was prepared & deliberate in my choice to lose my virginity. If he wasn't, he shouldn't have lied to me about being mature enough to handle it. Not all women are trying to make a man into a "flowers & hearts kind of guy." We can be just as cold and unfeeling as any guy. Nor did I do anything I knew I'd regret later on.

Oh, and the money thing. I should mention the male lead in this book is a guy with tons of money & that's presented as part of this woman's attraction to him. Unlike many people, that shit doesn't impress me; it's more likely to piss me off. I remember dating my husband & saying that if he'd come from money, we wouldn't be together. In my view, the money thing goes to class & how you grew up. A person who grew up having to work for things due to lack of money has a very different mentality and mindset from someone who didn't (unless maybe that person wasn't coddled by their parents & there was no perk to having $ that factored into their upbringing like no bailouts or paying for college). I don't care how nice or compassionate you are about it; people from 2 different worlds on that end are never going to truly understand each other in a romantic context. It's just so much a part of who you are & how you handle situations as an adult that I don't think you can really understand it if you haven't lived it. I knew a rich guy would never be able to fully understand me & probably couldn't accept the fact that I wasn't going to be bought or take shit from him b/c of his net worth.

Not being able to fully understand someone means, in my book, that you can never truly love that person for himself/herself. Then if you can't love that person fully, how can you possibly have a future together? As my mind ran & still does, you can't! You just can't. It's the same thing with differences in education.

My own academic prowess & background is something so integral to who I am and what I believe in that if you weren't as educated or had that drive to get an education, you'd never fully get me. My own mother warned me about that when I was dating Psycho Boy & I feel that relationship proved that point.

That's not to say you couldn't be friends with people from different socioeconomic backgrounds. I have some myself; you just sort of have an unspoken agreement that you don't say or do certain things since you know it would be hitting below the belt.

Now to get sleep. Remember, if you're going to write graphic sex scenes go big or go home (as the saying goes)!

Working Undercover, Romantic Notions & School Bashing

So my temp job is going to be ending pretty soon (Tuesday, I'm pretty sure). I've been DYING to write about that experience but figured I couldn't do it until I finished. Some great insight & comedy have come out of it.

You may wonder why I've not just worked in some law firm or something instead of taking jobs that aren't really "lawyer" style jobs. Here's why?

1. Reduced stress. Legal jobs are so stressful, it's insane. I've had to go through my paperwork for legal matters with ex-clients and just doing that has been enough for me. If I ever did litigation, I wouldn't do it on my own. I would insist on doing it with some law firm or team of lawyers. If you don't want to take work home with you, being in a lawyer job is not the way to go.

2. Inspiration for writing/new experiences. Face it, you can get much more of this doing different types of jobs and not just the same one day in & day out. I also use this to justify trying new things I have an interest in.

3. Romantic notions of working as an "undercover boss." Lawyers are perceived by society very differently than the average phone interviewer/marketer. I can mention being a lawyer in some situations and it scares the hell out of folk. However, if you knew about my antics back in the day you wouldn't be shocked at all.

You have to watch out for romantic notions, though. Sometimes what you think is cool & interesting doesn't always turn out that way. Case in point: the manner in which I met Psycho Boy. I know you haven't heard this one.

I met Psycho Boy when he was working at a grocery store we frequented. As usual, my sister was begging for food my mom couldn't afford. I was always trying to talk my mom out of giving in to her & my dad, who were notorious for begging for wants. I got even better at this after being in college & asking family members how they thought I got things if I couldn't afford them. I said I had to put them back since my looks weren't getting me the extra groceries. Though I guess considering I got that free Blockbuster rental once & it had to have been my looks since what other reason was there for it, maybe I should have tried it sometime.

One thing I'd often do at the grocery store was check out guys. Yeah, I'm not ashamed to say that. This was the first summer I was coming back to my hometown & not being perceived as "the ugly girl." I had been doing new things & getting male attention in college. Plus, you need something to do in that town.

As we're shopping, my mom notices that this guy is following us. Seems like every time we're on a particular aisle, there is this guy. He even got up the nerve to say "Howdy" to me at one point. After this, my sister speculates that he's interested in me & claims he's probably still in high school (as most guys working in grocery stores tend to be). This prompts me to say that I'd rather not be in jail like Mary Kay Letourneau (I was 19 at the time).

So anyway, after I find out he's legal I get his phone number. As a form of revenge, I figured he'd given me a fake phone number.

A few weeks later, he approaches my sister at the store & asks why I haven't called him. She mentioned the phone number & that time, he gave her his real number. I told him about this phone number thing & he said he avoided looking at me as revenge then denied giving me a fake number. I found it hard to believe that I could make any guy nervous enough to mangle his own telephone number, especially after I'd just started being perceived as legitimately pretty by the opposite sex vs. "playing around" flirt guy kind of ribbing.

Could I? I guess it depends on who you ask. People who've seen guys react to me after I put in no effort at all would probably look at you like you were an idiot for even asking that question. I'm still mystified by that sort of thing but now I'm more used to it.

However, I think I mentioned what ended up happening with that whole relationship. That experience really confirmed the phrase "be careful what you wish for." It's still spooky that my husband has an ex who'd have been this guy's perfect match from what I hear about her.

I saw the recent trend on Facebook about "You know you did XYZ if..." A friend of mine commented on that regarding the high school we attended & I saw others comments about this notoriously difficult English teacher. I felt obliged to write a little about my exploits in light of discussion on a computer science class I got out of in a special way.

I was in my senior year & already had most of my credits to graduate. I was in the class one day & felt there was no way I could do it. To avoid early graduation or utter boredom, I was taking 2 AP level classes. One was English since I felt if I was going to have a hard English class, I may as well get AP credit for it. Better experience since I got to meet people from other high schools that hadn't marked me as "that ugly girl" or "our victim."

Now typically, they wouldn't let you wait on required classes & I needed a Math credit that this class would have given me. However, I had the option to take Pre-Calculus the next semester & actually was saved when the head librarian at my school offered me a page position.

I was commenting that something like that probably happened to me since I'd taken on this asshole gym teacher who was grading on one's athletic abilities (which I have none), being sexist in the grading AND I hadn't even signed up for the class + tried 3 different times to get out of it for something else. I wasn't able to take Dance that semester because I was taking Honors Seminar, the AP level English/Social Studies class for freshmen & sophomores. Plus, I was certain the D I got in that class would keep me from being in National Honor Society. Learning all this created the basis for my petition, which was signed by a lot of people. My parents weren't happy with that either & sided with me against this teacher.

See, unlike some people I grew up not having blind obedience to someone because of their status as an adult. We saw plenty of adults who weren't worthy of respect & even my mother said respect has to be earned, not given as a matter of course. There were teachers at our school she didn't have any respect for since she felt they weren't earning it. She even wondered how they expected to get respect from students since it's not a divine right.

If you follow blind obedience of authority to a dramatic degree, you could end up a victim of sex abuse at worst (there were a few abusers living in my own neighborhood that I learned about later on) and at best end up blindly obeying stupid & pointless rules that exist for no good reason other than to please the little Hitlers. Part of this undoubtedly comes from my own experiences with an alcoholic parent, an adult I didn't respect because of behavior and actions. Heck, this guy stole my allowance as a child! Allowance I saved on my own for my own purposes. I think if you were me, you'd also not be willing to listen to arbitrary asshole types. Those people still piss me off so I make effort not to be that way.

As I recalled that story, I realized I was a smart kid & a rebel all at once. I even said they should rename my school to "Parkland Prison" and would publicly criticize the school when I had a chance & truly saw some BS. When I was in the Miss Parkland pageant my senior year, I gave as my answer to the question "What is the most prevalent issue facing the school?" that administrators were too busy worrying about little things like whether the snack machines were on during break time when there were bigger problems to deal with like the presence of drugs on campus. The entire audience loudly applauds after this answer & it was indeed true.

I figured that if I wasn't going to be liked or have any kind of group accept me, I was going to at least be respected & speak my mind. By senior year, I really felt I should seize the day & was ready to start my new life elsewhere. Reading about high schools today & how they act more like corporations than institutes of learning (case in point being the story about the black female valedictorian who was given a "co" slot with a lower ranked white female), I have to figure I had nothing negative about me to justify nastiness toward me. In fact, I'd have likely been more sympathetic than most people with my family life & flawless records. I was not the kid who disturbed class or got into trouble. I also rarely spoke so I guess when I did, people were more apt to listen.

For the record, if someone earns the valedictorian position honestly (no cheating or weighted GPA crap) you give them that slot. I don't care if the person sold drugs, killed people, whatever. If they did something that puts them away from being the All-American kid, guess what? That speech will have far more meaning & the person's more of a role model for their peers. That's a living symbol of "If I could overcome my own struggles to do this, you've got no excuse not to be successful." I'd give much more cred to that person than the All-American kid & I think they'd write a much better speech with more meaning, honesty and sincerity. Punishing someone for that after they earned a valedictorian slot just teaches that person that the system is shit & the establishment shouldn't be trusted. Welcome to a recipe for disaster.

Now I have to fast for 10 hours for a medical exam for life insurance. This will be loads of fun (sarcasm). I also tend to get nauseous if I don't eat after a while & aren't doing something very distracting.