Friday, May 25, 2012

Skip to page 42 for alligator pit

Sometimes, no matter how badly I want something, things don’t turn out according to my best laid plans.  My obsessive compulsive personality, which makes me a very organized, goal driven and analytical individual (read: control freak), is having a really difficult time just letting things go and letting God, so to speak. I don’t want to “let God”, I want to be in control of my own destiny! Not feeling like I have a say in what is going on in my life makes me feel very out of control…. And sweaty. Gross.

I am so very literal. If you tell me something, I am going to take it exactly as you say it. That is not to say that my over analytical brain doesn’t take it apart and put it back together a few times to find hidden meaning, I definitely do that. But even if I suspect a hidden meaning, I assume that if you want me to know something you would tell me, and then come back around to the beginning and accept what was said at face value.

Having said that, I am very upfront about my thoughts and feelings so as to avoid any unnecessary confusion at a later date. If I say that I do not like something, or that something makes me uncomfortable, or that something makes me angry or sad, I fully expect you to assume that I am not exaggerating, what I am saying is not superfluous, and that if I have taken the time verbalize something to you, I mean it and it is serious to me.

The problem that I am having lately is with people doing things that are in direct conflict with feelings or concerns that I have expressed to them in no uncertain terms, on more than one occasion (which is hard for me in the first place, because I really think I should only have to say something once), in a clear and well articulated manner. And then those people acting like they shouldn’t be held accountable because they must have misunderstood my feelings or opinion.

I make it so easy for you to understand what I am expecting from you that when you do the EXACT opposite I take it as a very deliberate and specific attack on me. You might as well walk up and punch me in the face. 

I have some very easy guidelines that I live by in regards to my interactions with others, whether it be with a friend or a romantic partner, so here are some tips for you to use when interacting with me:

-Treat me as you would like to be treated- Duh…. This is rule #1.

-Be honest with me. Nothing good ever came from lying. And I will always find out if you are lying to me. ALWAYS. It’s like my superhero power. So don’t waste your time because I will be more angry when I do find out the truth.

-Say what you mean and mean what you say. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear to appease me and then go along in the totally opposite direction.

-If you make me a promise, keep it.

-Do not go to bed angry. Make the phone call, reach out!!  You won’t feel any better after you’ve stewed in something. Let’s just fix it now if it is fixable.

-Make me a priority. If you are my friend or someone I am choosing to spend my time and affection on, I have already made you one of mine.

Recently, I have been dealing with a person who hasn’t followed through with any of the above “Becky handling criteria” and it hurts me. I feel like I have wasted a whole lot of time, a whole lot of energy, and a whole lot of tears. I hate to admit that, I would rather you think of me as an emotionally void cyborg who eats pain and suffering for breakfast. I hate to admit that I would allow someone to treat me in a way that is less than what I deserve, actually.  But I am assuming that we have all done it, we just roll ourselves out like a giant doormat and say “It’s alright, I am starting to like disappointment”.

And now , this person wants another chance to make things right.  And I thought that I could give it, the optimist in me wants to give it.  The realist in me is apprehensive.  Apprehensive is not the right word….. Terrified is the right word.  I have this tough, take no shit attitude down, but it is not me. I feel things probably a little more sharply than most. I am more sensitive than I let on. And that soft, squishy marshmallow peep center of me is absolutely terrified that I couldn’t take one more disappointment from this person. But I am ever the optimist, and my optimistic inner self is thinking, “but what if it really is different this time?”

I wish I had the answer, the crystal ball that would show me what would happen if I take the road west, as opposed to the road east.  I feel like I am in one of those “choose your own adventure” books and I could potentially end up in the alligator pit.  Those books are easy though, you just cheat and skip to the end. I can’t do that here.

I guess I will pray on it, that would be the “let God”, I suppose, and see what comes to me.  In the meantime, if anyone has one of those crystal balls handy, hook a sista up, alright?

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Some friends and families are great, but mine are the BEST

So I've had a pretty trying couple of weeks. Things have not been super fantastic in Becky land. I recently put an end to my engagement and am now sorting through the rubble. 

It never struck me how entwined we were until the moment that it became necessary to separate. *sigh*

Needless to say I haven't been especially cheerful or happy. I HAVE however, been publicly displaying my inner alcoholic on far too frequent an occasion. It may be time for an intervention folks... just sayin.

Everyone says the appropriate things like "Oh this is for the best. You will be fiiiiiine". And they are right, but that doesn't make it feel less shitty.  I have some amazing friends though who have shown up to the rescue with ice cream and flowers and beers (enablers??).  And then yesterday I got this email from my cousin:


I need your booty to be in Arkansas on July 20th to watch me and (fiance) jump into the abyss together and then have brunch. Send me your address and I'll send you an invite! Enough about me, now on to you.....

I saw your post and was a little distraught that you're no longer planning to get hitched...for two reasons:

1) I am afraid that you will be so turned off to the idea that you may never try it again..which leads to number two.

2) You may not bless the world with some offspring to continue your fucking awesome genes.

But honestly, from the bottom of my heart, I hope you do. We (last name here) are few and far between when it comes to having the kind of genes that you and I do (and Aunt so and so). There are a select few that stand out from the rest who are truly good people for sure, but not exactly eccentric, risque and as open-minded as we are. You're a gem, Becks..and beautiful, and quick-witted, and overall a person that others flock to because they are subconsciously drawn to your good nature. Plus Alfonso sucks anyway. I love you. Don't give up.


Black type parts of that email modified to protect my identity. People I don't know read this and they don't need to know my last name so they can stalk and kill me. No thanks. And I changed cousins name and such cause I don't know if he would want the whole world to know what a mush ball he is.

So basically what I am saying is, my friends and family rule and yours probably drool. They have managed to make me feel a little better about a crap situation. Much love and hugs to you guys.

Friday, May 4, 2012

I'd prefer the mountain lion and rapists

Lots of folks give me a hard time for walking the river trail alone. It's dangerous, and there are wild animals they say.  I have lived here my whole life (apart from brief adventures away doing stupid things, like being married) and aside from 1 mountain lion attack and 1 murder that happened aaaaaaaaages ago, I never hear of anything scary or sinister happening on the trail. It's a lovely 6 mile walk in nature and I will continue to do it, alone even, and you can't stop me! So there. My odds of being eaten by a mountain lion or mugged and murdered are just as good while walking across a parking lot in town. At least if it happens on the trail I will have some lovely scenery to focus on while the life is draining out of me.

Ahhhhh, it's a lovely day for being eaten alive

A friend and I decided to walk the trail yesterday. It was not a very nice day, it even rained a little bit off and on all day. But we are troopers, and since we don't melt in the rain, decided to go anyway.

It was a lovely walk and we had lots of time for girl talk. It seemed like a pretty uneventful river trail trip. I prefer my river trail time to not be emotionally or physically scarring, which despite my best efforts for peace and solitude, has been hard to guarantee. There was the time the rattle snake tried to eat me... and then that time the crazy talked my ear off and made me feel like a failure at life.  So I was pleasantly surprised that we had made it about 4 miles without anything ridiculous happening.

And then she appeared. Inga. I will get to how I know her name in a second.

Candace and I came up slowly behind a girl on the trail who seemed..... strange. She was standing in the middle of the trail with her arms spread straight out in the air like she was waiting for aliens to beam her up. And then she was waving her phone around. Just acting a little looney. At one point she must have heard us comment on her antics because she turned around to announce (from pretty far ahead of us, she must have mutant hearing) that she was just taking pictures, "It's so beautiful out here!" Squuuuuueeeeeee!

At some point Inga must have taken a pit stop on one of the benches facing the river because a little while later she magically appeared behind us.

We continued to walk, very aware of her behind us, for quite a while. Our conversation at that point had turned to what I am currently reading. Well, to what I wanted to be currently reading. I was telling Candace about how I had chosen to read "50 Shades of Grey" based solely on the fact that I heard it was highly controversial and is all the rage at the moment. I love me some controversial reading so I picked it up without really knowing what it was about.  That was a bad idea. I am working on a whole separate post about my reaction to that book, but for the moment lets suffice it to say that it is..... a dirty kinky sex book.

It offended my delicate nature (I couldn't really type that with a straight face).

Anywho..... as I was telling Candace about the book, and I am certain I used the following words, fisting, anal sex, submission......, and I am sure she could hear us because she was only a few steps behind and I have already demonstrated that she has super human mutant hearing, Inga comes trotting up with "words" for us.

Irregardless is NOT a word and I want to stab people who say it!!

This is how the conversation went:

Inga: "I have a word for you guys"
Us: "Okaaaaaaaay" clearly skeptical
Inga: to me "God says that if you want to write a book, you should write a book"
Me: "A book about kinky sex?"
Inga: "Oh I just heard you talking about a book. Is it about kinky sex?"
Me: "Yes".
Inga: to Candace "And he just wants you to know that whatever decision you are trying to make, it is OK and he will be behind you all the way. I have a feeling of transition for you, like maybe you are moving away. But YES, it is all good".
Us: Shocked silence. Is she a psychic?
Me: to Candace "Well I wasn't going to write a book, but I was going to work on a blog post about reading that book".
Inga: "You have a blog?? I'll have to read it! What's it called?"
Me: "uuuuhhhhh, it's called Hot Mess Express" and I am secretly hoping she can't find it. I worry about her sweet simple soul being damaged by my very in your face, profanity laced blog. One of my latest posts was about vaginal bleaching for crying out loud. The poor thing has no idea what she is getting in to!
Inga: "I heard you say "50 Shades of Grey" and my friend just preached on that at Church. I go to Bethel, have you heard of it?
Candace and I both try really really REALLY hard not to roll our eyes.
Inga: "You know what is black to one person, may be white to another. And God is behind us in those feelings. Except of course murder, that is always black".
Me: "This book wasn't really about that".
Inga: "Oh right, kinky sex. Well you know that might be white to some people too. God accepts us".
Candace and I both feel very uncomfortable with a total looney tunes stranger telling us that God loves us even if we do like to be tied up and whipped. How did this conversation even get started? Oh right, she was stalking us and listening in on our conversation just waiting for the right time to jump in with her "Jesus loves you!!" speech.
Finally, Inga, who had  introduced herself and assured us that we will "probably see each other again" (lucky us!) decided to leave us in peace.
Candace and I discussed how the weird stuff always seems to happen to us and how this was definitely the weirdest thing to happen in awhile. We also discussed how those Bethel folk are just waaaaaaaaay too in your face with their touchy feely God loves you sermons.  Personally, if I want to know how you feel about it, I will go to your church and ask you. I don't need to be saved on the damned river trail!
Clearly my attitude about little miss sunshine and her unsolicited trail side Sunday school had offended God, because when we finally got back to our cars I found this stuck onto my drivers side window:

Ok fiiiiiiine, I am a jerk. I thought hard about what I had done while trying to pick maxi pad adhesive residue off my window.

Who does something like that?? Only in Redding. And it must have been a girl because I worry about a guy who carries maxi pads or tampons around with him.  I hope that whoever did it suddenly gets a surprise visit from her favorite Aunt Flow and needs a maxi pad and then realizes that she used her very last one on her quest to be the biggest douchebag on the planet. Take that you dirty cooter! (as my friend Mitch would say).

Hopefully we got all of this years crazy trail shenanigans out of the way on this one trip and the rest will be smooth, peaceful sailing.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

'Round these parts they call me Sex Monster

Who's totally stoked to see "The Avengers" this weekend?


Why so excited you ask?  Well, let me count the ways:

Reasons 1-100

My husband!!!!!!  If I make it through the entire movie without swooning, you should be impressed.

Reasons 101-109

This guy is pretty cute, and has, like, the sexiest voice EVAR! I want to braid his hair.

Reason 110

Ok, I am not a big Chris Evans fan, but he is easier to look at than Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner.

 Speaking of Jeremy Renner.... do you see Hawkeye in this movie poster?? Hmmmmmmmmm

I. CAN'T. WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!