Midnight Ramblings

Actually, it's 2:45am but who's keeping track? I was sleeping so good and something, Lord only knows what, woke me up, and that means I am here for thelong haul. I just love it when this spinal disease plays this game with me. I like to call it, "Screw With Her Legs & Let's See if I Can Make Her Nuts" It's a game this pain in the ass disease loves to play with me and usually wakes me to do so on the average of about three to four times a month. The game goes like this: The disease wakes me up with my legs jumping so much you'd think thre was an earthquake going on in the bed. I get up so I don't wake Nancy and begin walking. I walk around the house until I walk the cramps out and by then I am so wide awake I could run a marathon. OK so that's an exaggeration...I couldn't run a marathon on my best day. Hell, I couldn't even walk a marathon, so we'll forget I even said that, ok? At least I didn't have to walk very long or very far this time. By the time I had taken a quick tour of the house, gotten some coffee and walked back into theoffice, my legs had pretty much calmed down, but I was still wide awake, so I decided to blog a while. I had posted something yesterday that I had to delete because I had all my facts wrong. I hate when that happens. But I found out that all I have to do id go to www.dateline.com and then I can Blog it and get all the facts straight AND post my opinion to boot! Not bad, huh? I swear, the more I blog, the more I love it!

WOW! A yawn. I wonder where that came from? Doesn't matter, I'm not going to question it, I'm just gonna go with it and go settle myself back in my nice warm bed and try and go nite nite again. See you folks again tomorrow, or should I say later today. Until then, ya'll take care, now, you hear?

Happy Blogging!

Just For Fun

I originally wrote this on August 4, 2004. I am publishing it here because not only it is a subject that I feel strongly about but it is actually a pretty decent article. I hope you enjoy it.

"JUST FOR FUN"

This morning on the news I heard that part of what Lt. Lindy England was saying as part of her "defense," if there is any at all, as to why the Iragi prisoners were tortured and humiliated the way they were and then had insult added to injury and had them photographed, was that it was "just for fun." just for fun!" I can almost not believe what I was hearing at the time. Torture was fun? How can that be? What about torture can be fun? What am I missing here? Is there something wrong in my make-up that I cannot see the humor in torture and humiliation?

At least this time she is not trying to make us believe that she was "obeying an order." So, I suppose I have to give her some credit for being truthful there and not passing the buck onto someone else for her own part in the whole horrible mess. It was "just for fun" for all of them and she was man enough to admit it. So, 3 cheers for big bad Lt. England.

I have also seen the articles that state that what the Lt. and others did were only the very same things that Saddam himself did to his own people...so that makes our United States Army exactly like this "great" man. We have so much to be proud of. What a role model for our armies. Gee, we should have been holding up this barbaric way of treatment for our POW's for the last several hundred years instead of wasting all the time that we did establishing the Geneva Convention.

Lt. England and her cohorts acts were no different than those of Saddam's and what saddens me is that when we arrive at that point where we come to believe that our actions are acceptable because of the actions of some barbaric murderer than we have become a sick and a sad society. And now there is a trial, trying to decide weather or not to Court Martial her. I say the question is not weather or not to Court Martial her but rather what other charges can be legally brought against her and her partners in this horrible crime. These few people, who are not fit to be called soldiers, have not only destroyed the names of the branches of the armed forces of the United States of America, and have embarrassed our entire country beyond measure, they have brought immeasurable shame to their family and friends and left the rest of us good, God-fearing, law abiding, loving, decent people, who have a conscience, with hearts broken for these poor frightened prisoners of war. I have often wondered how these people have been sleeping at night knowing of the horrors they have committed and I can only pray that they, every last one of them, get the punishments that they so richly deserve here on earth. But no matter what happens in that court room, I have the peace of knowing that our God does not sleep and the time will come when they will have to stand before the Lord and answer for the heinous crime. I'd like to see then if Lt. England says that she did it, "just for fun."

LETTING GO of HURT & ANGER

At one time or another, we all get hurt and are made angry in this life by someone or by circumstances and we all have to deal with that anger or hurt as best as we can. In most cases we learn to get over it, forgive the thing that made us angry, forget the hurt and get back to doing our own thing in life. But sometimes a person is hurt so badly or made so very angry that getting over it is a lot easier said than done. In a lot of cases hurt and anger are two seperate issues but then other times hurt and anger go hand in hand and when that is the case, getting over it and getting on with our lives can sometimes be very hard. In some cases that can be more than just very hard, it can sometimes be impossible. I found myself in that situation recently and the hurt and the anger has nearly destroyed me. I came to a place where I either had to learn to let go of it or become a very angry, bitter, lonely old woman. I was/AM not willing to sacrifice myself and those I love, to hurt and anger caused by someone who so obviously did not care enough about me in the first place to stop the madness. Here is my story. The names have NOT been changes to protect anyone. If someone gets hurt or made angry by my telling this story then I can only consider that langiappe. For me, it's time to get on with my life, leaving the hurt, the anger and the bitterness where I put it several days ago...in God's hands for Him to deal with. I have held onto it for as long as I can. It's time now to let it go.

When I maried Bud in 1988, Arlene was not speaking to me. She was still angry with me for falling in love with her daddy and being honest about it. I suppose it was alright with her as long as the two of us were sneaking around town, but as soon as I told her and everyone else the truth, she got embarrassed because it was HER father that I was sneaking around with and I guess she was afraid that she would somehow get blamed for the mess, so she completely cut me out of her life. I put up with being ignored by her for five years while she sent Christmas cards to my home, called my home and the whole time acted as if I did not exist. Eventually, she "forgave" me, although some 12 years later I am still not sure what I was forgiven for. But I let it go. Oh, there was a while there that I was afraid to trust her, but little by little my trust returned and I placed it back in her and we were able to go on with our friendship. That made Bud very happy and for his sake I am glad that for the rest of his life, he saw his daughter as a loyal, devoted friend who did all she could to show her love for me and her devotion to our friendship. Her true colors did not come through until after my husband died and the sad part is that I was actually surprised when it happened. But then that only points out my own faults as to my gullibility and the amount of trust I put in a person that says they are my friend.

When Bud had that fatal heart attack and was put on life support, Arlene came to South Carolina along with Kristi and Brett. I knew that my kids were there for me and at the time I assumed that was the same reason Arlene was there; in reality, I'm not sure why she came, but she did and she did stay with me when I was at the hospital and sat up with me at night. On Wednesday morning, May 6th we got up very early and discussed what we had ahead of us that day. I knew that I had to terminate the life support that my husband was on as it was not his wish in any way to live on life support. I allowed it only for as long as it took the rest of the kids to get to town, if they wished to come. Mark never did want to come, so that morning she and I talked about removing the life support. We also talked about the fact that Bud had a will, he just never signed it. The two of us decided that I would sign the will and say nothing. That way, everything would come to me, as it should have, instead of having to be split seven ways and Braxton and I end up not having enough to live on. She is the one who pointed out that everyone else had jobs, careers and a way to make money; I am disabled and have this child. I had no way of securing a living and she was aware that I needed every bit of money I could lay my hands on. So, the secision was made. I explained to her that the will that Bud and I made out did not mention any of the children except Braxton because he is the only minor child that Bud and I share. At the time, she was one hundred percent in agreement with me, even though I know that forging a signature on a will, even if I was one hundred percent of my husband's intentions, is wrong. I had her blessing and I figured as long as I had that, the blessing of one of my closest and best friends, I had nothing to worry about. The thought of doing it behind her back never even occured to me because friends just don't do that to one another and certainly Arlene and I never had any secrets from one another. I could trust her with my life! I was positive of that.

Now, jump to one week after Bud's funeral and I got back home to South Carolina after his burial. Cindy was spending time with me helping me to get things in order, figure out what I had and how I was going to run the rest of my life. I don't remember exactly what day of the week it was, but I know it was a weekday and during the middle part of the day, Arlene called me. She was crying like a child asking me, "Why didn't my daddy leave me anything in his will?" I was stunned. So stunned, in fact that I asked her to repeat herself and she again asked in her pitiful tearful voice, "Why didn't my daddy leave me anything in his will?" My response to that was something like, "Excuse me? Arlene, what are you talking about?" She went on like the two of us never had a conversation about any will at all and kept wanting me to answer the question why her daddy did not name her in his will and leave her some "thing" specifically. I remember that I finally asked her if she remembered any part of our conversation concerning her father's will while she was at my house. I don't think I ever got an answer to that question, but she did tell me that she and Mark had been talking and she decided that we would do everything "to the letter of the law." She told me that if I had a will it would be looked at in court and the court would determine if it was a valid will or not. I knew right then and there that was a threat and that there was no way that I could produce a will signed by Bud. I had already admitted to her that Bud died before he signed his will and I realized that I had trusted one time too many. I tore the will up as soon as I got off the phone with her. I think that's when my anger began festering. And for the next 3 years this anger grew into this sore-like thing, full of stinky, horrible puss and it slowly began to eat away at my insides.

When I found myself living in a tiny apartment a few blocks from her just three months after Bud died; after she had promised me that she would be there for me and help me to get through this horrible loss and time in my life, I realized that she was not there. On three seperate occasions I was asked to leave her house, by John and all three times she stood quietly by and held the door. I was so hurt to find myself so alone and then to have her physically turn her back on me was like pouring salt in the already open wound. I was going through the worst time in my life and the one person that I was sure that I could count on to share my grief with was just not there for me. I was devistated with hurt. The few times we were together she made it was so akward and uncomfortable that I was forced to leave because of the way she made me feel. It was like I was grieving the loss of two people very close to me andvery important in my live; my husband and my best friend. Finally, I moved to North Carolina to escape not only her but the rest of the people that had promised to help me through this horrible time, but then turned out not to be there for me after all. Yeah, I guess I was acting about as selfish then as it sounds, but look where I was! And I am leaving out so many details about how I was left alone by those that I thought loved and cared about me and so many promises of being able to count on people that turned out not to be there. In the end, while I was living in New Orleans, my kids, mostly Kristi and Brett were there for me and Faye was there for me. Other than that, I was on my own and yes, I was also very hurt by that fact alone that it caused physical pain. I didn't even know I was angry yet.

After I had moved and lived through the consequenses and fallout from that, I went back to New Orleans that first summer after Bud died. That was when Arlene told me to my face that it was just too hard to see me because seeing me reminded her too much of her daddy. I need to interject here that during the sisteen years that Bud and I were together, each one of Bud's children had come to me at one time or another and told me that if it had not been for me they would not have known their father, would not have had time with their father and would not have had the opportunity to get to know their father as a friend. Each of the four of them had said "thank you" for what I had done for them. And each time I let whomever it was know that it was very important to me to bring them and Bud closer to gether and I was happy to have the opportunity to be a part of bringing them together. I never wanted to come between Bud and any of his kids; I only wanted to help them all have the best relationship that they could have. I guess that's why when all of a sudden I was not good enough, not trustworthy enough and at one time was even not a good enough mother for Braxton threw me so badly and hurt me so much. Ultimately, it's made me so angry that I could not see straight sometimes.

After I went back home after that visit I put Arlene out of my mind. In fact, it wasn't as hard to do as I had thought it was going to be. I guess I had decided that she had made her decision and I definitly did not want a friend who had trouble just being in my presence, so it was no large task to tell her goodbye and put the entire friendship away after I got home. Of course this was also after I had a 1200 mile drive home and I cried every mile of it, I think.

Three months later, on my birthday I got a card and a letter from her telling me how sorry she was for the horrible was she had reated me. She told me that she would understand if I never forgave her for the terrible thing she had done to me and she went on to say again how sorry she was and out right asked if I could ever forgive her. She said that she was finished mourning her father and could see things clearly now and was ready to be my friend again. Idiot that I am, I forgave her right away and once again we picked up where we had left off as if nothing had ever happened.

During all thin time, probate was still happening and I had learned that the money from the sale of the house was going to have to be split seven ways between me and all of Bud's children and the grandchildren who's parents had already died. Not only was I angry about this, but I was blaming every bit of this on Mark and only Mark. When Arlene and I would talk and this subject would come up I would let her know how I felt andshe would sit back and allow Mark to get the entire blame for the way things were turning out. Not one time did she ever accept any of the responsibility for things proceeding "to the letter of the law." And believe me, we were definitly doing things by the book and it cost me $2500.00 to make sure it was done that way. None of them paid a lawyer, but when Mark wanted information he did not hesitite to get on the phone with MY lawyer or MY friends. My anger at times knew no bounds and the more time that passed the more vocal I got; especially when I began getting emails and phone calls from people wanting to know, "when they were going to get THEIR money." The last time Arlene and I talked I guess I went too far in vocalizing my anger at Mark and made the mistake of including her in the term "people" when, in fact, she was one of the main culprits in the way the scenerio went. I told her that I thought it was a damn shame that this family was in this kind of mess because of $2,000. Each of them ended up getting $2084.17 and I told her that was a piss ass amount for them to be taking from Braxton and I when that was not Bud's intentions at all. None of them had worked for what we had, they were all relatively young and healthy and able to make a good decent living and two thousand dollars was not going to make or break any one of them, but to have all that money together meant the difference between Braxton and I having our own home to live in or to continue sharing someone elses. On more than one occasion I asked Arlene if anyone else had the right to come in after John died and tell her what she can and cannot do with his things and what was hers and what was not. Naturally, she told me that no one had the right to tell her what she could do or not do with John's things and that she and John worked for what they had and no one else was entitled to any part of it. I asked her what made me any different than her. Her answer was, "I don't know, it just is," I knew even before that she was not my friend, not when money was concerned, but when she said this it was like the icing on the cake for me. Of course this last conversation we had was around Thanksgiving time, just after Elaine died and my anger was at it's height. Even I knew that it was turning into an ugly disease and I had to do something about it and I needed to do it as fast as I could before I found myself in real personal trouble.

I had let this mess pull me away from God, occupy mearly every minute of my waking hours and was even keeping me awake at night. I could not rest at all because I was so damned angry and I would tell anybody who would listen about it. I knew when I hung up the phone with her that she would not call me again and I wasn't even upset by that. I guess sub-consciously I knew I was carrying this thing too far and I didn't care. I wanted to make sure she was well aware of my feelings and well aware of how her father would have felt about the entire mess. I didn't even care how she would react to my tyrade, I was just determinded to lay my cards on the table.

True to form for Arlene, I have not heard from her and quite honestly, I think that's the way I have wanted it all along. I honestly tried to guilt her into doing the right thing or even saying the right thing, such as, "I'm sorry I was so greedy," but it didn't happen. The more time that passed that I didn't get this apology that I so desperately wanted, the angrier I got and the angrier I got the more vocal I got. I guess in the end I have only myself to blame for her silence now. However, I am not upset by her silence. As I said, I think I wanted to shut her out of my life but for some reason did not have the guts to just say, "I don't want you in my life any longer, so take your money and go."

Here's the bottom line. Nothing's changed. There's no new information. Nothing will probable EVER change and there will probably never be any new information. As long as Arlene is a part of my life I am going to be hurt, angry and miserable. I don't want to live that way and so the onlt choice I have is to remive her from my live. It's sad to have to do it, but for self preservation, it's just the way things have got to be. Once when Nancy and I were on our way back home from new Orleans we stopped in Hattisberg at Barbara's house and the two of us were talking. She told me that she had told Mark and Arlene that their actions had consequences. I guess this is one of those consequences. Sometimes, in a relationship, too much happens and it's just impossible for a friendship to survive. Sadly, this is one of those cases. The friendship between Arlene and I is a casualty of Bud's death. I can't help but wonder if we had a starong enough friendship in the beginning if this would have happened. Maybe it just wasn't strong enough to survive Bud's death...had it benn anyone elses, we might have made it. I don't know. Am I trying to convince myself that Arlene was a real friend from the very beginning? More than one person has told me that she was never my friend and I guess I could analyze that until hell freezes over and never have the answer...or the one that satisfies me.

How do you mourn the loss of a friendship? Should I write her a letter and do a big goodbye scene or do I just allow it to quietly slip alway? Since Nineteen seventy-something, the two of us had some mighty good times, I have to say. It's been a long long friendship. But then I have also lost others recently. In fact, I have lost more friendships since Bud died than I think I have in my entire life. It's amazing, really, when I think of all the casuality's that came out of his dying. I wonder why he had to take so much with him. Why did I have to lose so much besides just him? Wasn't losing him enough? Didn't I have enough heartache and hell when he died? My God, I nearly lost my sanity along with my home, my car, most of my family...when does it end?!! I have to be honest, I'm beginning to get just a tad pissed off here. And maybe that's another reason why I have been holding on to her friendship so hard. I'm sick and tired of losing, damnit! I know I haven't been completely fair, but that's not the point here. I'm expecting a friggin' friend to stick by me, no matter what! And it pisses me off to the max that it's not happening. OK, so finally, that's the truth here. Am I going to break down and tell her that? There is not a snow balls chance in hell that I will. I have some friggin dignity ya know. And besides, she knows in her heart what the right think to do is, she's a grown damn woman and should not have to be told. I'm sick of her selfishness. She's been selfish all her life, it's time to grow up. I'm not giving in to her like her Mama and Daddy always have. Yes, I'm still pissed off about them giving in and not donating Mary's eyes because she threw a fit. Get a grip, Arlene. Anyway, I have put this whole mess in my Jesus box. Did I tell you that already? And asked Him to not let me take it back. I know He'll keep it this time. When it gets to be too much on my mind, I'll take Cindy's advice and say outloud, if I have too, "CANCEL, CANCEL, CANCEL!" Hey, whatever woks.

And ya'll eep your fingers crossed for me too, please.

A Current Event

I think I have heard it all now and either this one makes absolutle no sense to me at all or I have gone and lost my noodle years before I had planned on losing it. Here's the story: I was sitting at home this evening channel surfing when I came upon "60 MINUTES" and decided to stop and see what the show was about. They had this guy on there who is in prison, in fact was due to be executed today. This guy is a confessed, convicted murderer of at least 8 women, whom I understood that he brutally murdered and I believe also sexually molested. Anyway, this guy was sentenced to death for his crimes. No problem, so far, right? I mean the guy CONFESSED to killing all 8 women and even told where he had hidden or buried (I'm not sure which) the bodies. Anyway, this guy is ready to quit all appeals and have his sentence carried out, now that it has been ten years since the verdict. The problem is that there is this public defender who has decided this this guy does not have the right to say that he wants his sentence carried out and says this is nothing more than "state-assisted suicide." This Mr. Do Good has taken it upon himself to go into court to have this man declared incompetent so that his death sentence cannot be carried out because he is against the death penality. Excuse me? What am I missing here? The murderer has been SENTENCED to death, has been waiting for his sentence to be carried out and now the this time has come, it can't happen because of some lawyer who wants to make a name for himself goes into court and says the convicted man is an idiot because he wants justice carried out! Granted, it is unusual for the convicted person to be in favor of having his sentence carried out, especially if that sentence is death; but nobody went into court and said that Martha Stewart was incompetent to go to jail because she was ready to have her sentence carried out and finished WHILE SHE IS APPEALING HER VERDICT! Why do courts even hand down death sentences if they are going to allow some yahoo to come in at the eleventh hour and stop it? These people say that the death penality is cruel and inhuman punishment. In my view, life in prison is cruel and inhuman punishment; to have more than a thousand people (men or women) crowded together in dirty, cramped jail cells to live out the rest of their lives. When is some dope going to say that incarceration is cruel and inhuman treatment? Where do we draw the line? When a person is given a sentence for a crime, I believe it is our duty to see that the sentence is carried out in a timely manner. This sitting on death row for 30 and 40 years is ridiculous! So many people have said after dear old Scott Peterson was given the death penalty that he would never see it carried out. Then WHY was that jury forced to sit in that jury room for as long as they did and agonize over that decision when it was never going to be carried out in the first place? What's the point of doing that to good, law abiding citizens of this country who are called to do a service for the judicial system of sitting through a 6 month long trial and then having to deliberate not only the evidence to determine his guilt or innocence, but then to have to upset themselves even more by having to deal with a death penalty that will never be carried out? That's CRUEL & INHUMAN PUNISHMENT for people who have done nothing to break the law, but in fact have gone out of their way to try and help! This is a messed up judicial system we have here. And as for this guy in prison waiting for his death sentence to be carried out so that the families of his victims can have some closure and some peace (those were his thoughts, not mine) I commend him for his courage and his attitude at accepting responsibility for his actions. It's strange to see, too because most prisons are full of innocent people (if you ask the inmates.) But this guy...he did the crime and he is willing to do the time and this do good lawyer trying to get his 15 minutes of fame should be disbarred and imprisoned himself for sticking his nose where it does not belong. He reminds me of the woman who bitched and moaned until she had prayer taken out of our schools. It's people like him that need to be stopped before they do some real damage to this world.

And for what it's worth, that's just my humble opinion.

False Teeth

I couldn't wait to have what was left of those rotten, broken teeth pulled out of my mouth. My mother had died from complications of oral cancer and I definitly did not want that happening to me, so as soon as I had the chance to have those teeth gone and dentures made for me, I was ready! I looked forward to the appointment to have them pulled without the usual fear and dread that usually comes with any dental appointment for me. This was one I had been waiting for. Naturally, the dr's office cancelled this anticipated appointment and rescheduled it for something like a month later, I could have spit. But I waited, and waited. Finally, the day dawned and I was up and dressed with the sun.

Peggy had to drive me because Nancy had just had an angiogram only days before and was not yet up to a long drive, so bless Peggy's heart, she was willing to step in and help. Peggy is always more than willing to help, all we have to do is ask and most times she offers as soon as she knows one of us is in need. Anyway, Peggy showed up in plenty enough time to drive me to Raleigh to the appointment, which took practically the entire day. By the time I came out, my mouth was packed with gauze, I was groggy and hurt like the devil. But I had not a tooth in my head. I didn't know weather ot be happy or sad. I remember that for the next two days I was completely out of it. Nancy told me that I would come too every now and then, take more pain meds and go back to sleep. People called but I didn't remember right away. It was days later and I asked Nancy if so and so called and then she would tell me the story. It was during one of those days that Margaret called me and told me about her hysterectomy that she was about to have, but then the next time she called I didn't even remember enough to ask how she was until she brought it up. I was so embarrassed!

After about a week to ten days I was just about healed up enough to where the swelling was gone, but I did not want to go out in public! In fact I was not about to go anywhere. It was May, I had signed up earlier in the year to teach Vacation Bible School. I had scheduled things to where I would have my dentures by the time school started, which was the first week in July and my dentures would be ready by the last of June. I had plenty of time. I was spending my time so far learning to toughen up my gums so that the dentures would not bother them and figuring out what I could eat. I was beginning to get rather tires of Instant Breakfasts and soggy cereal. I was beginning to dream about salads and steaks.

After 4 weeks it was time for me to go and have impressions taken. I remember hearing my Gramma say that she was always much more comfortable without her teeth and for the life of me I could not understand that one. I was just about to lose my mind with no teeth. I felt naked, like i had gone out without my underwear or something equally as important. I could not wait for some teeth and was so excited just for the "impression" appointment. No one told me what to expect and so all I had to go on was my own imagination and the vague instructions of the dentist. He and his assistantwent to work and looked inside my mouth and looked at one another and one of them said, "Let's try a 4." The other one said, "That's what I was thinking." I had no idea what a 4 was, but now I am thinking that maybe a 3 or a 5 would have been more in order, depending on which way the sizes went. Anyway, they pulled these metal things out that looked vaguely like dentures, only without the teeth, out and smeared some pink looking goo on them and told me to quickly open my mouth and then to bite down as hard as I could. What they failed to tell me was that this stuff tasted like dog poo and that it was going to spew all over my mouth. I nearly gagged to death! I just knew I was going to barf all over this doc and his nurse, and he was not too sure I wasn't. I nearly scared the dog poo out of him! OK first one finally done. Shew! Thank God that's over. Uh Oh, what's this? Another one? You gotta be kidding! Then I hear the doc say, "Open your mouth, quickly!" "Nope." I shook my head. "Come on, I"m not kidding! This stuff is getting hard!" I guess it was the tone of his voice that made me know he was serious because before I thought twice or knew what I did, I had my mouth open and he had shoved this baby home and as fast as he did, this gal started gagging. And I do mean gagging! Honey, I was letting loose with the mother of all gags and this time he knew for sure my cookies were landing in my lap and all over his shoes. "That's it! We have enough." And he pulled that crap out, thank you very much. Naturally we did not get a very good impression on the top, since that was the one that he did last, but oh well, shit happens, I suppose. After I got all that goo glue out of my mouth, a feat much easier said than done as it took me at the very least a good 10 minutes, I looked up at him as sweetly as I could and said, "I have a very overactive gag reflex." To which he replied, "No kidding." The good part of this visit, yes there was a good part, I could come back in one week for my first fitting! I could not wait.

The next week when I went back they had the cutest set of pink waxed teeth ready for me that you have ever seen! And if memory serves, they fit pretty well, too. A small slice here and a small slice there and wallah! We had us a pretty good fit. I think they were ready for their first firing, or whatever it is they call it when they put the porcelan on it and harden everything. See us next week! The next week, I had teeth that looked like teeth, but the fit was way off, so we had to send them back. No problem though. Time was still on my side and as long as they had them ready the next week, I could pick them up the day before Bible school started.

I went back the following week. I was ready to pick those babies up. Guess what? The lab screwed up. Yep, you got it, no teeth for me. They would not be ready for another week. I cried, I bitched, I moaned and I begged. Nothing. I told them I could not teach pre-schoolers without teeth. That was impossible! I had this dentist feeling so badly for me that he called the lab while I was there and begged for me. He got nowhere. I left with tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat and I continued crying and feeling sorry for myself all the way home. And home is nearly two hours away! Poor Nancy. She had to listen to me bitch and moan all that way. She should have thrown me out! But true to form, she let me go on and on and on as she usually does.

That weekend, Nancy's kid, Ashley came to stay. Ash is 10 and sometimes a little too smart for her own good. She has a way sometimes of remembering what I tell her and using it on me at just the right time. On Sunday morning I was not wanting to go to church without teeth. I was embarassed and didn't want anyone to see me. Ashley looked at me so innocently and remembered something I had told her about kids at school teasing her about her weight, and she took my exact words and threw them right back at me. Words now that I can't quite remember well enough to quote, but they were some wise, knowing phrases that I could not say anything too, nor was there anything I could do but get my purse and Bible and head out the door. I had a true "out of the mouths of babes" moment. I also thought at that moment, "be careful what you say, you never know when it might come back and bite you in the butt!" And on Monday evening I was also ready to teach Vacation Bible School, teeth or no teeth. I nearly fell over when not one of those kids even noticed that I had no teeth, or if they did not one of them said one word. I learned a lot during that week of being toothless, and vanity was the least of it.

The next week finally got here, though and we were scheduled to leave for New Orleans on the 3rd of July. Nothing was going to stop me from getting my teeth and nothing was going to delay this trip. I was adamant! I have no idea what I thought I was going to do if they were not ready, but I was determinded that they were going to be. I fissed and I cussed for the nearly 2 hour drive there letting Nancy and Ashley know just what I was going to do if my teeth were not ready. How in the world anybody could stand being without teeth was beyond me. This had been the worst 8 weeks of my life and I could not take one more day of it. I was ready for a salad and by God I was going to get my teeth and go and get the biggest and best salad I have ever eaten! I had been tasting this salad for 3 weeks at least! It was nearly impossible to sit still in the waiting room. Finally they called my name and I nearly ran down that hall and into the exam room. The dr. finally came in and was as happy to see me as I was to see him and with him he had my beautiful white teeth. They were exquisite. I thought I had never seen anything lovlier in my entire life and I could not wait to get those babies in my mouth. I told him to break out the Super Glue because I was never going to take them out. He calmly explained that was not a good idea and told me that I would definitly change my mind in about 24 hours and would definitly need a rest from them. I told him that I seriously doubted it. He showed me how to clean them and what to soak them in. Yeah, like they were going to be out of my mouth long enough to soak. Sure, doc, you go on and have fun, though. So, I sat and I listened nearly salavating with the excitement to get my hands on them. (Or should I say lips?) Finally, he was ready, I was ready; all systems were go; it was finally time to slip those beautiful things inside my waiting mouth to my begging gums. "Please give me my teeth," I could almost hear my gums yelling in my ears. He was leaning over me and putting them in, first the bottom and then the top. "How does that feel?" He asked me. It felt like I had a mouth full of rocks but I couldn't tell him that because I hadn't yet figured out how to speak. He looked at me again and said, "Say six, seven, eight." I looked at him and said, "thith, thebeth, ate." "Not bad," he told me. But I knew he was lying. I could have cried right there. I thought to myself, "I can't talk! Oh my Gawd, I can't talk! What in the hell am I going to do now?" "Calm down," he told me, like he heard me thinking. "It will get better. You just need to practice. I tell all of my patience to go home and read a magazine out loud. By the time you finish you'll be speaking perfectly. Don't worry about a thing. Wait let me adjust this one thing." I was devistated. The top plate kept falling out, so he put some glue on it which helped but it tasted like paste, nasty paste. But somehow I left smiling, promising to come back if there was a problem. A problem? I already had so many problems, but here it was nearly 2:00 on the day they were ready to close early for the 4th of July holiday, we wanted to get ready to leave on our trip as well, so any problem would just have to wait, I decided.

I had also decided all was not lost I was still going to get my salad. So off we went in search of a whopper of a salad. After much searching and a near fatal car accident we settled on Golden Corral because of the large salad bar and I built a salad fit for a king. Boy was that a salad. I bet I had everything on there that they had on that bar plus stuff I got off of another bar! I crammed it on, but then I was one hungry woman, too! I sat down and got as comfortable as I could considering the temperature in the joint was about 30 degrees; I don't know what they were trying to prove there. Anyway, I took my first bite that I had been waiting weeks and weeks for and as soon as I started to chew, OUT came the bottom plate and then OUT came the top plate and there I sat with my teeth in my hand full of salad. The tears started falling before I could stop them and I jumped up and took off for the bathroom. And I stood there at the sink with dentures in hand. What was I supposed to do with this mess? They had little pieces of lettuce sticking out from the front of them and this gooey stuff all over the backs...and it was all getting all over the place! Right then and there I was ready to ditch the entire mess, but instead I turned on the water and washed the salad out of my teeth as best as I could while trying not to wash all the gooey stuff off. I did, after all, want them to stick again. After I got them washed off I did try and stick 'em back in place again, as best I could, but all the while I was holding in the tears. The entire scene was so sad it was funny and I really was happy no one was in there watching me. OK, I got 'em in, all the water is wiped off my chin and I don;t look too worse for the wear. Maybe I can go back out there and figure out what do do with this mountain of salad I had made. I went in, sat down and looked at it. Nancy and Ashley looked at me. I looked up and begged them not to ask one question and by my look, they knew just what I was asking, so they didn't. I made a stab or two at an olive trying very hard to control the trembling in my chin. That's when I noticed how cold it was in the restaurant. Were they hanging meat in the dining room, or what? I mean I knew it was July, but that was outside, was there any reason for the temperature in here to be at 30 degrees? My God, it was awful! And the longer I sat the colder I got and the colder I got the more I tensed my body, and the more I tensed, the more I began to hurt. Oh what I vicious cycle I was in. In about 5 minutes I was going to be in real trouble when my body became a trembling pretzel totally incapeable of moving because of the intense cold. But then you would have to understand what happens to me when I get cold. I just can't take it. Pull my eyelashes out one by one while you are setting my toenails on fire, but DON'T make me cold.

~~~~~~~~~Several Months Have Passed~~~~~~~~~

And I have come to the conclusion that I hate false teeth. I looked forward to having dentures for the past ten years or so. I was so determinded that I was going to be able to wear these babies and I was positive that those people who said that they were more comfortable without their dentures were crazy people. Consider me a card carrying member of the crazy people's organization. I have tried and tried and tried some more. I have done everything I can think of and even some things that I haven't thought of yet...none of it has worked. I hate my teeth. When I put them in I can't talk. I can't eat. I can't smoke and I can't even drink coffe without dribbling it down my front. All, however, is not lost. I'm actually going to give this superdentist guy one more shot at getting them right. If he doesn't do it this time I am personally going to take these things and this dentist who promised me faithfully that I would be oh so happy with these choppers and shove them right where the sun don't shine and then sit back and watch him walk peacefully into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again. Oh sweet revenge. Wouldn;t that be fun, just once?

"ARE WE EVER READY?"

Life is always throwing us some kind of crappy curves everytime we turn around these days, ya' know? We never seem to be ready for them either. Life goes on fine for a while with no bumps in the road and them WHAM! Out of nowhere all hell breaks loose and it seems like one thing after another comes tumbling down on us and we don't know how to handle all of it. What do you do? Where do you turn? How do you keep from losing your mind? Mama always said there would be days like this, but she never told me that they would last for weeks at a time, did she? Mama never said that life was going to be fair either...or easy...or even fun all the time. But she did say that if you try and live well, treat others like you want to be treated and are able to look yourself in the mirror and be happy with the person who looks back at you then you'll get out of this life knowing that you did your best. And after all, isn't that all we can expect of ourselves? Just remember not to take life too seriously because it's not permanent. And never forget the words of Herbert Swope: "I can't give you a sure-fire formula for success: but I can give you a formula for failure: try to please everybody all the time." Norman Vincent Peale had a great saying also, "Believe in yourself. Have faith in your abilities. Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy."

Sayings are great; I have a zillion of them saved in various places in the computer and stashed in the desk and hanging all around the office, here. Sometimes I get quite a lot of inspiration from the sayings and quotes I collect and always, they make me think. I especially love some of the Bible verses. I'm sure we all have our favorites. My most favorite comes from Matthew 11:28-30 It says, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest in your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Isn't that a beautiful verse? And there are many many proverbs that I love and they are all so true. Did you know that Provers is where we get most of our "old sayings" from? If you'll read them, you'll realize that. Spare the rod and spoil the child, comes from Proverbs, and so does two heads are better than one and money is the root of all evil. Yep, you can learn a lot by reading Proverbs. Give it a try. It might help you get ready.

I hope somebody out there is reading my Blog every now and then and I hope that you enjoy some of it.

See you again soon. Bye for now.

Some Of My Best Work

Today I'm rambling. There are so many thoughts going round in my head, I don't know which one to land on and write about. My kid got in trouble today at school...again. This fighting thing is about to get the best of me. He' 12, OK almost 13, or will be next month, but the kid thinks he's 6 feet tall and friggin' bullet proof or something. He wants to open up a can of whip ass on every kid who says something to him that he doesn't like. So now, every kid who comes to school with a chip on his shoulder and is looking for a fight, knows to go find the little 6th grader who will fight at the drop of a hat and they all know just what to say to him to get him going. And everytime the little sucker bites. Even the principal says, "Braxton is a good kid if he could just get his temper under control." So once again, he is suspended for 3 days. This is the second time he has been suspended from school for 3 days for fighting. He's been suspended from the bus once for fighting. According to him the kids get in his face and tell him the he's a fag and his mama's a fag. I cannot make him understand that it's only words and words can't hurt. To him they mean everything and as soon as the words are out of the other kid's mouths he starts swinging. So, there's that problem. Cute, huh? What am I supposed to do with that? How do I punish him? What do I tell him? Again? Somebody just shoot me now! I'm 50 years old, for gripes sake! Is this fair? Should I really have to be dealing with this at this time in my life? I guess that really does not matter a rip's bit, now does it? Fact is, I've got the kid, he's mine and I have no choice but to do it. Sweet. That's just the way it is. You do what you gotta do. If I've learned nothing else in this life, I have learned that: you do what you gotta do. My parents taught me that at a very early age. But I definitely do not want to talk about that. We will probably never talk about that. OK, back to me and doing what I have to do with this kid, which is somehow whipping him into shape. If anybody is out there, you got any idea's? I'm open for anything you have. I'm an open-minded woman, ya' know. Progressive, even. So, if you got anything at all, throw it my way. I'll be most appreciative. That is unless it's something like locking the kid in a closet or something along those lines. I don't want to be going to jail or anything. Let's keep it legal. I know I've threatened killing him a time or two, but as his mother, I have that right. Know what I mean? OK enough about the kid. What else has been on my mind?

One or the other or all of my kids is usually always on my mind. I haven't heard from Kelle in several days. Kelle is my youngest daughter, she recently turned 20 and lives in Aiken. I worry about her, but she does well on her own. She works hard and is going to school. Normally, I talk to her every day or every other day, but I haven't talked to her this week at all. It's been 8 days now so that tells me, number one that all is well with her, which is good, and she's busy. But she has to know that the longer she goes without calling me the bigger the fussing is going to be. The girl should know to call her mother before I have to break down and call her! I ALWAYS called my mother. It was my place to call my mother, but kids today think that it's the mother's place to call them. I don't know where they get these ideas of theirs. And God, it's killing me to be sounding like my mother!

Speaking of my mother...ya know how one day you look in the mirror and you see your mother looking back at you? Scares the hell out of you, doesn't it? I know it did me. It's going to happen to my oldest daughter one day, soon and I feel so sorry for her. I hope it doesn't make her go out and hurt herself. What's worse, and if she knew it she would definitely shoot herself in the head, is that she is a carbon copy of me. Someone who knows me very well told me once that when she is talking to my daughter if she turns her head and doesn't look at her, she could swear it were me, not only by the way she sounds but by the things she says. And it's true. Kristi and I are so much alike, we can't even stay around one another for very long without a fight starting. We both have this need to be in control of the situation and the center of attention. Kristi will tell you "no" on that one because she loves to suffer in silence and be the martyr. If her feelings are hurt, you will never know it. If she feels slighted, she will never tell. She will avoid confrontation at all costs, she will be your doormat over and over again and never say one word. She is helpful to a fault, she will give you the shirt off her back. She always puts her husband and children above all else and loves them with the fierceness of a lioness, yet she is as gentle as a loving doe with all of them. She works non stop for the good of all of them and always puts her job on a level as even with her family as she can get it. If I knew where her energy came from I would buy stock in the joint. Her goodness is only surpassed by her thoughtfullness which is only surpassed by her energy which is only surpassed by her enthusiasm which is only surpassed by her caring which is only surpassed by her gentleness whhich is only surpassed by her ability to forgive which is only surpassed by her ability to love. How, I do not know, but with this one, I did my best work...Hands down!

My First Post-All About Me In Depth

What in the hell could be so great about me that I could possibly fill a page? My profile says that I am a loyal friend. That's true as I have many friends, although in recent years not as many as I used to because of a life change I have made since my husband died. You see, when Bud died and I lost my home and most of my family, well, his family really; they thought there might be some money and when money is involved, friendships go out the window, as we all know. Anyway, here I was a new widow with no home and no place to go other than the home of one of my kids. I knew that was not fair to any of them. I have a friend who generously offered to share her home with me and my 10 year old son. The problem everyone seemed to have with Nancy is that she is gay. Well big deal. I never did hold the fact that some of them are ugly against them! Because I have not done what several of my so called "friends" thought I should have done, which was live on the street, I suppose or in some homeless shelter, they have quit speaking to me. So I don;t have quite the same number of friends that I once had. But the ones I do still have are good, loyal, wonderful friends, who I know will always be with me through think and thin. And I wouldn;t turn my back on any of them. I wouldn't have turned my back on any of the so called friends who have written me off! That's one of the sad parts in this story.
I also said I was a fiercely overprotective mother and Grammie and that part, too is true. I will kill for my kids without a second thought and if you or anyone messes with my grandchildren you'll have me to answer to. I have been known to be one crazy coon-ass woman and will not think twice about hurting anyone that first hurts my kids or my grandkids. These are the people that give me my reason for breathing and you just don't mess with them, just like you don't pee in church. It's just not done.
And yes, I have a horrible spinal disease called Arachnoiditis. While that sounds like I am afraid of spiders and although I am, it has nothing to do with spiders. It has everything to do with the spider-like nerve endings in my spinal cord. All these nerves end in the arachnoid layer of my spine and that peticular layer is shot due to pantopaque dye used in a mylogram back in the 70's. The doctor said of the dye, "Oh it can't hurt you. It will be absorbed in your body and then you'll pee it out." HA! Famous last words. In more than 30 years I have yet to pee it out. It stll shows up on x-rays to this very day looking like a large gray blob near the bottom of my spine and all those nerves are matted together like a bottle of crazy glue has been poured over them. This fun little disease causes me to have severe muscle spasms in both of my legs, constant pain in my hips and legs and some days it does not even allow me to walk. Although some days, the dosease takes pity on me and does let me walk just long enough to get some housework done so I don't go stir crazy laying in the bed. But with winter on top of us, those days will be fewer and fewer as the cold weather is a real killer. When you have arach and you get cold you tense up and your whole body tightens. That in itself is enough to make you nuts, but add that to the spasms and the pain in general and you have a real full fledged pain in the lower half of your body going on here. Yeah in other words, hurts like hell! But as I said in an earlier paragraph, I did move in with Nancy, who shares this wonderful little disease for which there is no cure, by the way, so together, we suffer not so silently and some days, pray for sweet death. But sadly, we don't have that luxury. Arachnoiditis is not life-threatening. The pain is as tough as that as what a cancer patient goes through, but without the relief of death to look forward to, we only have a long life to look forward to. Some days it is a good thing and other days it definitly is not a good thing. But that's enough about the arachnoiditis thing. Nancy is also co-parent to my kid and she is helping me to do a damn good job. I couldn't finish raising him by myself. Those first few months after Bud died I was so wrapped up in myself I barely knew he was around anyway. Sometimes I still have my head so stuck up my own butt I rarely know he is around. Those are the times I am most grateful she is here for him, although these days, since he is going through puberty, he's not very likable. He hardly likes himself most days.
How has Nancy shown me that life began for me after Bud died? That's a big question and one I am going to answer with my next post. So stay tuned. And thanks for reading.
Hope you enjoyed this first post.