Resistance is futile...

All the necessary precautions were taken, Lysol Disinfectant is my cologne, alcohol-based hand sanitizer is attached to my hip and is used all the time and all of that failed this morning....

4am was the waking hour with the double-whammy that I was not happy to see happen....  Nasty back spasm hits and my sinuses were so clogged that the only way I was getting oxygen in my lungs was by my mouth.  Dry and crusted over lips that felt if I was to move them, they would crack off.  Now, isn't that a pretty look to have... not!  I get up to venture into the kitchen for something to drink, grab my Aleve and pop two of them in my mouth.  With a hard swallow (since I hate pills), I manage to get them down.  I grab my trusty pillow and venture to my downstairs to turn on the TV to distract my raging thoughts about the pain in my back.  After about an hour writhing in odd stretches that only Gumby can manage to try to loosen the knot in my lower back I notice that the Aleve is not helping my back, but it magically releasing the swelling in my sinuses.  Who knew that the strongest OTC pain reliever chooses to alleviate the lesser of the two evils first....  Lazy.. humph!   One unexpected, but good sneeze ends up in a required shirt change.  Feeling quite gross, I go back into the kitchen and find my ice pack to see if that will help soothe the spasm that woke me up in the first place.  Just gotta love those infomercials they offer at that hour on a Sunday morning.  Without them, I would have no reason to snicker and laugh at the terrible acting they offer.  The over dramatization is completely laughable.

Almost 4 hours of "quiet time" mixed with agony and the rest of the family starts to wake up from their slumber.  Sigh, this mom has to put on the "I feel great" face and act like I am a superwoman, ready for the day's activities.  You know, they don't cook or clean... only me.  With less than a week away from Thanksgiving, we still have to go grocery shopping to pick up all that we need for that day.  Yep, I am having family over.  I actually look forward to Thanksgiving because for some odd reason, I go through this phase that I like cooking.  Normally, I hate it because I am bored.  Picky eaters offer less options if what to cook from day-to-day.  Believe me, I will probably loathe the days before and after, but when T-day comes, I have excitement pouring through my veins.  I can't sleep the night before, but crash real easily after.  I am like Ralphie and his brother on A Christmas Story.  Racing down the stairs in excitement and ready to face the day.  Once the dust settles, (and the wrapping paper is shredded), I am unconscious on the floor.  I just hate that my "down time" for being sick needs to be on hold.  Way too much needed to be done and with my poor planning skills....  not enough time in the day.  Hopefully, this cold is just a fluke and remains at a low level of disabling a determined person like myself.  Once Thanksgiving is over, then it can slam me into the ground like it usually does.  Heck, it can drag me down to its lowest point just before Christmas.  I hate dividing my time between two families anyway.

Maybe, and I am thinking just maybe.....  DH will take pity on me about being sick and do all the Christmas shopping...  HAHAHAHAHA!!!!  The day that happens....  I would have to take DH in for a cat scan because there would have to be something seriously wrong with him to offer to do any shopping alone.  That, or some evil scientist made a clone of a man I thought I married.  Either way, it still would be an appreciated surprise to me.  Sadly, it would be a short lived one....  A girl can dream, right?

Well, blogging about the challenges I face today (going grocery shopping, knowing it is going to be insane today with family in tow), the list I need to make of what I need to remind myself to take care of because I will forget, and fight my first cold of the season in secret from DH and DD (because that is what supermom's do... never stop working... even for a cold)... is not going to get anything done any sooner....

So.....

Have a great day everyone!!

The classes.....

Watching the morning news made me remember that we, the people, are far from equal.  No, it is not a racial thing that I am talking about... It is a financial thing....

What all people seem to know is that there are 3 classes.  I am going to share with you that there is a 4th class that people tend to overlook.

You see, we all know that there is a rich class, a poor class and a middle class.  The rich is... well, rich.  They have control over more than we think.  They are on the pulse of what happens in this economy because they have all the money... well, most of it.  Then there is the poor.  Those people do absolutely nothing and get free stuff... call it the Government Cheese.  You have to be pretty broke to get to this class; no job, no money, but if you play the game right... you can get it all for free or as close to free as possible.  They seem to forget that their Government Cheese is supplied from the blood, sweat and tears of the middle class.  The middle class works at a thankless job for barely enough to get by, in constant fear of losing their miserable job, and pays way too much in taxes.  They are required to buy their own stuff with what money they get after Uncle Sam gouges their wages.  They are honest folks, hard working, and humble people.  Well, a maybe a little ticked off that they can't save for their future because the cost of living... you know, supporting their family and thousands of people they never met because the middle class is the pack mule to support everyone on their backs from hard work and taxes....  The middle class....  one paycheck above poverty level.

Now comes that elusive and exclusive 4th class.....  The pseudo-rich class.  Haven't heard of this class?  Well, you should have.  They are the lobbyists, politicians, and upper management of fortune 500 companies. They make a decent wage, but get perks that only the rich get to have.  Basically, they are those that control the petty cash box as if it is their own personal piggy bank that never gets empty.  They have the means, the know how and the money to bend the rules in their favor.

You know, I am not devoted to one political party.  All of them are dysfunctional.  They are elected under false pretenses and become something less than what you bargained for.   Good Old Obama promised change and in some twisted way like Rumpelstiltskin's way of granting wishes, we, the middle class, are the fortunate few that just might have some spare change to cover the bills at the end of the month.  Some, not as fortunate, but if you have a penny in your pocket or laying in the couch cushions... you are living Obama's American Dream.  Nice, huh?

Think about it... Our president is a perfect example of being a pseudo-rich that definitely got the golden horseshoe for the past 4 years.  Hopefully, he loses that horseshoe and is not blessed with lady luck to get another 4 years.  He makes a decent wage that he does not need to spend because of his "fame", he gets free housing, free food, free clothes, and last, but not least....  free vacations whenever he chooses to.  Technically, it is not free, but in his world (and his wife's), it is.  Of course, the Obama family gets the Cart Blanche treatment because he is currently our president.  Uneducated voters and the Electoral College, along with the mainstream media, made that happen.  I cried when he was elected.  Not of happiness, but out of fear.  Call me psychic, but everyone knew he had barely any job experience to take on that position.  Heck, he was not even on the radar when he was elected Senator for Illinois.  My fears of being royally screwed came true that day he took oath and the mainstream media made it newsworthy that he was going to get his daughters a dog, as promised, if he got elected.  I found it comical that he never rescued a dog from a shelter, he got a purebred dog as a gift....  Go pseudo-rich class, right?  How nice would that life be, huh?  Get paid and get everything for free.

I guess that is why that class is so elusive that it is not an anyone's radar.  It is also exclusive because you do get fame, but not the kind like movie stars.  Once you are out of the limelight, you are forgotten.  Now, there are some pseudo-rich that stay under the radar, but still get all the perks.  CEO's, CFO's Management of those fortune 500 companies, lobbyists, and non-famous politicians get similar perks.  It is all in how they acquire it.  It can be in pay raises, company cars, "extended" business trips, retirement plans and bonuses.  It is their stealth-like abilities that offer that "bend over" screwing that people get angry about.  Some are obvious "things that make a person go... hmmm" actions like I saw on the news today.  Hearing that the city of Chicago is increasing the cost of fines to cover their deficit from years of mismanagement.  In other words.... too many hands in the cookie jar depleted the cash box.  Call on the cash cow working class to cover the bill...  This is no way a solution.  These few increases made me wonder if these pseudo-rich are trying to oust every person less fortunate than them out of this great land to make it an acquired island for the rich to buy for their own private getaway.  Increases on parking in the city, increases in fines for lack of weed control, loud stereos, parking tickets, and the rest became a blur made me feel really sorry for those that will have to pay because their honesty makes them do so.  I just wonder if I should start holding my breath because with all these increases in taxes and fines going to who knows when we just might be taxed on the air we breathe.

So please take a moment to bask in the glory that there is still a middle class to speak of.  Being a middle class citizen, our days are numbered, I know, but at least we will go down fighting.  So hats off to you that elusive 4th class....  Your money mismanagement record is finally going to kill off the one class that carries the load.  I wonder... aren't you a little scared that your cash cow is dying off?

The hardest talk I ever had.....

This morning, I ended up having the hardest talk I ever had with my daughter.

My daughter and I have a relationship that can only be described as strained.  I see way too much of myself in her.  Even though there are parts of her that definitely resemble her father, I know that she is more like me than her father.

This morning was like any ordinary morning when school is in session.  The school year is well nearing its halfway point and the desire for a break is strong.  Usually, the complaints of being sick start rolling in and the begging to stay home for the day is at its highest.  I should know this all to well because I was her age once and I am no fool for the tricks for sympathy from Mom and Dad.  Sadly, my parents had some practice over this routine.  Being the youngest of 4 kids, I never had a fighting chance to fake an illness for a free day of watching TV and to be catered to.  My parents were smart when I figured they would be clueless.  Hey, it only took until I had a child of my own to realize how smart my parents were.

Well, as I confront DD with her "ailments" and hearing her pleas for a day off from school, an argument commences and I got to hear that all-too-well rehearsed ploy for sympathy.  Hearing her complain about how tough it is being a preteen and having such tough parents that tend to embarrass her.  Oh, how life is so rough!  I even asked if she was making excuses because of possible bullying.  Somehow, the morning news shared yet another story of a child being bullied to death... literally, and I wondered if that was the case.  The answer was a relieving... "no", but she does have an issue with boys staring at her with "goo-goo eyes" (as she coins it).  Other than that, she feels that she is fat and not popular.  I started to laugh and that is when the argument commences....  The competition of who had it worse being a preteen.

Something snapped in my head and I started telling her things that she should never be privy to, but somewhere in the rule book of parenting I proceed to tell her how her life is so much easier than mine.  Recalling the events of my 5 year stint of being bullied and how it took for a friend to be tormented after my ignoring the teases and taunts resulted in that bully finding a new victim made me snap and beat the living snot out of him finally ended the bullying once and for all...  Suddenly, letting out that little tidbit of my past opened the floodgates of all those terrible memories I have managed to suppress; the pain, the sadness, the disappointment.  Remembering that life is an endless battle for what you believe in and the constant need for love and respect.  Trying to come to terms that even though my life was no bed of roses, I start to remember how my Mom had things way rougher than I.  She is a survivor of child abuse.  As being a mother, we try to offer better than what we had as children.  Life is not supposed to be easy, but it can be better.  As the old saying goes....  Only the strong survive. The proof is in how you take on life's challenges.  I think she realized that is true from the surprise on her face at how hard things have been for me and how I seem to be so well adjusted with it all.  She must think I am some kind of robot to still be able to offer a smile and a kind word even after I get less than that from others.

As the childhood stories come pouring out, suddenly I am spewing out the misery that is happening in the present.  How my perceptions of what married life is supposed to be like becoming something completely the opposite.  The way I changed after getting married and becoming a parent resulting in a very lonely existence. How this once semi-confident person became needy of attention or at least recognition from the one I am married to.  The workaholic husband that prefers to stay away from home instead of being a part of the family dynamic.  The defiant child that thinks I do not understand anything and can be played as a fool.  My failed attempts of making everyone happy that is in my life.  My in-laws loathe me, but in a nice way (or so they think).  This list goes on and on...

Realizing that I am far weaker than I thought, I start to cry.  That is something I prefer to hide from everyone. Usually, I keep that kind of emotion under wraps; saving that for when nobody is looking.  It is far easier to put on a brave face and fight than become weak and cry.  As my father told me as a child that crying is a sign of weakness that people should never see, I feel that I even failed making my father proud today.

As I shared my disappointments in life with my daughter, I became that scared little girl standing in front of me.  Believe me, I know what she is going through.  I was there once.

Well, once all the dust settled from the morning events, I watched as my daughter tried to get ready for school.  Suddenly, I hear the gentle wheeze of her asthma flaring up.  I grabbed her hand, set up her nebulizer for a breathing treatment, called the doctor, made an appointment and called the school.....  My daughter is home sick today.

Remembering and appreciating....

Growing up with a veteran was something I never took for granted.  My Dad fought in WWII.  103rd Infantry Division - Army.  I remember interviewing my Dad about his service as a project for school when it came to learning about someone that played a big part of my life.  My Dad was my hero, and still is.  When it came to days of remembrance, like Veterans Day, I seemed to notice a more somber side of my Dad and being so young, I never really put much thought into it.  Well, that was until I got older, I learned a little more that increased my appreciation for things.  You see, I never experienced death because of war like my Dad did, nor have I ever stepped forward into the line of fire.

Looking back, I wondered why my Dad was so intrigued with the History Channel on TV.  Watching recorded accounts of a war long past was something I never shown interest in.  I would figure that fighting a war would be the last thing that you would want to remember, but I do know that it is something that you never forget.  Witnessing such violence towards people that become your family away from family scars a person.  Little did I know, it was something my Dad held close to his heart because even though he was blessed to return home from his tour of duty, he had a hard time dealing with the fact that his own brother died fighting in the same war.  You see, back then, people did not willingly enlist to fight in a war.  They were drafted.  Now, my Dad being the eldest of two boys was the one selected for the draft to fight in the war.  His brother, being younger than him was not drafted, but was determined to take part.  After getting permission from their mother, he was able to enlist and join the fight.  Even though it was in the best interest to keep his brother behind because if my father was to never return, there would still be a son to carry on the family name.  That alone should have been reason to not go willingly into war, but my uncle did not see that as the deciding factor to stay behind.  The odds of returning home were 50/50.  In my Dad's case, that rang true.  Two boys went to war and only one returned.  Yes, I am saddened that I had an uncle that I would never get to know, but blessed that my father returned because... without him... I would have never existed.

The appreciation for those who served comes from my Dad.  That interview I did on him, oh so many years ago, taught me much more than I could have ever learned in a classroom.  There was no glamour in war.  Fear and determination was the driving force to trudge forward, but it was those back at home that made their efforts worth it.  Fighting in a war was never just about them.  It was about protecting the ones they loved.  For love of country, its people and the freedoms that every person holds dear.  Their faith in God was the cornerstone to keep strong, swift and safe.  People willingly sacrificed their lives to protect others.  No, they never desired to be labeled heroes, but they had the blood of heroes running through their veins.  Without them fighting for us and the greater good, we would have far less freedoms to appreciate.  Sadly, we tend to not really see the the greatness of those liberties that we have bestowed upon us.  The whole concept of things we take for granted is more common than we think.  Well at least we have that one day to take pause, reflect and be thankful for those heroes that never saw them as anything other than equals.... Veterans Day.

Veterans Day is just one day to most, but for me it is an everyday thing because of my Dad.  I am thankful for him well beyond his service to this country.  I am thankful that he was my Dad.  10 years have passed since his death.  He knew things beyond what others seem to know and I learned so much from him.  He experienced things that we would never want to experience and he appreciated every moment of his life.  As like all those that survived the strife of battle, those who perished, and those who answered the call the enlist that still believe in this great nation....  for the love of man, woman, child and country.... they never saw themselves as  heroes, but I do.  My Dad was a hero and that is all that matters to me.....  What about you?

The raw end of the deal....

Ah, the 40's.  That pivotal age that throws every man and woman a curve ball.  Women seem to desperately grasp onto whatever they can with sheer desperation running through their veins.  Somehow, a woman in her 40's is not the hottie found on calendars, straddling cars or motorcycles that grace the walls of every man's garage.  While women struggle to remain somewhat desirable to the opposite sex, men in that same age bracket are blowing their retirement savings on sport cars, motorcycles, and drinks to the 20-something barflies.  Men do not suffer hot flashes, night sweats, and mood swings like women do.  Well, as far as I know.  I am a girl, ya know.  Okay, scratch that.... I am a woman.... in my 40's.

Now, I am lucky enough to believe that my dear other half is not letting that midlife crisis monkey out of his cage, but somehow, I have become that 40-something mental patient, insecure in my own skin.  I know that "the change" has not hit me, yet, but I definitely see the insecurities rearing its ugly head.  Making sure that I have my hair and makeup done before I step one foot out of my house has become mandatory.  My "natural" hair color comes from a bottle, and I am on the verge to trying every cream, lotion, and potion to hide those minuscule wrinkles that have started to form.  No longer able to eat anything, I am on a perpetual diet, and I am noticing all those "cute" clothes no longer applying to my old frame.  Believe me, I have seen some women wearing clothes I normally see teenagers wear and it is not a cute sight to see.  Fearing that my desire to look good will result in looking like a fool on parade, I am cautious about what I wear.  Sadly, that cool chick my husband married is slowly becoming something I never dreamed of becoming...  insecure and needy for attention.  What I find so comical is that I married my equal and I feel far from being equal.  He has remained the same, for the most part, and only I have changed.  Okay, he does not make goo-goo eyes at me anymore, roses for Valentines Day is long gone, and I rarely hear a compliment on how I look.  In fact, I don't even think he looks at me.  The only time he has seen something worth commenting on is when I cut half of a foot of hair off my head and made it red.  Even that did not raise a spark of interest.  That was a definite shoot down of my ego, if I ever had one.  I can only guess that my feeble attempts of remaining somewhat youthful is really only for my ego and not his.  I am far from being a trophy wife.  I have too much tomboy in my veins.  I am every dude's buddy.

I just find it so unfair at how men get the better end of the deal.  Gray hair on them makes them distinguished while gray hair on women just makes them look old.  That little "beer gut" is cute on guys, but that "muffin top" on women is just repulsive.  Women go through hormonal hell while men get to go buy a new sports car.  The only equal opportunity phase left is the mood swings.  Nobody likes being a freak or being around one.  At least men do not cry at the drop of a hat, they just brush it off.  Of course, men never gave birth, so hormones are never out of whack for them anyway.  I do believe that physical exams are on a level playing field.  Both do suffer some pretty uncomfortable situations.  I never had to "turn my head and cough" while being grabbed, but they never had their chest slammed between two plates or swabbed in a place that the sun never shines, so I guess that makes us even.

Still, I see it is unfair.  I just wonder when the tables are going to turn.  I want to be that Demi Moore 40 is the new 20.  Is it genetics that she is so darn lucky or do I need a referral.....

Questions.... (a poem)

Tears well up in her eyes.

Thoughts racing

  questions forming.

So much to learn

  about life, that is.

What is love?

Is it a feeling shared

  or an action taken?

Is being loved

  more important than to feel loved?

Is desire just a want

  or just a need to be wanted?

Can people fall out of love

  as quickly as they can fall in?

Does love truly die?

Is beauty truly something

  that comes from within?

Or is it something

  that needs validity from the outside?

Must you need to be beautiful

  to be loved?

Or is it who you truly are

  that makes you worthy of love?

Is what you see 

  truly what you get?

Or is it a facade 

  that fools the naive?

Can people truly change?

Why does your heart hurt

  when romance fades away?

Is romance the true act of love

  or is being desired the reason?

Why is there a need to be desired?

Is it truly a want

  or just something we need?

Must there always be 

  sadness with happiness?

Am I strong enough 

  to weather any storm?

Will I be missed

  after saying goodbye?

What makes a person memorable?

Is it what they see

  or what they know?

Was I ever truly accepted

  or pitied?

Questions of life....

    Do I really want to know the answers?

The games people play....

Morning friends :)
Random thoughts running through my mind that decided that today is the day I share them with you all...  and it is about time I do so...

Why must life consist of games?  In the past, I shared with all of you the game that I learned of after playing it so terribly...  The 'I win, you lose' game.  If you cannot recall the basis of the game... here it is in a nutshell....  "I made up this game to guarantee that no matter how hard you try you will always be wrong because the rules that I never really shared with you will change to my liking at any time so you can never be right.... Thus, I will always win and you will always lose."  Vicious game, if you ask me.  If it is played well, you never see it coming.  Well, I found another one that should be brought to light.  I think I can coin this one......  Fishing for vulnerabilities.

The game is simple, yet a little complicated.  All you need is a willing victim of your past or even a willing new one gullible to take the bait.  You create or rebuild a friendship with this person, build them up, and crush them like a bug.  All it takes is some fake honesty, some select lies, and a planned time frame.  Well, knowing your limitations sure does help.  Believe me, I have been a victim of this game before and I think I am an easy target, too.  Just be nice and believe that every person has good intentions and there might as well been a huge flashing, neon bulls eye flashing on your forehead.  Yep, the "sucker here" sign must have been flashing pretty darn bright on me lately because I actually felt sorry for a person that I should have never felt sorry for in the first place.

Now, the intended goal of this game is still not clear, but I can definitely see the plethora of optional goals that can be achieved.  So far, I have seen the vulnerabilities game offer the winner a boost of morale or confidence that can almost be labeled as a "notch in ones belt" because they still have something over you.  I guess that is why this game, along with the 'I win, you lose' game can be vicious if played properly.  Both end up becoming something completely devastating once the realization hits that you have been played.  The only protection anyone has from this game of fishing for vulnerabilities is to never believe in anyone's intentions, words or actions.  Makes it pretty hard to trust anyone.  As for the 'I win, you lose' game, I still have not figured a way to turn the tables and level the playing field for that one.

I just wonder why must people feel compelled to play these games.  Oh, believe me, there are probably more games out there and I guess I am the test subject for all of them.  I just seem to lack the ability to look through the B.S. until it is too late.  I should be totally angered by the fact that there are players of these games out there, but you know what????  I should be thanking them.  If it was not for them to play that game on me so well, I would have been remaining in that blissful ignorance of an existence.  So for those that have managed to knock off yet another layer of that rose colored tint on my glasses of life...  I want to thank you for making me that much smarter.  Things are looking a little brighter for me and choosing me as your victim only makes your little secret game a little less of a secret.  Now, aren't you a little disappointed that you chose to play this game with me, huh?  The only thing that has saddened me just a little is that I had to be played to learn about it.  Eh, I will get over it...

Have a great day everyone :)