I have no friends...
Don't feel bad for me; Just listen...
I don't have any friends, only because all of the friends that i have, are family. I have a HUGE family. Most of them aren't even related to me... I have Moe, Beth, Alexis, Maddy, etc... The list goes on and on...
I just want to thank all of them right now...
Thank you for putting up with themidnight calls because I just need someone to talk to. Thank you for laughing at the fact that I can hardly get threw a phone call without using the phrase, 'I'm sorry' at least once. Thank you for saying 'Hey' When i text you. Thank you for being AWESOME! Thank you for being... you. And- Thank you for being apart of my family. I love you. I really do.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
But I don't want to...
I have so many people telling me what is right and what I should do. But I don't want to.
I have people telling me what to say and how to act. But i don't want to.
I have people telling me what to wear and where I can go. But I don't want to.
So many people think they know what is right and wrong and fit and propper and straight forward. That's boring! I don't use black, grey, and white to color. I use pink, purple, green, blue, orange, red and everything in-between! I want to be my own person and say what I want to say!
I am free, white and over the age of 18, dammit! Why not?
I say to everyone who has to put up with everyone else's shit should read this; raise their heads and tell the next person who tells them what to do- to go kick rocks, because NO MORE are you going to conform to what everyone else wants to do!!! It's MY life! I want to LIVE my life!
I have people telling me what to say and how to act. But i don't want to.
I have people telling me what to wear and where I can go. But I don't want to.
So many people think they know what is right and wrong and fit and propper and straight forward. That's boring! I don't use black, grey, and white to color. I use pink, purple, green, blue, orange, red and everything in-between! I want to be my own person and say what I want to say!
I am free, white and over the age of 18, dammit! Why not?
I say to everyone who has to put up with everyone else's shit should read this; raise their heads and tell the next person who tells them what to do- to go kick rocks, because NO MORE are you going to conform to what everyone else wants to do!!! It's MY life! I want to LIVE my life!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
When Did I Become The Mother And The Mother Become The Child?
A nuclear physicist once figured out that if a woman has a baby when she is twenty years old, she is twenty times as old as the baby.
When the baby is twenty years of age and the mother is forty, she is only twice as the child. Wen the baby is sixty and the mother is eighty, she is only 1 1/3 times as old as the child. When the child is eighty and the mother is one hundred, she is only 1 1/4 times as old as the off-spring.
When will the baby catch up with the mother?
When indeed?
Does it begin one night when you are asleep and your mother is having a restless night and you go into her room and tuck the blanket around her bare arms?
Does it appear one afternoon when, in a moment of irritation, you snap, "How can I give you a perm if you don't sit still? If you don't care how you look, I do!" (My God, is that an echo?)
Or did it come the rainy afternoon when you were driving home from the store and you slam on the brakes and your arms sprang protectively between her and the windshield and your eyes met with a knowing, sad look?
The transition comes slowly, as it began between her and her mother. The changing of power. The transferring of responsibility. The passing down of duty. Suddenly you are spewing out the familiar phrases learned at the knee of your mother.
"Of course your sick. Don't you think I know when you're not feeling well? I'll be over to pick you up and take you to the doctor around eleven. And be ready!"
"So, where's your sweater? You know how cold the stores get with the air conditioning. That's the last thing you need is a cold."
"Do you have to go to the bathroom before we go?You know what a big it is at the doctor's. You have to ask for the key and walk ten miles down all those corridors. Why don't you go anyway... just to get it over with."
"If you're not too tired we'll stop. Did you take your nap this morning? When you get tired, tell me and I'll take you home. You know I can't shop when you stand on one foot and then the other." (Good Lord, did you really tuck her arm in yours nearly pulling her feet off the floor?)
Rebellion? "I'll thank you, Missy, to let me make my own decisions. I know when I'm tired, and when I am I have the good sense to go to bed. Stop treating me like a child!" She is not ready to step down yet.
But slowly and insidiously and certainly the years give way and there is no one to turn to.
"Where are my glasses? I never can find them. Did I fall asleep in the movie again? What was it all about?"
"Dial that number for me. You know how I always get the wrong one."
"I'm not having a Christmas tree this year. There's no one to see it and it just dirties up the carpet for eight months or so."
"Look what I made in macrame today. I'll make you a sling in blue for your kitchen if you want." (It is reminiscent of the small hand in plaster of Paris framed over the sofa.)
"Where's my flight number and times of my planes? You always type it out for me ans put it in the airline ticket pocket. I can't read those little numbers."
Rebellion: "Mother really, you're not that old. You can do things for yourself. Surely you can still see to thread your own needle."
"And you certainly aren't too tired to call up Florence and say hello. She's called you fifteen times and you never call her back. Why don't you have lunch with her sometimes. It would do you good to get out of the house."
What do you mean you're overdrawn? Can't you remember to record your checks each time you write them down?"
The daughter isn't ready yet to carry the burden. But the course is set.
The first year you celebrate Thanksgiving at your house and you roast the turkey and your mother sets the table.
The first time you subconsciously turn to her in a movie and say, "Shhhh!"
he first time you rush to grab her arm when she walks over a patch of ice.
As your own children grow strong and independent, the mother becomes more childlike.
"Mother, I did not take your TV Guide off the TV set."
"Did so"
"Did not."
"Did so"
"Did not."
"Did."
"Not."
"For goodness sake, Mom, don't mention Fred's hairpiece. We all know he has one and you having to mention it doesn't help the situation. ("You mind your manners, little girl, and don't speak unless spoken to."
The daughter contemplates, "It wasn't supposed to be this be this way. All these years I was bathed, dressed, fed, advised, disciplined, ordered, cared for and had every need anticipated, I wanted my turn to come when I could command. Now it's here, why am I sad?"
You bathe and pat dry the body that once housed you. You spoon feed the lips that kissed your cuts and bruises and made them well. You comb the hair that used to playfully cascade over you to make you laugh. You arrange the covers over the legs that once carried you high into the air to Banbury Cross.
The naps are frequent as yours used to be. You accompany her to the bathroom and wait to return her to bed. She has a sitter for New Year's Eve. You never thought it would be like this.
While riding with your daughter one day, she slams on the brakes and her arm flies out instinctively in front of your body.
My God! So soon...
I love my mom! She doesn't even know how much!
Thank you for reading....
Etta <3
When the baby is twenty years of age and the mother is forty, she is only twice as the child. Wen the baby is sixty and the mother is eighty, she is only 1 1/3 times as old as the child. When the child is eighty and the mother is one hundred, she is only 1 1/4 times as old as the off-spring.
When will the baby catch up with the mother?
When indeed?
Does it begin one night when you are asleep and your mother is having a restless night and you go into her room and tuck the blanket around her bare arms?
Does it appear one afternoon when, in a moment of irritation, you snap, "How can I give you a perm if you don't sit still? If you don't care how you look, I do!" (My God, is that an echo?)
Or did it come the rainy afternoon when you were driving home from the store and you slam on the brakes and your arms sprang protectively between her and the windshield and your eyes met with a knowing, sad look?
The transition comes slowly, as it began between her and her mother. The changing of power. The transferring of responsibility. The passing down of duty. Suddenly you are spewing out the familiar phrases learned at the knee of your mother.
"Of course your sick. Don't you think I know when you're not feeling well? I'll be over to pick you up and take you to the doctor around eleven. And be ready!"
"So, where's your sweater? You know how cold the stores get with the air conditioning. That's the last thing you need is a cold."
"Do you have to go to the bathroom before we go?You know what a big it is at the doctor's. You have to ask for the key and walk ten miles down all those corridors. Why don't you go anyway... just to get it over with."
"If you're not too tired we'll stop. Did you take your nap this morning? When you get tired, tell me and I'll take you home. You know I can't shop when you stand on one foot and then the other." (Good Lord, did you really tuck her arm in yours nearly pulling her feet off the floor?)
Rebellion? "I'll thank you, Missy, to let me make my own decisions. I know when I'm tired, and when I am I have the good sense to go to bed. Stop treating me like a child!" She is not ready to step down yet.
But slowly and insidiously and certainly the years give way and there is no one to turn to.
"Where are my glasses? I never can find them. Did I fall asleep in the movie again? What was it all about?"
"Dial that number for me. You know how I always get the wrong one."
"I'm not having a Christmas tree this year. There's no one to see it and it just dirties up the carpet for eight months or so."
"Look what I made in macrame today. I'll make you a sling in blue for your kitchen if you want." (It is reminiscent of the small hand in plaster of Paris framed over the sofa.)
"Where's my flight number and times of my planes? You always type it out for me ans put it in the airline ticket pocket. I can't read those little numbers."
Rebellion: "Mother really, you're not that old. You can do things for yourself. Surely you can still see to thread your own needle."
"And you certainly aren't too tired to call up Florence and say hello. She's called you fifteen times and you never call her back. Why don't you have lunch with her sometimes. It would do you good to get out of the house."
What do you mean you're overdrawn? Can't you remember to record your checks each time you write them down?"
The daughter isn't ready yet to carry the burden. But the course is set.
The first year you celebrate Thanksgiving at your house and you roast the turkey and your mother sets the table.
The first time you subconsciously turn to her in a movie and say, "Shhhh!"
he first time you rush to grab her arm when she walks over a patch of ice.
As your own children grow strong and independent, the mother becomes more childlike.
"Mother, I did not take your TV Guide off the TV set."
"Did so"
"Did not."
"Did so"
"Did not."
"Did."
"Not."
"For goodness sake, Mom, don't mention Fred's hairpiece. We all know he has one and you having to mention it doesn't help the situation. ("You mind your manners, little girl, and don't speak unless spoken to."
The daughter contemplates, "It wasn't supposed to be this be this way. All these years I was bathed, dressed, fed, advised, disciplined, ordered, cared for and had every need anticipated, I wanted my turn to come when I could command. Now it's here, why am I sad?"
You bathe and pat dry the body that once housed you. You spoon feed the lips that kissed your cuts and bruises and made them well. You comb the hair that used to playfully cascade over you to make you laugh. You arrange the covers over the legs that once carried you high into the air to Banbury Cross.
The naps are frequent as yours used to be. You accompany her to the bathroom and wait to return her to bed. She has a sitter for New Year's Eve. You never thought it would be like this.
While riding with your daughter one day, she slams on the brakes and her arm flies out instinctively in front of your body.
My God! So soon...
I love my mom! She doesn't even know how much!
Thank you for reading....
Etta <3
Monday, February 8, 2010
Cardiologist's Funeral
This is just too cute...
A cardiologist died and was given an elaberate funeral. A huge heart covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service. Following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside; the heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever.
At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter.
When all eyes stared at him, he said, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about my own funeral.... I'm a gynecologist."
The proctologist fainted.
- Whatever happens in your life, you must make the most out of it and don't try to be someone your not.... Even when that means laughing at a funeral or farting in church... Just be yourself because that is who people fall in love with! :D
A cardiologist died and was given an elaberate funeral. A huge heart covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service. Following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside; the heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever.
At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter.
When all eyes stared at him, he said, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about my own funeral.... I'm a gynecologist."
The proctologist fainted.
- Whatever happens in your life, you must make the most out of it and don't try to be someone your not.... Even when that means laughing at a funeral or farting in church... Just be yourself because that is who people fall in love with! :D
Sunday, February 7, 2010
I'm a little nervous
I am just starting this out, i am a little nervous... let me know how i did!! :D
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