To myself on the end of my 36th year on this crazy ride…

People often ask me, what I want for my birthday. I honestly never have an answer. Well, I lied, I do have an answer but it isn’t one that is friendly nor very nice at all. Most times it is, well if you know me you know what I like and any old thing will do.  Or if I have to tell you then you shouldn’t be buying me a damn thing because you and I aren’t that close and chances are I have given you gifts just because I was obligated.  Let me just jump back just a bit. I don’t like my birthday. It isn’t like I hate being alive or anything like that, just the opposite. I love being here on this crazy ride. I am grateful for the gifts I have been given (my wit, sarcasm, and cynicism). My birthday started to suck for me years ago when I lost a family member. Now,  it isn’t like they died on my birthday, no they were buried, put in the ground on my birthday. You know when you are little and you have a favorite toy or blanket and then the day comes when you have to go off to school and you can’t take it with you, that sense of loss that comes with it, yeah that loss is what I can’t help but feel every single birthday. I had to say goodbye, a final never see you again as long as I live goodbye. An I will miss you every single moment of every day and every time something happy happens, I will want to call and share this with you but be reminded that I can’t type of ultimate and unending loss. I know what you are probably thinking, Get Over IT crazy lady… Well truth is I won’t ever. As long as I breathe I will not ever get rid of that loss. I try, oh trust and believe I try. I have tried alcohol ( didn’t work all it got me was admittance into a club I never wanted to be president of), I have tried denying the feeling of loss ( got myself anxiety for this one). I have even tried to convince myself that hiding the sad and putting on a happy face and surrounding myself with friends would work (guess what it did NOT work and just made the gaping hole and missing piece all more visible to me). Being in a room pretending to be fine with a bunch of people who claim to love you and not having one of the people who you knew loved you unconditionally is not a good plan. So year after year I have tried in vain to make myself normal by appearance on this day. This year I decided not to do this at all. I have decided to allow myself to ride this out, I mean after 36 years on this crazy ride I think I can grant myself one short stint of do what the hell ever I want to and so I am. I am not going to deny my sadness, I will not deny the sense of abandonment I feel in a room full of people, I will just allow myself to feel. Feel every last pain, ache, and empty feeling. I am hoping that this will help me and everyone around me who for the last many years I have asked to forget this day and my celebration of life and accomplishments. I am done with being sad. I know that in heaven a celebration will be happening with all the loved ones who I have lost and who I miss but two who are more special than most. So on end of this my 36th year on this crazy ride, I say to myself do not be afraid to be happy, allow yourself to feel, and damn it have FUN because life is too damn short and you will see those you miss again not here but again on another plane and in due time. So DO amazing things with the time you have here. All of you including myself and damn it love one another because life is just too damn short and really less fun if you don’t allow someone to love you and love them in return. Laugh loud, Love Hard, and damn it Live like you won’t wake up tomorrow. Love to you all!

Who do I think I am?

Well let me start this by saying, I know who I am. But this question was posed because of a hot topic that I evoked by making a post on social media about some neighbors of mine and it started out as a mad rant because of everything that was going on and it ended up getting truncated when I initially posted it from my phone which then led to someone who was a superficial friend posting something even more rude and obnoxious only because I suspect it hit a nerve. I will explain more in a few seconds. Here is what my truncated post initially looked like : This is fucking break point now, the little demon seeded bastards next door are about 2 minutes from being tied up and duct taped to their lazy, good for nothing, could give two shits about anything but themselves, so called, parent’s rented front door. They were just in my front yard (again) unsupervised and they were messing with my replanted flowers, I spent 4 fucking hours yesterday replanting and potting these seedlings and it took all of 2 minutes for female bastard child to destroy 3 pots worth of my flowers…..And before you all say (oh how can you call those kids those names…I am using terms I have heard both their parents refer to them as nothing more nothing less. BTW bastard is the correct term for them because they were both born out of wedlock…just sayin’

This is what it said fully without the truncation:This is fucking break point now, the little demon seeded bastards next door are about 2 minutes from being tied up and duct taped to their lazy, good for nothing, could give two shits about anything but themselves, so called, parent’s rented front door. They were just in my front yard (again) unsupervised and they were messing with my replanted flowers, I spent 4 fucking hours yesterday replanting and potting these seedlings and it took all of 2 minutes for female bastard child to destroy 3 pots worth of my flowers…..And before you all say (oh how can you call those kids those names…I am using terms I have heard both their parents refer to them as nothing more nothing less. BTW bastard is the correct term for them because they were both born out of wedlock…just repeating what the people who are suppose to be their parents say on a daily basis. ) Does this make me sick to my stomach, yes it does. But this is what I have to put up with on a daily basis. Thank God they will be gone in 15 days.

Do you see what happened there…the phone changed my word repeating to sayin’ and then posted it and truncated the rest of the post. So after one of my very old and dear friend notified me that my post was missing an end parentheses let him know I noted it and went into fix it not even realizing that part of my post was missing and then after I fixed it I had to wait for my phone to update and then I read the post and realized what my phone did, so I logged onto my laptop and fixed my post to say what it was originally suppose to say in the first place. So while this is all going on.. one of my “so called friends” and I say so called because this girl was nothing but RUDE to me in high school. She is so stuck up her own ass that I said hi to her at a public function a few months back and she basically blew me off. So that is how we get to the so called status. I get it I am not everyone’s cup of tea. Hell sometimes I can’t stand myself. But one thing I know is who the hell I am. Which leads me to the so called friend’s post: If you refer to children as “illegitimate” or “bastards” please just delete me from your friends list. Now. ‪#‎whodoyouthinkyouare‬
There is NO SUCH THING as an “illegitimate” child! Nothing makes me angrier!

Well to answer this here it goes. There is a such thing as ILLEGITIMATE. Webster’s Dictionary defines it as follows:
Dictionary
illegitimate
adjective il·le·git·i·mate \-ˈji-tə-mət\
: born to a father and mother who are not married.

So this who do I think I am… I am the girl you didn’t look twice at in high school, I am the one you gossiped about with all your popular friends. I am the girl who protected her virginity. I am the girl who didn’t lay down and have sex and get pregnant before marriage. I am old school. I have the morals and beliefs that my parents, grandparents, and godparents instilled in me that I am important and that I am worth the wait. I am the girl who didn’t give it up to any guy who told me I had the right clothes, the right hair, or hang with the right crowd. I am the girl who didn’t go to parties in high school and get drunk, I stayed home and studied, I helped my family. I worked for everything I had and have. I am the woman who will pass the morals and values to my children and teach them to be pillars of virtue and to go by the old school rules . I will tell my children to save themselves for the right person. I am the woman who did it the “right way” I fell in love not lust, I got married and then and only then did I have a child. Two wonderful children who are the center of my world to be exact. So if you are willing to question me on who I am…let me ask you….Who Do You think YOU are?? I know all too well who I am. I have been with the same man for 15 years and have been married to him for 12 years. I may not be the best friend or worst enemy of anyone but I know who the hell I am. So before you try to pass judgement on anyone else take that mirror and look at who you truly are not who you think you are in your own mind.

My Review of Poughkeepsie Begins by Debra Anastasia.

This book is the prequel to the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. When you read the first three books you get a sense of the 3 brothers, Cole, Beckett, and Blake from the time Liv meets Blake on, but we don’t know the backstory of the boys..until now. Debra has touched us in places we haven’t been touched with the three books and the three brothers we have come to love. But we never really know why or how Beckett became the badass he is and why is so hung up on Eve. We never really know why Cole is such a religious soul. And we never really know why Blake is so hard and quiet. Well all those questions have been answered now. I won’t give it away, I promise. You will have to read the book to know how it all Begins! I will say that Debra weaves a wonderful story and yet again sucks us into the brother’s world. We meet Mouse and Chaos(for the very first time as the brothers do) and a new character Candy. Debra wrote this book so well that is you feel with our 3 boys, when they hurt you hurt, when they delight you delight, and when they solve the problems they take you with them on their adventures ( not going to say what they are). You see the soft side of the 3 brothers and I love Debra for showing us that. You see their hurt and how broken they truly are in this book and why they can’t be the world’s version of normal, but they are normal to each other and to each of us who are lucky enough to get this rare glimpse into their teenage lives. I will tell you to get a box of tissues ready, you will weep for these boys as they move into the role of the men they will become. I will admit I was destroyed for a little bit and had to put the book down for a few hours while I wiped tears away reading Cole’s plot in this book. It hit me right in the feels. I am woman enough to say I also cried for Beckett and his loss as he said goodbye to his childhood and hello to his manhood title. This book was a very easy read, the chapters were short and the words and transitions from one plot point to the next flowed so seamlessly that sometimes I found myself so immersed in the story I forgot that the brothers weren’t real. Many thanks to Debra for the ARC of this book, I could not imagine waiting another 4 days to read this book. It would have killed me. I suggest that you reserve your copy, of Poughkeepsie Begins, now you can find the links below. 4 days until this book is ready for your eyes, are you ready for Poughkeepsie Begins?

Poughkeepsie Begins~~~~ Pre order NOW!!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MlhCMp
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Y2d98U
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1MxLcSh
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1MUj7GV
Nook: http://bit.ly/1RKRA90
iTunes: http://apple.co/1Qrqg17
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Y3kuVF

Thoughts from one of the smallest US citizens on Syrian Immigration.

I was just informed by my 6 yr old, yes my 6 yr old that our government is made up of complete idiots! When I asked her why, she told me in no uncertain terms that, here in the USA, we have people who are hungry and can’t afford food, we have people sleep on the streets outside because they don’t have a house, and people who wear clothes that are falling apart because they can’t get find a job to work and buy stuff and our government won’t help them and they have been here for a long time. But our government is bringing more people here that don’t belong here and giving them places to live and they all look happy. I asked her how she figured this out, she said she was watching the news this morning and it said that the government just said that it was ok for people who are running away to come here and that we would take care of them. She also said she has seen people on our travels locally that are begging for money for food. I told her she was very smart and observant. I asked what she thought the government should do, she was quiet for a few minutes and then said well mommy, they should make those people stay where they are, when people blew up New York we didn’t run to another country we stayed and we fixed things. I nodded ( she was right), then she said and they should make it a priority to give the people who have been here a long time a house to live in, food, some clothes, and a job. Even if the job is sharpening pencils. I believe my daughter might have a bigger brain than the politicians in office right now. And before you make a political comment this is not to stir the pot on any issue, I just thought I would put even our smallest citizen’s thoughts on the issues at hand out there. If a 6 yr old can figure out that we need to fix ourselves before we attempt to fix others well then I think the grown men in the White House should be able to do the same. Do I feel sorry for the Syrians you bet I do, but I also feel sorry for the veterans who are starving because they came back from the war and couldn’t find a job so they could keep a roof over their heads, food on their tables, and clothes on their backs. I also feel sorry for the single parents working 2-3 jobs to keeps their kids fed, barely making bills, and skipping meals just so their kids have. I also feel bad for the people living in the woods in a tent with their kids because they lost their home due to back taxes or mortgage issues. Our nation is missing the big picture we are taking away from our own to help others when we need to focus on what is right in front of us. Charity begins at home. Let’s start to help people in the US first!

An Author who gets that “Fifty Shades” and takes it to a level we don’t feel degraded on.

I know that just about every lady who isn’t blind has heard of, read, or even seen the movie based on the “fifty shades” story line…I ask you though with all the backlash about how the female character responds to her treatment from the lead male character ( I will not use the character names or give too much away incase you haven’t read it or you have been hiding in a hole or cave somewhere), did you feel like you didn’t quite understand the female main character’s train of thought as to what her true motives were?  Was love really enough?. So, now I ask you what if an author took the erotica genre and one upped it over that “Fifty” mark and went to a dark place. What if we gave this author’s characters our attention and our heart and he applied the heat, darkness, lust, and trust we were missing in that “Fifty” book trilogy. What if I were to say to you that this author is a Male who is a Christian. “Tell you more?”.. You got it! This author is Lucian Bane. He has written many books which teach us to cherish what we have in a relationship through a great many things. He has written many books that have taken me on a journey while reading that I won’t ever forget. His books go dark, deep, and keep us wanting more and more. They touch a part of us that sometimes we don’t like others to see, he approaches themes and topics that most writers avoid but he does it with such care that we come out the other side of the story line being thankful for our trip through the darkness and appreciating what we have in our own lives. If you are looking for your post “Fifty” and “You” series fix. I think you should try any of the following books by Lucian Bane. You can find these amazing books on Amazon.com and if you have Kindle Unlimited most are free. So please check him out and give yourself a huge reward by reading his newest book Desecrating Solomon. You can find his books here: http://www.amazon.com/Lucian-Bane/e/B00IZ23JN0/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1446909428&sr=1-2-ent

Enjoy and Happy Reading!

Lost in translation…and then some.

Have you ever felt so suffocated by life that you just want to run screaming from the room but you just can’t?  A few years ago I was diagnosed with anxiety.  I know it isn’t the worst thing in life to happen but when someone has a panic attack it is actually very scary, an anxiety attack for me in descriptive terms is frightening.  In the past year and a half I have been trying to do everything in my power to keep them to a minimum.  I meditate now, I have taken up yoga, I was prescribed Xanax and I do take them as well on occasion, I am not one of those mothers that depends on pills to make it through the day.  Let me explain what an attack feels like in my shoes because I feel like most people don’t get it and it kind of gets lost in translation.  I can sometimes feel the anxiety rising up and when I say that I mean, I can feel my body start to tense up and then my heart races, it honestly feels like it will beat so hard it will pound out of my chest or explode in my chest.  I feel like I am having an actual heart attack.  My throat goes dry, I get short of breath my chest then starts to hurt, it gets tight like someone is giving me a bear hug, the thoughts that start going through my mind is OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO DIE right here right now in front of my kids.  My body then starts to revolt against me I start to shake not like a seizure shake but a trembling then the sweating (profuse sweating) comes on and people start to take notice of me (that sometimes makes it worse). I will take a Xanax and it will sometimes take an hour to get back to a functioning state of mind and body for me, with 2 kids that is a long time.  Next comes the migraines, for days after a bad anxiety attack I will suffer from migraines.  Lately I have started to be more fearful of going out anywhere because I have learned that these attacks can present themselves anytime and anywhere and with children having an anxiety attack in the middle of a grocery store isn’t an ideal place because one I have to function and be the protector and responsible one, two I can’t take a time out in the middle of a store.  I forgot to mention that I don’t sleep much anymore, I can’t seem to turn my mind off.  I go over in my head the what if’s of anxiety attacks, what I could and would do if I had one while driving, while shopping with the kids, while in a public place, while on a bus, boat, plane, train, etc.  What happens if it happens and I am all alone, what if it isn’t anxiety and it IS a heart attack…this just seems to make me more stressed and lately sleep has been all but a distant memory.  I just want you to see what it is like, I know I lead a very hectic life.  But I see other moms with more than me on their plates and I think what is wrong with me?  Why can’t I be normal, why can’t I do this or that without the anxiety?  And then I see the other end of that spectrum the moms who are popping pills like they are water and doing nothing to reduce the stress but are at the zenith of the chemically induced quasi “everything is perfect mind set”.   I know deep down I just can’t ever do that to my children or husband.  I won’t ever do that.  So I just take it one day at a time.. yoga, meditation(when the kids allow me some time) and when the anxiety gets the best of me and I am drowning in that sea in my own personal hell I will cave and take a pill.  Living with anxiety is a nightmare and no one wakes up one day and says hey I want to suffer from things like migraines, I want to feel like I am having a heart attack while having one of the best days of my life, I want to feel helpless and weak…hell no they don’t but it is my reality and sometimes, I feel like everyone forgets that I go through this because no matter what is going on inside my body and head I keep a smile on my face and I try my best to plod through life with my head held high.  I don’t let down that wall of “I’m fine” because I am truly scared to death that if they look inside me they will too develop the anxiety that I carry.  There is no rhyme or reason as to when I will be attacked by an anxiety attack so all I can do is expect the worst, pray for the best and hope that what I deal with doesn’t get LOST IN TRANSLATION as me being a hermit, or unsociable.