Monday’s Stance

Monday’s Stance

Fabulous With Glitches

Have you ever heard the phrase “you wear your emotions on your sleeve”? I’ve noticed at my office a lot of the women seem to be wearing emotions like the latest Michael Kors handbags.

Just recently a female co-worker was hurt that I didn’t make eye contact with her when she was speaking to me. In my defense I was concentrating on schematics and working on a quote while she was telling me about her menstrual cycle and personal drama. I was listening and nodding politely while looking up part numbers. Later that day I read her Facebook rant about how people should be considerate and look at someone when they’re having a conversation. Maybe she wasn’t referring to me you’re thinking? Um, yeah, she was. The next day I mentioned how I saw her facebook status and how if she was referring to me I wanted to apologize. Instead…

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Opposites

How many of you are the complete opposite to some of your immediate family members? There are differences, maybe of opinions, values, or just downright don’t like them possibly? But, we’re family. We’re there for each other no matter if we like them or not. Sure, you can be estranged from them but most of us ride or die for our family. It’s our nature. We run as a pack. We all have some dysfunctional members though don’t we? There’s just something a bit off?

I have a few in my inner circle….

A cousin, we’ll call her the Crazy K. She shows up at family functions smiling, sweet, and caring. She brings a casserole and flowers and even quotes bible scriptures. But, she’s a con-artist. She’ll slip into your purse while you’re having a conversation and take your cash. She’s taken credit cards and she’s been caught on camera before at a Target with one of my other cousins card. She’ll also raid the medicine cabinet of any prescription pills you might have. We’ve all contributed to her rehab and getting help financially too. We know her well enough now to put aspirin in the pill bottles that she takes from us. It’s a set up. We love her unconditionally and if she calls and needs rehab, we’ll all help her out. She’s family.

My beautiful, sweet and loving Mom. She’s my best friend. She’s my absolute everything. She was in labor with me over 20 hours and wiped my snotty nose, changed my diaper, let me move home anytime I needed to after a bad break up. Here’s the kicker though. She doesn’t truly know me. She’s extremely religious and conservative. I talk to her once a week on  Sunday evenings on the phone. Well, basically she talks to me. I don’t get a word in. She does all of the talking. It’s usually a 2 hour conversation. She condemns people that cuss, drink, etc. Sinners are the devil. Although she’s not perfect either, she judges. If she knew I said fuck as much as I do she would think the devil had taken over my body. To her, I’m still the sweet white haired, blue eyed little girl that plays with dolls. She would be highly disappointed in me and completely embarrassed if she ever read my blog. Thus, why I am here on WP under an alias. I cannot take the chance of her finding me. She’s quite savvy on FB, Twitter, any social media. So, I’m in the WP protection plan here. Ha. She’s family.

My Dad, you’ve possibly read a post or two about my “Daddy Issues”….Well, he wasn’t around a lot growing up. When he was around he worked a lot and could be a mean mother fucker. He was a hunter and would shoot anything. From deer, wild hog, dogs, cats, anything just for the fun of it. He cut myself and my brother down to size many times because we weren’t as mean or as tough as he was. We didn’t live up to his standards because we didn’t like country music, camping or hunting. Two days later he’d tell you how much he loved you and offer you a hug. I swear I think he was or is bipolar. Too bad he doesn’t realize it or didn’t when we were kids so we could’ve had a better childhood. He calls every three months and will talk about his latest kill, about how much money he’s made, what he’s cooking for dinner, how much sex he’s having, etc. It’s all about him. Or he’s watched the Hallmark channel and something reminded him of me and starts crying telling me how much he loves me. I listen and tell him I love him too. I try to be the good daughter and just be there for him. He’s family.

My parents are divorced. They’re like night and day in comparison to each other. Mom being sweet, religious and conservative and Dad telling me about his sex life and cussing quite a bit. The difference in my parents is that I listen to them when they don’t listen to me. They don’t know me. You see, I’ve found myself, but they’ve never found me. And I’m OK with that. In all honesty, I can count only four people that KNOW me personally. They’re pretty fucking special to say the least. I married one of them. I’m not lovable or even likable sometimes but they get me and love me anyways.

And then, there you are. My beautiful followers that I cherish so so much. You allow me to be me by pouring this shit out onto this blog. Although you don’t see me physically and we don’t meet for coffee or dinner, you know me. You’re my diary of sorts, my sounding board. As always, I adore you and thank you for reading, commenting, sharing pieces of you with me.

I know you’re thinking “Why this deep shit today Lennon?” You can thank one of my four people that truly know me, Rhonnie. She encouraged me to write this. She inspires me and is my long legged muse. Keeping me grounded and encouraging me constantly. Most of all, she keeps me laughing.

Hoping each of you have a Rhonnie in your life. We all need a Rhonnie, that’s for sure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Single Days Part II

Twenty eight years old, it was 9:00  on a Friday night. I was in bed with fleece pajamas, my blonde hair in long braided pigtails, eating ice cream with my dog watching the first season of Sex In The City on DVD. My phone rings…..”Hello?” My friend Jenny is on the other line “Why are you at home? I told you to meet us here at the bar at 9:00!!!” Me: “Whatever Jenny, I don’t feel like getting dressed up and shit and hanging out at a bar. I’m watching SITC and eating ice cream and in bed, come over and watch it with me.” Jenny: “Are you insane, you need a life, get up here, I need a DD anyways and you promised.” Me: “Alright, Fine! I’m only coming up there because you’re drinking and need a driver.”

I cut off the TV , throw on my jeans, shoes, flannel shirt and my baseball cap over my long braids and noticed I had no make up on. So I did manage to put a little blush on my cheeks and some lip gloss. Off I went to the bar about 10 minutes from my place.

I park and get to the door and the “gate keeper” asks to see my ID. Maybe tonight won’t be too bad seeing as I just got carded and I’m 28. I go straight to the far right corner where my crew always hangs out and immediately I smile. There are my five girls looking fabulous. They were the best looking chic’s in there for sure. Two brunette’s, two blondes and one red head. They were all in their high heels, skirts, dresses, lip gloss, glitter bronzer on their chests and cheeks and drinking their cosmo’s when I approached.

As I get closer the smiles slowly fade away and they look like they smell something foul. I’m looking behind me to see what they’re looking at that must look so scary and I see nothing. I sit down and Jenny says “What the fuck Lennon? Why are you dressed like a truck driver? Jesus, you have all of those amazing clothes and you choose to wear this?”

Yeah, I’m that girl that has always had the I don’t care attitude. As I laugh at Jenny’s comment and snap back “You’re the one who begged me to come out, so here I am. Too bad you don’t find me attractive because $20 says I walk away with more digits than any of you tonight.” So, that night at the club although I dressed like a truck driver, I put my dancing skills to the test and laid my charming as fuck personality on as thick as I could and of course I walked away with an extra $20 and a few digits that I’d never call. That’s not the only thing I walked away with…..

The girls all piled into my SUV along with some dude that Jenny had been making out with in the corner of the bar. The ride home turned out to be pretty disgusting as Jenny winded up puking in my car and the dude she had snagged wanted to get out immediately. We left him on a curb somewhere downtown and I got Jenny and the rest of the girls home safe and sound. Memories, fun memories with my girls. How I miss them. But, I don’t miss their drunk puking asses in my car, I can tell you that. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

Decaf Or Regular? Really?

decaf fuckers

Yesterday as I was ordering my Flat White in the drive thru at Starbucks the girl says to me way too loudly “Is that a decaf or regular?” In my mind, “Bitch please, are you trippin’? Decaf? WTF????” I said “Regular please with a shot of espresso”. First of all it was 6:30 am and she roared like a lion through that speaker entirely way too loud. It made my heart jolt and then to ask me such a thing, obviously she doesn’t KNOW me and must be new. Don’t even play like that! Normally Kathy and Kim know my voice and call me by my name. I know, I know, I’m not a fucking princess or royalty but it was shocking and normally I don’t have to answer or talk that much that early in the morning. I just grumble and get my glorious liquid courage to help awaken the beast inside of me.

Is it really only Wednesday by the way??? I know I shouldn’t wish my life away but Monday and Tuesday were long ass stressful days. I’m ready for the weekend. I know, quit my bitching and whining and pull myself together right?

Ok, enough of my rambling here. Today’s song without a doubt for me is an oldie but goody for sure.

 

 

Good Thing You’re Pretty

Fabulous With Glitches

I hear this often. Perhaps four out of six bosses have mentioned this to me.

It’s not because I’m brainless, lazy or stupid but because of……Wanna take a guess? Yep, No filter. Or better yet, doing what I want and how I want to do it.

Why wait for permission when I can ask for forgiveness later. Patience is not my BFF.

Besides, I exceed my monthly goal every single month…What? What?

The majority of the time I’m just as shocked as they are when things come out of my mouth. Especially if they have me on speaker.

I don’t take offense to the comment “Good thing you’re pretty” because it’s actually probably saved my ass a few times.

Although some people might think this is downgrading or belittling me, I don’t.

I actually think it’s humorous because they’re allowing me to control the situation and they’re being outwitted by…

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Voguing

image

I don’t know why but this almost made me spit out my coffee this morning. Possibly because for a stint in the 90’s I suffered from a “personality disorder” where I thought I was Madonna. LOL I hit the club’s every night Voguing with my crew. Even won a few dancing contests. Fun memories!

Hope you loves have a great day! XOXO