If you can't say something nice, at least make it funny!
Thanks for visiting Tinfoil Magnolia, a blog about my life, times, marriage, friendships and all the strange things that happen to me and with me. I hope you find something here that will encourage you, inspire you or at the least entertain you. And if it doesn't today, check back tomorrow because, my life? honestly...
I used to blog about things I did or saw every day or people who made me laugh or shake my head. My life right now is just too complicated for my blog postings. Too much back story. However, on a happy note, my work right now is amazing inspiration for a book.
So my blogger-writer-tweeter-book of face-published-damn-author friend
Lance did a blog post about what kind of guy he is. I really enjoyed
reading it and thought it would be a great idea to use that as
inspiration for getting me back into regular blog posts. It's also an
amazing way to get to know people.
So here goes-a fascinating (though unsolicited) look into the real me:
I'm the kind of girl who should wear a warning sign. Specifically "Ensure coffee delivery before engaging in conversation." Or maybe something like "contents are not what they seem."
I am the kind of girl who believes that people owe one another a basic amount of respect. It's not to be earned, it's to be lost. That being said, I'm also the kind of girl who won't forgive easily when you've pissed on me.
I'm the kind of girl who believes that everyone on this earth should be equal. It's something that was instilled in me since my days as a little girl in church singing "Jesus loves me." As an adult who is non-religious (humanist/questioning/agnostic/atheist) I realize singing that song, and taking it to heart as I often do vs. things I heard and saw those adults in my church say or do in life....well, it is a prime example of the disconnect I felt while I was in religion.
I'm the kind of girl who shakes my head and/or roll my eyes at couples who say "we do everything together." That's just. not. right. And don't get me started about sharing an email or facebook page. That's not rooted in love, it's rooted in jealousy and control. Just sayin'.
I'm the kind of girl who believes in that overwhelming, explosive,
passionate, take-your-breath-away, all-consuming type of romantic
love.....but also knows that isn't the kind of love to last you a
lifetime. That kind of love? It's much deeper, constant, steady.
I'm the kind of girl who says things like "I will kick his (her) ass," while sitting at an opera or a play.
I'm the kind of girl who has always gotten along better, and been closer friends, with guys than girls. Bitches be crazy. Also, I'm apparently the kind of girl who says things like "bitches be crazy."
I'm the kind of girl who can't take a compliment, I feel sometimes like
people are making fun of me. i.e. "Your hair looks great!" me "What's
wrong with my hair?" or "I love that dress!" me: "Well, it's a little
tight on my hips." I know, it's messed up. I'm sure there's someone in
my grade-school years who instilled this belief and I'm pretty sure I
know what her name was.
I'm the kind of girl to whom integrity is utterly important. I like people who are what they say they are, who act what they speak, and who show the same person to everyone in their life. Because that is who I struggle to be every day. I am not nice all the time. I'm not nasty all the time. But anyone, anywhere can be on either side of me.
And by the way, I am the kind of girl who is opinionated, passionate, strong, determined, open minded, and honest about who I am. What kind of girl/guy are you?
Every time I look at my blog these days I do it with regret. I have ignored Tinfoil Magnolia for a long time now. Not purposely, but life gets busy.
When I first started blogging, there was a purpose. It was an outlet, a place for me to write and communicate and enjoy it. When I went to work full-time at the newspaper, writing became a part of my full time job and that became an outlet of sorts.
And then there's the matter of time and inspiration. More time at the job equals less time for creative writing. And less time equals inability to wait for that inspiration, which for me is important. I'm at my creative best in the mornings. Sundays, when I used to get up and blog and write 100 words, have now become the refuge for me to write feature stories or anything else work related that I can't do at the office.
It isn't that I don't have a use for my blog anymore. I have about a dozen posts that I've started and never finished in the past few months. I'm just struggling to make it work and struggling inside my own head. I start out writing with a purpose in mind. I get interrupted. I forget where I'm going and leave a half-finished post hanging until I "remember." Just like I've done right now. Too many clicks over to answer an email or a Facebook message and it flies right out of my head.
Anyway, the past couple weeks have not been great for me, but I have to admit. I am feeling incredibly grateful. For my life. For the people in it. For my beliefs (or lack of in some cases) that seem to always cross the mainstream. For those who accept me because or in spite of it and for those who reject me because of it.
For my lifes partner M who is always there for me no matter whether I deserve it or not. For having my best friend, (also M), with me every day. His respect, love, consent and forgiveness are all I need in my life. For not having to please anyone, but wanting him to be proud of me.
For new friends I've made over the past year who have made my life a lot better. While I don't surround myself only with those who are like me, it's amazing to have two ladies who can think as I think and tell me what they really feel. Who can show me a different side of life and how to cope. Who have been through (and are going through) things I never had to go through.
I am thankful for all of these things today. And more. In the past 60 days I made it through my tonsillectomy, mom through her bypass surgery. Husband's sister and mom are recovering from their surgeries. It's been 2 weeks since my boss was unceremoniously fired and I have made it through 2 editions of the paper (with help from others in the office) and hey. The paper went out. On time. Who would have thought?
Although I haven't pulled as much overtime as I would have thought, I am utterly stressed at the thought of what I'm doing right now, and the thought of screwing something up or doing something wrong. Half of me worries and the other half says "it is what it is" (my school friend Amanda will love me saying that) what gets done first is the important stuff and the other stuff will have to ride.
Still, I fight between feeling heartbroken for him (which gets less and less) and knowing that sometimes we make our own bed when we do things we shouldn't. I believe first and foremost in taking personal responsibility and owning your actions by accepting consequences. So that makes it hard.
I also fight with anger that his actions have resulted in the rest of us having work piled on as a result. And the way all of this likely affects his family and kids. And the anger of how easily things can be swept under the rug in a small town. Actually, shock for that last one.
So needless to say, I am out on the edge right now. If ever I need an outlet it is now. I'm tired of being nice and smiling and I'm tired of feeling guilty when I am cross with people who waste my time. I am tired of being told by christians that I need church to be good when sometimes I (the atheist) am the only one who is practicing appropriate behavior.
I am tired of listening to small minded people and their small minded theories. I am tired of the straight white American male having all the power, and I am tired of everyone else just handing it over. I am tired of women handing over decisions on our bodies and health issues and our reproductive health to the government while simultaneously being outraged that they won't be able to carry an assault rifle. I mean W. T. F. is that all about????? I am tired of gun nuts, wing nuts, religious nuts, misogynists and good ole boys.
And if you read this and say these don't exist, you're in denial or you're on that list.
So, I'm grateful. I'm tired. I'm angry. But I'm thankful. And I think I have a right to feel all of these things.