What's In My Bucket

My younger daughter was talking about her bucket list the other night…she’s in her twenties and has a bucket list? I realized that I have never made one…I guess I’m more of a live-in-the-moment kinda girl but it got me to thinking that maybe I should. So I thought and thought. Then thought some more and finally came up with what you’ll see below…in no particular order of importance, of course.

1.       Get something published. I’d settle for getting anything published but I’d really like to have a novel done and sent off before I’m in my dotage. Right now I lack time, energy and motivation. But I will get there. Somehow. Some way. My lifelong dream.

2.       Sing on stage. I’ve done plenty of church performances but I’d really like to do it up big someday. The Voice? I really don’t think so. Too many pretty babies on that show where women my age don’t have much of a chance. Then I’d have so much trouble picking which coach I’d want when all four chairs turn around. America’s Got Talent? Too many weird acts for me to compete with. Not really strange enough…although there are those who would disagree. American Idol? Nah, the judges are mean and nasty. Mayhap I should stick with my church ditties. Although that really defeats the purpose of the bucket, doesn’t it?

3.       Take shooting lessons. I’d like to learn to shoot a gun with my eyes open. Right now I’m afraid of seeing the bullet come screaming out of the end of the weapon or sparks flying out of it into my face (yeah, I know this doesn’t really happen). Or maybe I just don’t want to see how far from the target I really am. But I could learn…

4.       Take ballroom dancing lessons. I can’t do that right now because I don’t have a willing partner. Elijah has offered but he’s a little on the short side and it’s awkward when we do lifts, dips and the like. I’ll put this aside for way in the future until he gets taller. They give these in the nursing homes, don’t they?

5.       Vacation in the Dominican Republic. My former boss goes there and he loves it. I think I could spend a week or two soaking up the sun, relaxing on the deck of my cottage on the beach. Who am I kidding? I’d be there two days before I’d be checking my work email, rearranging the furniture or reorganizing the cabinets. I can’t even take a sick day without being antsy. Weeks on vacation would drive me nuts. Another one for way in the future…perhaps when I’m too old to walk much and would have no choice but to sit on the deck.

6.       Travel to Ireland. The land of my ancestors (on my mother’s side). Now this is one I could sink my teeth into. I’ve always wanted to go and after seeing pictures one of my Twitter tweeps posted a while back, I’m determined to get there. All I need is money. I could travel the whole country, exploring, wandering, getting recipes for fish and chips. Ah, the beauty of it. Yeah, this is definitely one I’ll work towards. And put Scotland right behind it on the list.

7.       Be an extra in a movie. I’m definitely not leading role material so I’m being realistic here. But I’d love to be an extra. In a comedy. A really funny one. Starring Brad Pitt. No, George Clooney. No, not him either. Too cliché. Pierce Brosnan. Yeah, he’d do. Wait, does he do comedy? So I’d be in the background, mostly doing something hilarious. Or not hilarious. I just want to be there.

8.       Go on a mission trip. I’ve always wanted to. First, my parents thought I was too young. Then I was in college. Then I had babies. Always working after that, with vacation and sick days delegated to taking care of sick kids. But I could definitely take time off work for this. To give back. To help. Or teach. Or build. It really doesn’t matter what I do as long as I make a contribution.

That’s pretty much what I’ve come up with so far. They have always had these in the back of my mind, although some are closer to the front than others. I just never labeled them as belonging in a bucket. Here’s hoping I’ll get to do some of them. Maybe even all of them.

It's All About The Celebrity

It’s amazing how much you have to give up to be a celebrity.  Privacy, anonymity, the ability to go into a restaurant for an uninterrupted dinner. All because they have chosen to spend their lives entertaining us. Then there are the celebrities who have no reason being famous. They have no talent that I can see but news of what they do gets in the tabloids, on talk shows and all over the internet. What I want to know is why?

Case in point, Kim Kardashian. The woman’s major claim to fame is being wealthy, being married to Kanye West and the latest…her butt being the spectacle on the cover of a magazine. The media is all like she’s a mother now. She has no business baring it all for the public. How could she do that to her daughter? Who is surprised? She named her daughter North West, for crying out loud! In my opinion, showing her behind is nothing compared to that.

Anything that has to do with Kate and her eight, along with Jon…who is now bankrupt and nearly homeless…just annoys the crap out of me for some reason. Even without the weird hair, Kate is annoying. So she had sextuplets. I really don’t care. Having a lot of kids does not (or should not) make you a celebrity. It just makes you busier than the average family. Not news worthy.

Which brings me to the Duggars…I will apologize to my daughter in advance since she’s a fan. Sorry, Deanna. I had no issue with the Duggars until I heard Michelle say she would have more children AFTER having a preemie that nearly died and having a miscarriage as well. I’m not interested enough to know which came first but why risk having another child? Risking another miscarriage or, God forbid, losing her life leaving her other 19…egad…children without a mother? Very selfish. YOU HAVE 19 KIDS! That’s way more than enough! No, their morals don’t bother me. Nor does the way they live. But that does.

Lastly…Honey Boo Boo. Holy cow, the whole concept of that show just makes me nauseous. First of all, child beauty pageants should be considered abusive. Second, is this what television is coming to? The child is not talented or attractive. And finally, there’s Mama June. Mama June. One more time…Mama June. There really are no words to describe her. I thought at first that maybe it was just that it’s reality television, which I hate. But then I saw her in an interview on Entertainment Tonight (Don’t ask, I don’t know why I was watching it) and she was just indescribable in her ignorance. It’s obvious she has no pride in her appearance and limited education. Add to that, she clearly cares nothing for her kids. Please go home, lady, and invade my television no more.

Perhaps, as I said, it’s just the Reality TV issue but I don’t think so. I really believe that these people need to go back to wherever they came from. They are not celebrities. They don’t entertain. They do not belong on television. They are annoying, obnoxious in their sense of self-importance and they need to go away.

The Truth of the Matter

A friend called me recently to tell me that my ex-husband had posted some lies about me on one of his pages somewhere. When I refused to look it up, because basically I don’t care what it said, she emailed me the contents. My response was “So what? He’s delusional. I knew it when I was married to him.” She couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t even defend myself even though I have the resources to do so. In order to shut her up, I’m posting this. My rebuttal, if you will, to his defamation of my so-called character.

You can probably tell already that I really don’t take this seriously. I don’t want to know what website he posted it on, who would read what he posted or what is going on in his life. I’m not one of those people who stalks others on the internet. Not interested enough. To be honest, I am happy he’s getting on with his life. That means he won’t try to be in mine. What I don’t understand is why the post that he put up, which I’m told is supposed to be about who he is, is basically all about me. Whatever.

He (the ex-husband) says that I hate him because “it’s all his fault.” First and foremost, I hate no one. Even if they deserve it. Second, yes it was. Mostly.

He (the ex-husband) worked so much for us to have a good life. I tend to remember that I worked as well. I made pretty good money. And life was not so good. Because it’s not about money.

He (the ex-husband) came home from work one afternoon to an empty house and a note saying he was no longer loved. First and foremost, all I took was my personal belongings, my daughter’s personal belongings and my grandson’s stuff. I left in a Honda CRV, for crying out loud. Not too much would fit in there. The house was far from empty, as is inferred. The note didn’t say anything about love. It was actually quite tender and thought provoking. OK, not really but it didn’t say he was no longer loved.

He (the ex-husband) has spent the last three years searching for the pieces of his shattered heart and trying to find out what he did to deserve this. First of all, waaaaah. How melodramatic. Second, umm, maybe being drunk for quite a few years, along with vulgar and abusive…that may have had something to do with it. It's possible.

He (the ex-husband) is now in love with the most amazing, beautiful and obnoxious woman in the world. I can only say good for him. Woo. Hoo. Seriously, I am happy for him. And I promise not to look her up and tell her things I wish I had been told…

He (the ex-husband) had 16 years of lying, 16 years of pain and 16 years that I took from him. Really? Wow! That’s a lot of years.

He (the ex-husband) would like to thank me (the “x wife”, as he spells it) for showing him what love isn’t. Ok…your welcome?

He (the ex-husband) will rise up and change mistakes into gold. He (the ex-husband) will rise up and erase his mind of dark memories. I really don’t have anything to say about this one. Not because I’m at a loss for words or anything but because there simply are no words.

In conclusion (I’ve always wanted to do a post that I could use that phrase in, kinda like an attorney), I remember things a bit differently. But he always did see things from another point of view. He (the ex-husband), I think, should be thanking me from the bottom of his heart that I am no longer around. And I’m sure he is.

And that, my friend, is all I have to say in defense of my worthless self. The sweeping up of my shattered reputation. The drying of my bitter, angry tears…sob. My self-esteem, at an all time low, is starting to recover. I must now get back to more important things, like living my life.

Butter Me Up

A couple of months ago, I was reintroduced to my other “grandson”. He’s sweet, pretty well mannered (as opposed to my other guy) and he’s six years old. His name is Butters. Strange name for a little boy? Look at his picture and you’ll see that it’s not. Actually it is but don’t tell his momma I said that…

                                          

Having a grandcat is pretty much like having a human grandchild. With a few exceptions. I never had to change his diaper…only his litter box. I don’t know which is worse. I never have to feed him. Just dump it in a bowl and he’s good to go. Same with his water. He never cries himself to sleep or has to be told to stay in bed. He doesn’t talk back…well, not really. Ok, he does but all I have to do is hiss at him and he backs off.

Like a human child, I can buy him things. Kitty treats are always welcome. And he loves to play so I can buy him toys, although his favorite thing to play with is a hair tie. Or two. Which he will steal from you if you aren’t careful. Or a plastic bag (he’s not allowed to have those, of course). His favorite actual toy is his little red lobster, which he throws in the air and rubs his cheeks on. Sometimes he just hangs with the lobster…I think he forgets it’s there.

       

As with my human grandchild, Butters expects certain things. Mainly, he wants his evening Yaya time. Every night after Elijah is in bed, it is my time with him. We play with the hair ties, his mousy or…the lobster. And like my time with Elijah, I rarely come away unscathed. I don’t get football injuries or black eyes from wayward elbows. I get scratches and bites. He doesn’t mean to, really he doesn’t. He just gets overly excited.

Butters tends to be a bed hog. As I type this, he is laying in the middle of the bed. Sprawled out leaving little room for me except on the edge. When I mention that he leaves little room, I need to tell you that my guy weighs almost twenty pounds. Yes, he is a large baby.

                                 

He also has a bad attitude at times. No temper tantrums but you do know when he’s not happy with you. Because you get the butt…along with a disgruntled look now and then with tail twitches.

                                  

All in all, I’m quite happy with this addition to my household. It’s not all fun and games with Elijah thinking he’s a toy but I’ve missed having a kitty in my house and occasionally sleeping beside me. Most of all, I have to admit, I’m really happy that Butters brought his mom home to me.