Life in the Lowcountry

Why can’t I not feel sorry for myself? Because I don’t believe in double negatives.
October 10, 2010, 9:25 pm
Filed under: Life | Tags: , ,

I can’t feel sorry for myself because I’m loved.

I have friends who love and respect me.

My family supports me and I love them all, too.

But what of those people whose family shuns them? Should ignorance and hatred bar these people from love? NO! And I shout again with a voracious tenor voice, NO!

So if you ever find yourself with a  wrongful voice whispering in your ear that you are unworthy of love, that you are unworthy of anything but abject adulation…then you must turn yourself into the complete opposite and realize that you’re so worthy of this love that you’re going to kick the ever living shit out of the bastard trying to take it from you, and…wait a min. think i’m on to something else. Inspiration seems to have taken a track to retribution. FUCKING HELL.

Going to compose myself for a minute. Back after a brief bourbon. Or a brief Gin, as gin is easier to spell when one is completely into tequila. Love the Cuervo. Jose, you are a friend of mine.

Did I mention the time I met STEW? He was my one-eyed sailor friend. No? Remind me to tell you of him. It’s quite amusing. He actually liked me. Which is amusing. Not so much for STEW, (still not an anachronism for anything, it was his name.)

So this is my story, in not so many words. And nothing that my mother can burn in her misguided attempt at “saving me.” Because, I’m blogging, BIATCH! Can’t burn the internet! 🙂 Love ya, mom!

(BTW, my Dad’s a lawyer and this is his worst nightmare come true!)

Last thought. Hopefully not MY last thought, just the last one for the blog…Am having a birthday on Friday that is, for some, a milestone. I consider it another birthday which by any family account is NOT A BIG FUCKING DEAL. I fear that people will make this a BIG FUCKING DEAL and I won’t handle that well. Conversely, if my friends don’t pay special attention to me on Friday I will make it a BIG FUCKING DEAL. I’m a Libra that way. Regardless, I like this.  I like where I am in my life because I believe that I am where I should be. I truly believe that. Sorry, got sidetracked by Twitter. There are these hot guys that I’m following, and they may be tweeting me. STARS, tweeting me! Shit, I am special. And not because I heckle them! They really like me for me! 🙂

<disclaimer: I’m attempting wit, not delusion or insanity>



Delving into the past. It’s a process. Work with me.

She is transported to the past in order to bring you this blog…<insert Wayne’s World ™ deeeedledoooodleeeedeeeedeeeellloooodddoooodddllle here>.

It’s 1993, I’ve graduated, found a job, and basically fulfilled what I thought was my parent’s dream list of : “the things that you do after being educated.” I missed the part about getting married. Damn. One of many dreams that my parents had for me that have yet to come true, through no fault of their own. They just didn’t give the best impression of marriage. Dad’s version: “I married her, it’s FOR LIFE.” Mom’s version: “We got married, we made the family, I am a housewife, FUCK YOU. DON’T DO IT! Drinking is a much better way to deal with it. FOR LIFE.”

I’m being harsh. And snarky. FUCK YOU. I learned it somewhere. Nature vs. Nurture? Not just a theory.

Back to the story, It’s 1993 and I’m a year out of college, a year after or right as “The Real World” featuring Pedro, the AIDS guy who I totally fell in love with even though he was gay and had AIDS and by the end of the season died…”Spoiler Alert too late” he was the shit. I kid a lot but that guy had some heart and opened my eyes to the world. Brought me out of my hometown conservative homophobia to the “Real World”. And that’s what freaking reality TV should be, not this trumped up game of who’s going to screw whom ever else over like there is on TV today. (Or so I hear, I quit watching that stuff an hour ago.)

Again, I digress, but I do have a point, albeit a disturbing point, to make. Consider yourself warned. And intrigued. Although only you can consider yourself intrigued if you genuinely are intrigued, which, to beleaguer the point is something only  you can determine at this point by reading on. So to not further digress I will move on past this beleaguered point.

STEW. Not an acronym for anything, that was his name. He was the first AOL (acronym for America On Line) to seduce me online. He convinced the 20-something version of me to say dirty things to him.  I still have conversations we had saved on a disc somewhere but I cannot fathom how to get them off this freaking 3.5 floppy onto Word. I’m hopeless when it comes to computers. So back to the story, it was titillating, people! I tell you this IM chat was HOT! We did stuff I’m still proud of today. And probably was made mention in Penthouse forums simultaneously. I’m just sayin’ that I was young and horny.  And wanting to be talked about in Penthouse.

So Stew, that guy…he got me all hot and bothered while talking to him on IM. So I agreed to talk to him LIVE and IN PERSON! And he dug my voice. “OOOOOHHHHH what a sexy voice you have, can I stroke my cock to it? Can I make you feel good?” And I’m all like, “Um, stroke your cock all you like, you’re not going to make me feel good while you’re in New Jersey and I’m in California. Fucker.”  – He liked that. I was taken aback at the lack of seriousness. If you want a girl to feel good, FUCKING BE THERE to make her feel good. Don’t talk a game…So clearly Stew was out of the picture at this point. He walked the walk that he was walking… whatever that means. He was done for me. Stop it, I’m smart. Too much so, apparently.

Oh, but Stew story, meant to be something of a lesson. He was apparently some kind of movie previewer in the 90’s and had a thing for young chicks. And he wanted me to send him a pair of my unwashed underwear. GROSS!  So if you know the guy, call him out. Seriously, he sent me inappropriate videotapes, I repeat, “VIDEOTAPES”. He sent an impressionable girl “VIDEOS” which I can’t show ’cause they are on beta. But I digress. As I often do.

My favorite story that I don’t tell: Meeting with Stew. He’s such an enigma. He so totally “got” me that I find it hard to tell this saga. I don’t even think you can call it a “saga” without sounding “facetious” when  speaking of Stew.  Stew isn’t “Stew” in this anecdote, he was actually XXXX, but I don’t think it’s right to call people out when writing about them without their previous knowing of it so I’ll call XXXX, Stew. He’ll probably sue me later but fuck that, I got no money! I GOT NOTHING TO LOSE! And I never mean anything in mean spiritedness, Stew.

OK, done delving into the past. More recent past than my only reader knows about. Tom, want more? let me know. I can fill you in. Think this is entertaining? Please let me know. I am pandering here….

I am. II
June 16, 2008, 8:48 pm
Filed under: Birds and Bees, Life, Uncategorized | Tags:

I am willing to accept that I am wonderful. LOL!!

My previous post drew such rave reviews I decided to expand on the subject so here is “I am.” the sequel ~

I recently met a friend whom I hadn’t seen since we were in school together. Not just any school, junior high school, 9th grade to be exact. The background: She moved to Chicago and I stayed in North Cackalacky. She went to Northwestern University and I went to Elon College. She pledged Phi Mu and I pledged Phi Mu. We were sisters again. Flash forward ~ we write letters, send Christmas Cards, she invites me to her wedding and I’m a poor college graduate who can’t afford the airfare. We get email addresses and write once in a while and then lose touch for a year. Next thing I know she’s got two kids (both boys), the third boy is on the way and she’s overdue. It’s Saturday, September 9, 2001 when she emails me that she’s going to be induced on the very next Tuesday. I was so excited when I woke up at 6 am to go to work! My friend is going to have a baby today and I’m a part of this in some way…she thought enough of me to put aside the fact that we hadn’t seen each other in over 10 years to share this very special moment with me, knowing I’d be there in spirit for her. She’d sought my advice for years about the first two boys – asthma, traumas, allergies, etc. and it wasn’t advice, it was just support…just to know that someone who knows her is listening and someone has got her back! And then I get to work that Tuesday morning and get my cup of coffee and sit down in front of my computer to check email and Tom Melton walked in and said, “A plane just hit the World Trade Center. Have you heard about this???” I clicked on my internet connection and tuned to MSNBC to see what he was talking about. I think I even said, “Was it on purpose or an accident?” No one seemed to answer. As I was watching the second plane fly into the other tower I thought, ‘Oh my God, is she watching this while waiting to deliver this precious child?’ and the next thought was ‘What the fuck is going on?’ I panicked and ran to my boss’ office and said that I needed to go home. He said that was ok and I left. I turned on the tv at home and grabbed my cat and cried. I panicked again and couldn’t stand being at home so I went back to work in a state of shock. I just knew I needed to be around people. I needed to be around people who cared about me. I called my mom, dad, brother, friends in NYC and anyone I could think about and made sure they were ok. I don’t think the shock wore off for days. I was in North Carolina and I cannot imagine what my friends and family and complete strangers went through in New York and DC and Pennsylvania. I had no idea what shock and horror I could feel.

I need to edit that last diatribe, it kinda came out in stream of consciousness…forgive me faithful reader!

So I met this child last week and I was very much impressed with him. He now has a younger brother (yes, she’s got 4 sons) and all of them are so freaking great! The oldest is 10 going on 30. The next in line is 8 but he acts 14, the 7 year old is not quite 7 and he’s more reserved than the rest and the 3 year old is a force to be reckoned with! (He asked if they were going to see “Ashwee” because they were in the car for over half an hour and he missed me. “Can we go visit Ashwee again?” Even with a birth date that carries a heavy burden, this child is so happy and friendly and not in the least bit scarred! His parents have reared him and his siblings in such a way that they will always be the best that they can be! I’m proud to call them all, kids and parents, my friends!