Quarantine Epiphany #1: Donald Trump, Cinderella & PMS

25 Jul

As I settle into quarantine, I’m beginning to find myself again.  I’ve never spent this much time at home without feeling guilty in the past. I’ve spent a great deal of time reflecting. Today, as I folded clothes, I decided to watch a movie to mute the constant Donald Trump and Covid 19 coverage on my social media.  I chose Cinderella.  The version that was made in 2015.   Pause.  I must add the disclaimer that “Ever After” is my favorite movie.  I thought that Cinderella 2015 was “Ever After” lite.  Unpause.  My favorite part of almost every Cinderella movie is when Cinderella walks into the ball in her gorgeous dress and everyone looks at her because she is so beautiful.  When that happened in this movie, I became emotional. By the time Cinderella and the Prince started dancing, I had to take deep breaths and consciously stop myself from crying.  I’m going to go ahead and admit right now that I might be PMSing, but it doesn’t negate my epiphany.  

In this version of Cinderella, the wicked, but very attractive stepmother locks Cinderella in the attic.  When the Prince’s men get to Cinderella’s house, they find that the shoes don’t fit anyone (because Cinderella is locked away with some rats) and just before they are about to leave, one of the King’s guards hears Cinderella’s melodious singing.  You can imagine how the rest goes.  Yada, Yada.  When the Prince rescues Cinderella, I got emotional again and by the time they walk out of the door together, I couldn’t hold back my tears.  I was happy for her, but the part that made me sob was when she turns toward her wicked, but attractive stepmother and says, “I forgive you”.  At that point, I’m done.  Tears.  Tears.

It was a cute movie, but not cry-worthy cute, so why (besides PMS) was I crying? I blame Donald Trump.  Hear me out.  First, I think movies like Cinderella set us (meaning women) back.  They set me back because I always wanted to be Cinderella(ish). Like Cinderella, I’m not super poor, but don’t come from money.  She was always kind to everyone no matter what they did to her.  I’m nice to everyone too.  She forgave her tormentor.  I forgive.  I cried when she got engaged to the prince because I was happy that someone good got something in return.  I like seeing good people get good things.   

This movie set me back because in my heart of hearts, I want to be pure of heart like Cinderella and I believe(d) (I’m still deciding) that I will get my happy ending, but then I see Donald Trump and his success is a glaring reminder that all of the lessons I learned about kindness and virtue being rewarded are lies.  It’s  more logical that people made up these kindness lessons as a way to make sure people stayed kind and accepted abuse while smiling so that they could continue achieving their goals without resistance.  

Hence, Mr. Trump.  His life is proof that the bad guy wins.  I’m absolutely not as critical of Trump as most people are, so I don’t mean the bad guy in the sense that he’s a diabolical reincarnate of pure evil.  He’s just not Cinderella or the noble prince. He was born rich.  He will die rich.  People try to put him down by saying he’s a millionaire instead of a billionaire.  It’s ridiculous.  They don’t hear themselves.  I heard a correspondent say that she didn’t like his confidence because he had no reason to be confident and had no accomplishments.  What?!  He’s the President of the United States.  That’s a huge accomplishment if you ask me.  He’s never waited tables.  He’s never worried about bills.  He doesn’t have any reason to doubt his abilities.  He doesn’t have any reason to believe negative things people say about him.  When people mistreat him or call him names, he doesn’t have any legitimate doubt about if they are right.  He just thinks, “they are jealous” or “they are foolish”. 

In stories, the president is the hero.  The hero has humility, strength and integrity.   The hero overcomes something. This is why we believe that the guy with super strength or the multi-millionaire can relate to us.  In the 2015 Cinderella movie, the Prince’s father died and he chose to marry a commoner over a princess.  I’m not buying that he fell in love that quickly, but you get what I mean. I don’t see what Trump has overcome. I’m sure he’s not the only president born with a silver spoon in his mouth without a story of adversity, but he’s the first president that we’ve been saturated with so fully in my lifetime.  The disconnect between the winner/hero/leader of my Cinderella story and our actual leader is obvious. There are no obstacles that don’t originate with shadiness.  There is no humility.  There is no integrity.  When I see his corruption, his inability to communicate and his arrogance, it confirms that the good people don’t really get the good things.  This ignites an inner cognitive battle within me.  In real life, Cinderella’s ass would have remained trapped in that attic while the Prince moved on with his life.  She would’ve escaped and moved to a city alone.  If her looks didn’t fade, she might have met someone, but she wouldn’t be a princess.   She’d think about what could have been if she hadn’t been thwarted by her evil, but attractive stepmother, who stole her house btw . . . but that’s another whole other issue. 

I’ve idolized kindness and sincerity so long that I don’t even know how to achieve things without those standards acting as my foundation.  How do you succeed with sincerity when the competition lies?  How do you achieve with kindness when the competition will beat your face in? I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t want to end up full of regret like real life Cinderella, so I guess I’ll have to figure it out.

Men Love Crazy Women: A scientific case study (#RelationshipRant2016)

1 Feb

Men love crazy women.  They just do. I don’t want to be single forever, so I’m trying to contemplate whether I should transform myself into a lunatic in order to snag a good man, or if I should remain patient and hope that I am able to attract the one man in a million, who doesn’t want me to be an insane in order to foster a relationship.

CASE STUDY:  Joe was pretty much everything I’ve wanted in a man.  He was smart, attractive, successfully working toward his goals, in shape and his freaking smile was amazeballs.  He always smelled so good and I’m not even going to go into writing about his smooth, brown skin. Sometimes while he talked, I would fantasize about licking him and tasting chocolate.  I know that’s weird, but I’m trying to do a whole honesty thing in 2016, so I’m just being truthful! The man looked delicious!  He had an MBA from a really good school and we talked about finance and macroeconomics, BUT (and this is what sold me on him) he didn’t talk down to me like my tiny woman brain wouldn’t be able to understand the complexity of numbers and advanced financial concepts.  In my experience, men have a tendency to “teach” when they have conversations, not Joe.  We had actual back and forth conversations where we talked to each other.  He didn’t try to “teach” me or improve me . . .  and he actually wanted to know who I was as a person.

In three months, we only went out about 4 times, but we always had fun and lots of laughs.  We didn’t get to know each other extremely well because all of a sudden Joe stopped returning my calls.  Well, my two calls.  I called him once, he texted back that he would call me later that week.  He never did.  Then, I called again later that week, left a message and he never responded.  The story should end here, but it doesn’t because it’s a case study.

About 7ish months later, I was doing some soul searching, so I decided to text Joe and find out why he stopped contacting me.  His initial response was, “Do you really want to know?” Of course, I did.  After I replied, “Yes”.  He said (and I’m paraphrasing because I refuse to get up to look at texts) to excuse his French, but that it didn’t seem like I “gave a fuck” and that he didn’t want to give any energy to the situation because I wasn’t interested in him.  Just typing that almost gave me an aneurysm.

My first instinct was to accept his reason because I know that I can’t control the way someone feels and I did for a while, but then my curiosity got the best of me, so I called him for further explanation.

Let me take a quick break from the case study to vent.  First of all, why is it when people are about to curse, they say “excuse my French?”  And he was texting, so it was equally unnecessary.  I decided to call this dude and have a conversation strictly for information purposes because it annoyed the CRAP out of me that he seriously just decided never to call me back without any explanation AND had I not texted him to ask, he would have never cared enough to let me know.  Ugh!  The last time we saw each other, I drove from Granada Hills to Newport Freaking Beach to see him.  How in the name of all that is holy would he think that I would drive that freaking far to see someone that I wasn’t interested in?!!!!!!  REALLY???!!!!!!!!!  AND unlike him, I have a $50 surcharge that I must pay in the form of a babysitter fee in order to leave my house, so I would not pay the freaking surcharge if I wasn’t interested in YOU! GRRRR!!!!   #EndVent

Let’s get back to the case study.  This is where I will prove unequivocally that men desire crazy women.  Remember, this conversation was just for informational purposes, so I didn’t go in on Joe like I wanted to and I’m sure that he wanted me to because he secretly desires a crazy chick, but I’ll let you know what I wanted to say, but didn’t say out loud because I refused to give him the “energy”, since we’re withholding energy.  Smh!  For the purposes of the case study, I will skip over the obligatory niceties, like how this dude had the audacity to ask me “What I’ve been up to?” I said, “Nothing much.  What about you?”, but I wanted to say, “Huh?  You don’t give two donkey shits what I’ve been up to or you would have called me!!!”  I’ll also skip over the sugar coating that he did to make his main points.  At the end of the day, I had to keep in mind that he’s not a bad guy.  He just wanted me to be a lunatic and I didn’t fulfill that fantasy for him.

The three main examples that he used to illustrate to me that I wasn’t interested in him were the following:

1)      At one point, he eluded to the fact that he was dating other people and I didn’t seem concerned.

I asked Joe, “What reaction did he want me to have?” He said he didn’t know, but that all I did was brush it off and that wasn’t the response he expected.

So, here’s the deal.  I assume that any man I meet is probably dealing with some other woman.  I am very clear about asking “Do you have a girlfriend and are you married?”  I asked Joe those questions.  He said “no”.  Beyond that,  there is no way that I’m silly enough to think that he’s not dealing with some other woman, but he’s clearly not that serious about her or he wouldn’t be calling me.   I figured (and I did tell him this) that when he was ready to be exclusive one of us would be phased out and truth be told one of us was phased out.  It just happened to be me, the UNCRAZY one!  When Joe eluded to the fact that he was seeing someone else, he wanted me to act crazy and be “concerned” after knowing him for less than two months.  I’m pretty sure we’d still be dating today if I would have cussed him out and told him to lose the other chick or he couldn’t talk to me.  I think that if I would have spit in his face or starting crying, I’d be gearing up for a June wedding.

2)  He rescheduled a Friday night date to a Sunday night date and I didn’t seem concerned.

This is the same situation as eluding to dating other people.  I’m not an idiot. I completely understood when he pushed me to Sunday that I was going to the less desirable date spot.  This was our second time going out, so I pretty much figured that since he changed from Friday to Sunday that he was most likely going out with his hook up chick on Friday night and saving me for Sunday because I was less of a sure thing.

During our conversation, Joe admitted that we had fun on Sunday, but that while we were together his mind was on what had happened Friday night and that I should have fought harder for the Friday night time slot.  He suggested that I adamantly demand that plans not be changed.  Now, I’m paraphrasing most of this conversation, but he actually said, “That’s what she did.”  He went on to say that he had already made plans with me, but that when she said that she wanted to go out Friday,  he knew that he would “catch hell”, he actually said “catch hell” if he didn’t accommodate her.

Now, let’s get back to men secretly desiring crazy women.   In what world does, “NO! I said Friday, so we have to do Friday” trump “Okay, let’s reschedule to meet your needs and I won’t have an attitude because of it”?   I’ll tell you what world.  It’s called “CRAZYVILLE” and it’s the hometown for the women that men love to call “the one”.

3)      I didn’t have sex with him. 

I’m not spending too much time on this one.  I really did like him.  I still do like the thought of him, not really the person after this conversation, but I’m not going to waste MY “energy” on someone who sees my kindness as detrimental and who I know secretly desires drama. Even if that someone has an amazing smile, a great education and abs that make my lady parts dance, I just can’t do it.

I listened as he told me that he felt like he never connected with me and that I seemed prudish to him.  I didn’t defend myself because there was no point, but I wanted to say, “Are you kidding me?!  I saw you four times and you had probably been freshly screwed 3 out of the 4 times, so don’t come over here trying to make me the problem because I didn’t jump into the sack with you when you’re the guy, who didn’t call me back!  You are not the last sexy, educated man on the earth and NEWSFLASH: I WON by NOT sleeping with you.  I don’t see why you think that you should have been allowed anywhere near the castle when you were still rolling around in the gutter! Bye Joe” UGH!

Even though Joe, the Jerk rolls off of the tongue very easily, I don’t want to characterize Joe this way because at the end of the day, he’s absolutely not a jerk.  He’s a pretty cool guy and I think he’s going to make some crazy dramatic, overly emotional chick very happy one day.  This is a single case study, but I literally could go on and on (and I might) with examples of seemingly good men, who clearly want to be with cray crays and then want to turn around and blame all women.  Nope. It’s you.  You like crazies.

Here is the part of the conversation that literally forced me to write this mini-novel, I asked Joe how he and the girl were doing.  He told me . . . wait for it . . . that they had gotten engaged, but he broke it off because she was too jealous and demanding, so now they are off and on.  She put a tracking app on his phone and then broke it when she found out that he took it off.  She also followed him to a work event in San Diego and got into it with one of his female co-workers.  This dude isn’t a cashier at McDonald’s.  He’s an executive!  There are so many things wrong with this relationship that I can’t begin to come to any conclusion, but that men desire crazy.  It also does not escape me that the woman who put a tracking device on her boyfriend’s phone got an engagement ring and I got . . . well, called prudish.  Oh, and they are STILL off and on! Ha!

I can’t conclude this scientific case study without some honorable mentions that I’ve dated through the years.  I’ve changed your names, but if you happen to recognize yourself in this list of honorable mentions, I’m not sorry.  You need to take some time and re-evaluate your secret desires.

Bobby

Bobby was a 50/50, maybe a 40/60.  Most guys are 50/50s.  A 50/50 is a guy who is generally attractive.  He doesn’t have looks that make you daydream about different positions while he’s talking, but he’s definitely a guy who you’d have no problem proudly introducing as your man.

I met Bobby to discuss a project with no intention of any sort of dating.  He made me laugh and told me funny stories, so he quickly rose from 50/50 to a 60/40, then he kissed me and 60/40 skyrocketed to 65/35.

Here’s one of the stories he told me:  He was dating this girl for about six weeks and he invited her on a weekend vacation. She said that she couldn’t go because she needed to work over the weekend to pay her rent.

I’m going to interrupt this story with a bit of logic.  It is really suspect that an adult would need to work over a weekend to get their rent paid, it’s possible, but I’m leaving out aspects of the story, so in this instance, it just doesn’t make sense.  The more logical conclusion is that little miss wanted Bobby to give her some money.  Bobby told me that “men” probably didn’t date me because I had a small child and that I didn’t have to flexibility to spontaneously pick up and leave the country without notice.  Guess what I can do Bobby? Pay my rent without begging from a dude I’ve only known for a month.

Okay, I digressed, so Bobby goes on the vacation without the chick and when he gets back, she comes over to give him some loving.  She goes into the bathroom, rummages through Bobby’s stuff, then finds out that he took another woman on the trip with him.  They argue.  She screams and cries.  Bobby goes on to get engaged to this woman.  They break it off eventually, but I could read between the lines enough to know that they were still hooking up occasionally.

Let’s examine: Bobby got engaged to a woman who asked him for rent money after only dating him a month and a half, searches through his things and then acts surprised to learn that she is crazy and jealous.  No, Bobby.  It’s not a surprise. You like crazy!

Bobby went on to set up dates with me on three different occasions and flake on each and every one.  I guess I didn’t bring the crazy hard enough.

As I sit here trying to select the other honorable mentions, I’m realizing that men actually do specifically ridiculous things to elicit crazy reactions from women and maybe I’m single because I don’t really have it in me anymore to be a raving lunatic.

Other Honorable Mentions

Dr. Dave – Doctor Dave was the first person I dated after I had my son.  I thought I hit the jackpot.  A doctor! Whoop! Whoop!  Well, one night Dr. Dave and I made plans.  In his defense, I was late, but I did tell him that if he wanted to reschedule, it would be okay with me.  He chose to hang out.  In my defense, I was getting my hair, nails and feet done, so I could be pretty for Dr. Dave.   After dinner, we’re supposed to go see a midnight show, but instead we end up back at his place.  We start kissing.  It’s about to go down.  His phone rings.  He looks at it and sends a text.  Then, he says that his friend’s car broke down and that he has to go help.  Really Dr. Dave?!  We were kissing!!!!  So, I leave, even though I can’t quite shake the feeling that this doesn’t make sense.  Dr. Dave texts me all night long and calls me all week.  Originally, I thought it was because he wanted to talk, but now I know it’s because he wanted me to unleash the cray.  I finally text Dr. Dave and tell him that I think we need to talk.  When we do, I ask him to tell me what he did after I left him that night.  He answers the question with a question and gets to stuttering and straight lying to my face.  After about 20 minutes of lying, he admits that he called someone else when I told him I would be late and that his plan was to leave me after dinner and hang out with her, but he didn’t think we’d end up back at his place.  At the time, I thought “how could a doctor be so dumb?” Now, I realize that he wasn’t dumb at all, he was just satisfying his primal urge to try to make me act like a crazy lunatic.  He failed.  I’ve never spoken to him again.

Edward Esquire – I really liked Eddie.  He was smart and funny.   He was a tad more cloud-shaped than I preferred, but I completely overlooked that because he was so dang witty.  We went on lunch dates mostly.  I thought he was accommodating my busy schedule.  NOT!  Later, I found out that Eddie had a live-in girlfriend.  When he told me why they still lived together, it was the first time I’d ever heard him mumble.   At the time, I thought he was a straight liar who had no respect for me or my time (like Bobby), but now I realize he was just trying get me a starring role in the crazy day parade.

I’m torn now.  I don’t know whether I should just go full out bat poop crazy with the next guy I date, who I’m really into or if I should stay reasonable.  I know how to be controlling, emotional and demanding.  I can slit someone’s tires when things don’t go my way or insist that a man be completely and unequivocally faithful to me and only me from the first minute we meet or risk me boiling his pet.  It seems much easier than having real conversations, living in reality or being considerate and compassionate.  On one hand, I think I should give the people what they want, but on the other hand, I’m not really about acting crazy anymore.  When I was in my original 20s, I could demonstrate crazy with the best of them, but now that I’m in my new 20s, I don’t really have it in me.  I want calm, considerate, honest fun with laughs and love and sweaty marathon sex, but no crazy.   What’s a girl to do?

In conclusion, men like crazy chicks.  My findings are conclusive and I see no solution to the epidemic.

Huh? It’s just “RHOA – Sorority Edition” Ya’ll know they be shooting black males & not going to jail right?

18 Dec

Okay, I get.  We don’t want our sorority to be seen in a negative light.  I can understand that, but I am astounded that the women of Pan-Hell actually had the power behind them to get advertisers to pull out from a show that would actually make money.  Let’s not kid ourselves.  The demographic that VH1 is trying to reach will watch the show and people like me, who had no intention of watching the show would probably watch a couple of episodes just to see what the hype is all about. So, basically the AKAs and Deltas have convinced advertisers to pull from a Network, not because people will not be watching the show, but because people will be watching and Big Brother, I mean, the sororities and the fraternities don’t like what people will see. Really?!

My problem with this is (and I hate this question, but) “Why now?!”  I care about how my sorority is portrayed, but I care about my race is portrayed more.  Bill O’Reilly got on television and said that he was surprised when he walked into a black restaurant and saw that the black people were not screaming and throwing food at each other.  Get HIS freaking show pulled Sorors!! These thoughts don’t come from his interaction with black people.  They come from the images of how black people (all black people, not just a pseudo-elite subclass) are portrayed.  It is bothersome to me that Pan-Hell had this much power, but chose to use it because our sororities were being portrayed negatively.  Our entire race is seen in a negative light in the media consistently.   I mean, deceptively edited media clips, manipulated statistics, completely false statements touted as indisputable facts, but we’re mad because the VH-1 chose some sorors with outrageous personalities to front their reality show?  Newsflash:  There are some AKAs and Deltas and Alphas and Kappas and Lord knows some Ques, who are a hot mess!  Don’t act like you don’t know them!

I plead with my Sorors, our little DST sisters and the other Pan-Hell crew to use the power for something more.  If indeed, ya’ll are able to get this show pulled because you don’t like what you see, please use that same power to create and pass a federal law mandating that special (outside) prosecutors be appointed anytime a peace officer is accused of crime.  I know this issue doesn’t directly affect any of the Pan-Hell brands, but facilitating action in this manner would make me, personally, less annoyed about being a member of an organization who gives two peeled potato sacks about what the people who watch VH-1 reality shows regularly think of us.  No offense to people who watch VH-1 reality shows, I’ve seen my share, but I don’t think if you rounded up the base viewers, they would be able to seriously affect the bottom-line of any sorority.

On a side note, I think it’s pretty ironic that some of the same people who say that Sony should not have backed down by pulling “The Interview”, vehemently feel that this sorority show should be pulled.  #FlawedLogic

Disclaimer: I have like four jobs and a child, so I have to be very selective in the television that I choose to watch, so I haven’t seen any clips of the show.  All of my knowledge of it comes from social media and on-line articles.

“The Chrissy Show”

14 Nov

It is very interesting how someone can do something in an attempt to belittle you, but their actions can give you positive insight into your own beliefs.  Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from a person of low moral character.  The e-mail was filled with things (mostly lies) written specifically in an effort to hurt my feelings.  That stood out to me because as an adult, I can’t really remember a time that another adult has done something to me specifically and intentionally to hurt my feelings.  Usually when people hurt your feelings as an adult, it is usually very unintentional and/or a misunderstanding in my experience.  Anyway, in this message, this person of low moral character told me that if I didn’t comply with his masochistic demands that I would be forced to continue living in “The Chrissy Show”.  Of course, he went on to request that I not share the e-mail with anyone else. SMH! Evil and darkness love to stay hidden away.  It was very clear from the tone of the e-mail that he meant “The Chrissy Show” as an insult, but the thing is I really like “The Chrissy Show”.  Actually, I LOVE “The Chrissy Show”.  It’s pretty awesome.  It’s my favorite!!!  What’s not to like about it?  It’s smart, funny, attractive, kind and it can “drop it low” in the club, well . . . scratch that last one, but it loves to boogie!  Intellectually, I understand that for some unexplainable reason people are not supposed to declare that they love themselves, but I’m going to just admit that I’m perplexed about why anyone else wouldn’t see how amazing “The Chrissy Show” is. (Yes, I’m going to end that sentence with a preposition because I can – I’m Chrissy and it’s my show!)  In fact, I’m going to make sure that my wonderful son Horace loves “The Horace Show”.  This morning, I realized that this person wrote this to me because he hates the fact that I love “The Chrissy Show” so much mostly because he’s disappointed in his own show.  Here’s my bottom line:  I am the only one who has to love “The Chrissy Show”, but the world would be such an amazing place if everyone loved “The (your name here) Show” because if you really, truly love and appreciate “The (your name here) Show”, then you would never have time to write long love letters about what you don’t like about “The (someone else’s name) Show.” Image
(Prepping for “The Chrissy Show”)

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(Prepping for “The Chrissy Show”)

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“Some people make me laugh.”

Big Brother is watching . . . so I shall dance for him!

11 Jun

The big news out of Washington this week is that the government has not only been listening into our phone calls, but also monitoring our e-mail accounts.  I guess I read too many conspiracy novels because I pretty much already had a hunch that this kind of things was occurring.  I thought it was more of a “keyword” thing though.  I supposed that if someone said “bomb” or “murder politician” too many times, the government had an alert that would begin monitoring calls.  I consider myself very liberal, but I just can’t seem to talk myself into caring about it.  I love Bernie Sanders and I’m usually on the same page with him about civil liberties, but not this time.  I just don’t care.  Not in the least.  I’m not going to modify the internet sites that I visit – even the unseemly ones, nor will I edit my phone conversations.  I have mixed feelings about the popular saying “He who has nothing to hide, hides nothing”.  I don’t agree.  I am an open book for the most part, but do I want everyone in the world to know my personal preferences and thoughts?  Hmmm . . . not really.  Yet, as I sit and think about it, it is the reason that I don’t want everyone to know my innermost thoughts that is troublesome to me.  It’s not that I’m ashamed of my thoughts.  Even my inappropriate thoughts are pretty justifiable in my opinion and my crazy thoughts, which I do have from time to time, are acceptable because I know they are crazy thoughts.  (I think the problem arises when a person has crazy thoughts, but doesn’t have the self introspection to recognize them as such, but that’s another blog post).

Anyway, the reason that I am hesitant about sharing my innermost personal thoughts is fear of judgment.  It took me a while to realize it, but now that I have, I have to take action.  My new year’s resolution for 2013 was to start a blog.  It’s June and I haven’t done a single post.  At first, I rationalized that it was because I was too busy.  I’m a single mom with two jobs and I’m working on my MBA.  I don’t really have time to sit and write a blog, do I?  But, I find time to watch my favorite shows every week and I found time to reply to long drawn out e-mails with long drawn out e-mails to a “certain someone” who was getting on my nerves and I find time to go on Facebook to comment on posts that interest me.  I’ve also found time to go on dates with men (Lawdy lawd!!! That is another blog post or 10 or 20) and I’ve found time to have blog battle extravaganzas on Youtube, WordPress and other sites.  I would intend to write one sentence and the next thing you know, I had a novel written.   So, since my motto for 2013 is to “Live in Truth”, I had to face the truth. It wasn’t the time factor that was stopping me from starting my blog.  When the “big brother” news came out of Washington and I noticed my complete apathy about the whole thing, I realized it was the “fear factor”!  Fear of judgment from other people.

This isn’t where the fear started, but this situation definitely confirmed it for me.  One of the first times that I got emotional and went on a Facebook rant, I posted that my child’s father was in arrears in his child support payments.  (Note: Currently, he has been good about paying his court-ordered amount and is diligently chipping away at the arrears.  I write that because he told me that if I wrote anything about him, he would sue me for libel.  Poor thing isn’t aware that truth is an affirmative defense to libel, but that’s another blog post.) During that rant, I put the actual amount that he owed me at that time on-line.  Posting that really did make me feel good.  Not for long though.  Although, I thought the tone was light, I guess the subject matter was too heavy.  I got about a dozen e-mails and some phone calls and texts telling me that I should not post my personal business on a public forum.  Some of the messages were from people who I could give two cow poops about, but others were from people that I loved and highly respected.  I told people that I didn’t care about what people knew about my personal life because someone knowing information about me wasn’t going to change the information, but it could help the situation or help someone else going through the same thing to know they weren’t alone. That’s what I told myself too, but I still didn’t start writing my blog.  I didn’t start it because in the back of my mind, I thought “Are they right?”  “Should I just keep my personal life to myself?”   Well, after careful consideration, I think they were 50% correct.  I am going to keep my personal life to myself . . . but, I’m going to keep it to myself on my own little blog . . . introducing . . . “Chrissy’s Pennies”!  So, if my personal life offends someone, they are welcomed to not read about it, they are equally welcomed to read and tell me how offensive my personal opinions and thoughts are to them and EVEN MORE welcome to post “Right on! Soul Sistah!”  if they agree or if they have been catapulted from the 1970s to 2013 and still say “Soul Sistah”.   Here is what I won’t do anymore:  I won’t be afraid to post my personal thoughts and feelings in long form on the internet for all to see because I’m afraid that someone, no matter how good intentioned he or she may be, will judge me or feel sorry for me.   I may decide not to write for other reasons, but never again because I’m afraid of judgment.  Life is too short and judgment is too vast.

The most intriguing thing about judgment in my personal experience is that it usually, not always, but usually comes from people who do absolutely nothing for me financially and provide no added positive value to my life.  I am sure that there are people who truly love me that do judge me, but they at least have the forethought to keep it to themselves and for that I’m thankful.  Another thing that I notice is that it usually comes during a moment of weakness.  It seems like those are the times when people come out of the woodwork to jump on the hypocrisy tree.  There is such a fine line between living in reality and being a negative Nancy that I think it’s difficult for people to recognize the difference between the two outlooks. I am not a negative Nancy, I am a genuinely happy person that has lived through very tumultuous experiences, some joyous, some sad, some exhilarating and some depressing.  I shouldn’t have to limit myself to only sharing the joyous and exhilarating experiences for fear that someone will call me “angry” or “bitter”.  Personally, I believe that God orchestrates all of my experiences, the good and the bad ones, the ones that cause me to smile and the one that cause me to rant, so I will use my blog to smile and rant as I see fit.   I have been called “self-focused” by a particularly unenlightened woman.  I was offended at first, but then I realized that I am a tad self-focused and I’m okay with that.

These are the thoughts that flooded to my mind as my television screen was flooded with images of the “whistle blower” who claims to have evidence that “Big Brother” is listening in on us.  I don’t care if “Big Brother” is listening in on my phone calls or searching through my internet pages.  If James Comey wants to know my thoughts, all his has to do is read this blog or he could just follow me on twitter because my twitter is connect to my Facebook.  I apologize to Martin Bashir and Bernie Sanders and my other liberal comrades who are outraged by this new information, but I’m ready to do more sharing, not less.

Here’s the deal:  I’m not infallible.  I don’t really take myself that seriously and my opinions may change, but I’m going to allow myself to have them and share them. I don’t want to force them upon anyone else, but I will share them honestly and truthfully the way I feel and I’ll do it for me – not anyone else.

I am a writer, so I shall write . . . and I hope you read . . . and comment. 🙂Image