Bring It On

The thought started tickling the back of my head and just like when a nasty cold is approaching, it moved to my throat, which started to hurt when I swallowed.

I really do try to allow my thoughts, emotions and feelings to stick around if they so choose, because I now realize that they are like bubbles on water, always forming and then suddenly popping. As the saying in Cleveland goes, if you get sick of the weather, give it an hour.

Same concept.

My most dreaded month, August, is now upon us. Woo-hoo.

I’ll be 44 years old.

My dad will have been deceased for a whopping 32 years and I cannot remember his voice anymore.

It’ll be as hot as the devil’s armpit (August blows hot goat breath, just saying) and I have no AC, nor any damn money to purchase even a used one.

Well, no damn money for much of anything.

(Sorry, I like to complain sometimes about being poor, it helps me feel better for a spell.)


Gasp! Why wasn’t I born with a chocolate spoon in my mouth?

None of those things are fixable (unless I start stripping), so I do what we all do in life…I deal with it.

I also try to come up with new ways to make money by attempting to sell crappy craft ideas that I come up with (which never materialize because I’m afraid to lose my money on supplies), because after so many rejection emails about my writing, I don’t ever see that panning out for me.

There are billions of writers on the internet, you guys.

Oh yes, that’s right, the thought. Damn it, let me get back on track.

My bad.

Yes, I think that this is the first year that I have felt, coming closer to my birthday, really old. Even 40 was no skin off my Ashtabula. (Regional saying.)


I bet he’s never even been to Ohio, I’m too lazy to Google it.

Now before anyone calls me a “baby” in comparison because they are over 50, let me give you a few middle-aged woman trivia facts:

I remember talking to crushes and friends on rotary phones.

I know how to change a record player over to a 45 setting (with the little circle thingy) and still laugh because regular albums sound just like The Chipmunks on acid.

I played Pac-Man in my fucking living room, while wearing my Strawberry Shortcake pajamas. 

My family used a rubber Barbie arm as a volume knob on our old school remote-less TV.

I ate government cheese and I liked it!

I can get away with saying “back in the day.”

School started the first week of September, not the first week of August. What the fucking hell is up with that shit? 

I’ve had numerous Ogilvie home perms.

Most of the cars my family owned didn’t have seatbelts.


Hey, watch out for potholes, pops!

I’ve always separated my life into sections, like birth until the day that my dad died, my teen years until becoming a mother, leaving her dickhead abusive father, moving in with asshat, marrying asshat and that brings us to the here and now.

What comes next, at almost 44 years old?

I don’t know. I do know, however, that it doesn’t involve any blackhearted turds.

There is change everywhere. I feel sometimes as time itself is at a standstill. It’s almost like I am watching it unfold in front of me like a soap opera, up high from a cliff, exhilarated for the possibilities and frightened by all of the upcoming traumas.

Those suckers never end, do they?

I continue to carry on my person a heavy fatigue that lays upon my bones, etched into them by years of abuse.

Being alive is both a divinely beautiful, yet agonizingly painful experience.

I say bring it on.


Unpainted Tidbits


I attempted to repaint asshat constantly over the years. I’ve lost track of how many brushes and paint cans (semi-gloss) that I used.

Each time I hoped that it would be for the last time.

I realize my mistake now. You simply cannot repaint someone who has no heart or soul, who abuses someone they supposedly love and cherish for their own personal gain.

Here are a few tidbits about him that I’ve never shared before.

  • He couldn’t go 15 minutes without making some sort of sexual comment or innuendo.
  • He was obsessed with blow job videos.
  • He would wake me up early for what he liked to call “coffee and a blow job.” I played along for a while, but soon got tired, angry and sickened by it.
  • Although he never hit me, he did raise his hand towards me with an evil look on his face a few times.
  • Once, he lifted one of his guitars with the full intention of smacking me with it. Sadly, my daughter was a witness to this.
  • After my suicide attempt in July of 2015, he sent me a text that insinuated that perhaps suicide was a great idea.
  • While I sat in the ER with my mother, scared shitless, he was out screwing his whore.
  • When he would cook meals, half of them were too spicy for anyone else to eat besides himself. I believe that he did that on purpose, just to be a greedy, pig-like dickhead.
  • He harassed a young woman, which lasted about 3 months, all because she barely hit his back bumper (a car that broke down about a week after) while leaving a store. She didn’t have insurance. He wanted cash in exchange for not calling the cops on her. I finally got so disgusted by his manipulative behavior that I straight out told him to cut it the fuck out, grow up and leave the poor girl alone.

It’s coming up on a year since I initially found out about his cheating.

I plan on celebrating.

Lessons Learned


A true friend has two main jobs; to love and then protect you from the things that they know will cause you pain. If they can’t do these simple things for you, then they’re not really your friends.

Not everyone is born with empathy.

Learn the difference between a sincere apology and a passive aggressive one.

Once you truly love yourself for who you are, flaws, baggage and all, you’ll find a world filled with gratitude and possibilities.

The only way to grow as a person is to face your demons head on and allow yourself to run the gamut of natural human emotions, with the knowledge that you’ll come out stronger for it in the end.

We are all survivors of our traumas, not victims.

It’s never too late to rewire your brain.

As softhearted as you might be, don’t tolerate any kind of bullshit from anyone.

You have the right to decide who you want to be in your life or not. It’s called free will.

It’s fucking impossible to have an adult conversation with an idiot. Don’t waste your time or energy sparring with someone like that, just eat a cookie instead.

Try not to let the cruelty of the world harden your heart and make you afraid to love deeply and strongly.

Regardless of the old saying, sometimes you really do need to burn a few bridges.

I recommend Acme Dynamite.


Keeping your cool is one of the most powerful weapons that you can have in your arsenal.

Pick your battles wisely, because life isn’t meant to be spent constantly pissed off about something trivial.

Not everyone you meet in life is meant to stay forever. When you feel that the relationship is no longer healthy for you, try to accept it the best that you can and then move on.

Don’t give someone permission to judge your journey or try to knock you off of your mountain. Remember, you’ve worked your ass off to get up there and you deserve to see the view without any barriers.

If someone tries to trip you because you’re running gleefully away from your old ways, antiquated views and stagnant life, just laugh it off.

They fucking hate that.