One Bike & a Ball Short

Do optimists ever have days when they just say fuck it?  Or do they truly look at every situation, no matter how shit filled and say, "On the bright side, it's solid shit and therefore easier to clean up than diarrhea."

I can't help but ponder these sorts of things.  I've been feeling quite upbeat and positive lately but I keep hitting roadblocks and feel myself slip into the comfortable role of angry victim.  Thing is I'm tired of being an angry victim and the people or situations creating that opportunity for the angry victim to emerge?  Are not angry.  Or victimized.  Or even aware they are being assholes.

So why would I waste my energy on being angry and indignant when they're fucking sitting in la-la land thinking about what a great awesome better than whoever person they are.  The same goes for situations beyond ones control.

Some things though, are in my control and I do believe it's time to start acting on them.

For instance, 40 year old men ogling my 14 YEAR OLD daughter, are going to fucking start feeling victimized.  And angry. They will be angry I wrecked their bike when I hit them with my fucking Crossover SUV/minivan type of vehicle.  They will feel victimized when I've lopped off one of their balls and placed it every so gently in their mouths while repeatedly kicking them in what's left of their diseased pervert penis.

Seriously.  I've started noticing this more and more lately.  My daughter is a pretty girl.  When boys her age look, I notice, am not thrilled, but I am not stupid enough to think they aren't going to notice and that it's not normal behaviour.  But, if you are a 40 year old man, all "tatted up", tanned in a fashion to make Snooki jealous and have your greasy sick pedophile hair in a pony tail on the top of your head and you check her out once?  You are sick and fucked and I really wish I would've just given you a gentle nudge with my minivan on steroids.  But when you turn around to get a second look? 

If only I didn't have the bare minimum of normals and impulse control I could handle this in a fashion to make Tony Soprano or Jax Teller proud and carry on with my day.  And because I wish I was either affiliated with the mob (only in a fictional TV, Good Fellas sense) or some body's "old lady" (again, only in a SOA, again fictional sense), this is the way I will choose to handle any further over-aged leering at my daughter.

So anyway, while trying to find my positive inner self, I'm faced with obstacles such as the one mentioned above.

There are others as well.  Too numerous and ultimately personal to mention.  I am not one of those lucky bloggers who can write freely.  I need watch my P's and Q's for the greater good. Apparently my old job was not for the greater good. 

And I'm okay with that.

So I guess today's moral is, positivity is a state of mind.  Assholes are generally not aware they are assholes nor do they care.  And middle aged leering creeps?  Shall soon be one bike and a ball short.

Darn.

Back to square one.  It's been another 11 days since I last posted.  It's not that I don't think about posting or write little random bloggish snippets in my head whenever something amuses, angers, frightens, or excites me, but getting the words out of my head on a consistent basis continues to be a struggle.

As does eating healthy.  And exercising.  Forever and ever I've only been able to manage, at most, three things effectively at any given time.  At present this is my two jobs and my household.  Blogging and self care are steadily losing ground.

I'm nearly at the point where I need to give my belly a name, a constant faithful companion is she.  She has a newly discovered love of pop.  For those of you not from Saskatchewan or North Dakota, that's 'soda'.  I never used to like pop.  I could take it or leave it UNLESS it was mixed with my other best gal pal, Vodka.  Or, when I was dieting, I consumed copious amounts of diet pop in an effort to stop consuming copious amounts of cookies.  It worked, sometimes.

Now though, I prefer to have regular, fully sugared pop in addition to any number of other poor choices.  I get winded from going up the stairs.  My knee hurts.

I'm not Biggest Loser material yet but at 34, I feel like I really shouldn't have any physical ailments. 

So do something about it, right?

Right.

Some of the problem lies in the fact I am never truly motivated to lose weight unless I am 100% belittling and demeaning myself and my gluttonous ways and have a full hate on for my body.  That's not really fun but usually keeps me going.

Another problem is I am considerably more laid back than I was back when I was an employee of Hell.  When I was there, I was miserable all of the time and so it was pretty easy to also hate my body and enjoy the punishment of a spin class.  For those 55 minutes or so I didn't have to think about how much I hated my job, how underappreciated I and my co-workers were, how messed up the whole system is.  I just had to focus on the burning pain in my legs, trying not to fall off of my bike and breathing.

At present, when I think about a spin class and think about how uncomfortable it was and how my legs burned?  I think that I truly must belong on my couch watching Big Brother.  Then when I can't read a bedtime story to my children without the aid of an oxygen tank, because I had to go upstairs first, I think it may just be worth it.

Stay tuned.  Find out whether I succumb to the evils of exercise or the more comfortable, but equally evil life of a sedentary woman who eventually will be unable to shave her own legs without assistance thanks to growing girth and complete loss of core strength thereby necessitating bathing in my own filth while my husband shaves them for me.  Sexy, no?

No.

Darn.

The Church of Penny Lane

This morning I had two visitors at my door.  I wondered who the heck would be coming to our house this morning and using the front door, no less.  I peered out the window and immediately figured out who and also immediately wondered why.

Nonetheless, I opened the door.  I did not open the screen door but this did not stop the young man for launching into conversation.  Turns out, as luck would have it, he was here, with his friend Ken, to tell me about God.

yay.

So Buddy (I can't remember his name) proceeded to let me know there are 36 churches in Moose Jaw and asked what I think God thinks about this.

My reply: "I don't think He minds."

This did not sit well with Buddy and he started to read to me from his pamphlet some shit about one true God and how this one 'true' God probably isn't thrilled with Moose Jaw and their penchant for choosing their own ways to worship.  Those weren't exactly his words.

At this point, I politely, if somewhat coldly, shared I didn't want to waste anymore of his time and wished him a good day.

I don't even know if I believe in God but if there is a God, the one that I believe in doesn't care if you're Catholic, Lutheran, Buddhist or Mennonite.  The God I would choose to believe in only wants people to live a life where they try their best not to hurt others, not to cheat, lie or steal and to be nice.

The God I would choose to believe in does not want Buddy & Ken coming to my house on an otherwise pleasant Saturday morning telling me that He doesn't like people going to different churches to worship.  I'm not sure what denomination Buddy & Ken are.  Jehovah Witness maybe?  I'm not sure.  I don't know enough about them to tell.  It's a guess pure & simple.  I only know they aren't Mormon because they didn't say they were Elders or refer to themselves as 'Brother'.  I know a little more about our Mormon friends because my ex-husband took a super fun for all journey there for awhile.

To me, this sort of "God only wants one church" belief is akin to racism.  I'm pretty sure God doesn't promote that either. Come to think of it, I should've told Buddy & Ken that I needed to go because my (fill in the race blank) Lesbian lover was waiting for me upstairs for a session of Saturday morning lovemaking followed by a Ouija Board session.  I have a feeling Ken & Buddy do not support same sex marriage.  No confirmation, just an inkling.

So to end today's lesson in Penny Lane Religion:  I don't know if I believe in God.  I do know I believe in treating people equally and fairly.  I do know that I believe people deserve this equal and fair treatment no matter their age, sex, gender, race or sexual preference.  I think, if there is a God, he feels the same way and if he doesn't?

I'll carry on just the same.   I will speak openly against racism, sexism, and homophobes.  I will teach my children to do the same.  I will continue to respect those who choose to worship the God they believe in. 

And, I will not hope Ken and Buddy get stung by wasps today, eat a bad 7-11 burrito and get the runs without a bathroom in sight.