Archive | December, 2013

Holidays on Social Media are Like Slideshows You Were Forced to Watch at Neighbor’s House in the 70’s

26 Dec

I am all out of sorts right now with writing.  I am truly blessed right now with so many opportunities, I’m doing so much professional writing, I get writers block for my own damn blog!  I’ve got big things coming up folks, stay tuned.  And yes, it is a bigger announcement than I’m just attending happy hour in a bit.  Which I know you all love.

In the spirit of the holidays, I would like to share with you the things I hate about the holidays on Social Media…

* Pictures of food.  I know some of you care, but I don’t give a fuck.  Unless you have cooked a T-Rex or something unusual.

transformer fish

 

(or this transformer crustacean)

* Don’t be a douche and show off expensive gifts.  No, I’m not jealous.  There are people that don’t have much.  People who would be elated to get a proper mattress or have their energy bill paid for Xmas.  People that could only give their kids some simple items from Target or WalMart.  I’m talking about… ok some friends of my kids and their Mothers lay out their goods like it’s a pirate’s booty.  Naming each “label”.  Just stop, you look douchie.

diamond benz

*  You don’t have to name every person at your gathering of 20.  We don’t know them, we don’t care.  Sorry.

Madigan clan 2008

(My family 5 years ago, see you don’t care)

*  Pictures of food is bad enough, but a complete written description is worse.  Again, that’s just me, I think some foodies like it… but again this is about me… like everything should be.  🙂

*  Announcing what time you got up on Christmas morning.  I’ve lived 48 years without knowing when other people got up… don’t care.

* Saying you got engaged… unoriginal.

engagement-ring-fail2

(P.S. get one that fits)

* Announcing you are using, reading, watching, or wearing a gift you just got at Christmas.  Good for you.  I hope you washed it first.

* Posting about how “giving is greater than receiving”.  If you really felt that way, you wouldn’t make a big deal about it and tell everyone.

* Saying you miss your dead relatives at the holidays.  Yea, I’m guilty of this.  My Mom just died last month… so shut the fuck up.

* Saying thank you to the troops that can’t be home for the holidays.  Like you give a shit, if you did you’d be enlisted too.

* Talking about how much boozin’ you’re doing at the holidays… if you didn’t invite me, I don’t care.

drinks well

* Preaching about the birth of Jesus being the true meaning of Christmas… well aren’t you holier than thou?  I get it, I go to Catholic Mass and celebrate Jesus and all that jazz… but it’s also about caring, loving, and giving.  If you are preaching, you better make sure you are more than a Chreaster Christian.  (Christmas & Easter)  And it’s also about making a fuss and being stressed if you want to… it’s your own damn house.

* Which brings me too… people posting about being stressed about all the extra mile they are doing… cookies, decorations, food, handmade crafts, doilies, whatever… like I said if you want to make a fuss, knock yourself out… but don’t be a martyr, you chose to do it.  No one held a gun to your head to make 20 tins of snickerdoodles for your co-workers.

Well, that’s all I care to bitch about right now.  I haven’t been so snarky in a while, gee it feels good.  It’s like soaking in Calgon… aaaahhhhh.  “Snarkgon take me away”.

Ok I feel better, now to go to the local gay pub and get my hag on.  I have to meet my girls… er boys… er ya’ know my 2nd family of other people that don’t fit into a lot of society’s norm like myself.  However, I do get upset when a lesbian gets all mad at me because I’m in there and I’m straight, like I’m somehow false advertising.  I say “honey, a gay man has to have his entourage”.  Since when can you only go to a bar if you want to get laid?  I didn’t think I was walking into the “Dating Game” or something.  Christ on ice and Mary in the penalty box…

Gotta’ run… ciao.

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Mating Ritual: Finding Your Foot Fetish Equal

12 Dec

What is love?

Yea, I don’t mean this as a sappy, philosophical, your ass is covered in syrup talk… wait what?

I mean like… ok, I do some fundraising and marketing work for a non-profit that helps women transition from domestic violence.  It also educates on prevention.  Not just for women how to avoid it, but for men not to do it.  And we don’t just deal in physical violence, there is all kinds of emotional abuse you can be subjected to, like…

Do you have a partner that insists they control all the money and withholds it from you when you don’t “behave” accordingly?

Do you have a partner that calls you names?

Do you have a partner that needs to know where you are all the time?

Do you have a partner that has slowly isolated you from all your family and friends because he/she says they are all stupid, lame, losers, etc.?

Do you have a partner that insists you have sex when you don’t want to because if you don’t you don’t love them?

Do you have a partner that makes it all about them?  Nothing is ever their fault?

Do you have a partner that blames you for everything that they do wrong?  “You made me get a speeding ticket, I was mad”  “You made me hit you”

So, there are those questions about living with an emotional batterer.  If you answered yes to any, I suggest you get help.  Ask me for resources if you don’t know.  ‘Cuz yea,, those actions aren’t cool.

But anyway, one of the things we discussed  when we were working on a program was asking each individual a question… “What does love mean to you?”

love is grand

Now… this is a kettle of fish of a different color.  You can get all kinds of responses.  And it’s ok.  Someone may think love is having someone that completes them.  (blech)  Oh sorry I said I wouldn’t judge.  Other ideas of love may be…

Someone who cares for me as  much as I care for them.

Someone who loves everything about me.

Someone who treats me like a princess/prince.

Someone who treats me just like my Mom/Dad did.

Someone who will tolerate my smoking weed all day.

Someone who wants to couple swap.

Someone who likes to hit the dog track as much as I do.

Someone who enjoys my foot fetish.

foot_fetish_cat_by_cheshiresworld-d36grg8

 

Love is a very individual thing.  And you know, that’s fine.  There are some people who I just don’t agree with their ideas… you know like the whole “treat me like my Mom”, um that’s not adult love, that’s Mommy/child love and not healthy and you have issues.  I also don’t agree with “treat me like a princess/prince”, once in a while is fine but 24/7 is selfish and narcissistic, and insinuates the other person is “lesser” than you.

HOWEVER, if the other person is ok with your view and chooses to live that way… who am I to judge?  But when someone is forcing you to accept their definition of love, when homie don’t play that, well then that’s abusive.   If you say you don’t want to do something or act a certain way and they brow beat you or physically force you to do it, then you have an abusive situation on your hands.

But I go back to my point… what is love?  Is love to you a mute girl, with no teeth, who can rest your beer can on her head?  That’s ok, just get the fuck off my blog!  No, no, Madge spreads the love here.  But no really, get the fuck out.

I have a lot of things I’d like to have in love.  Friendship, laughter, emotional intimacy, passion, good sex, learning and growing together.  Did I mention the sex part?  Oh, yea I did.  Hey, I’m not dead yet.  Anyway, my most important issue is equality.  Equality on  being a person level.  Like equal parts selflessness.  I don’t wash your car so I can hold it over your head, I wash it because I wanted to do something nice or I know your busy.  You don’t fix me dinner, so you can ask me endlessly for praise about it, or tell me 18 times later how much you have done for me.  Loving acts all come out in the wash to me.  I need someone who shares my belief that you don’t do nice things to get something in return… you just do it to be nice.

So, what does love mean to you?  Whatever it is… I mean like if two douchebags find each other, good for them, just make sure you’re happy and on the same page.  If you’re not, you might want to re-think that shiz…

Like a Bad Rash, Sometimes You Just Have to Wait ’til it Passes

5 Dec

Holy cow, I just realized my last post on here was November 14th.  Here it is December 5th.  Well, sorry but I had one of those “life interruption” things.  Let’s see that day (Nov. 14th) or the next day my Mother went into the hospital with pneumonia.  I hopped on a plane Saturday morning to Arizona from NY and arrived in the afternoon.  Sunday night my Mother passed away.  She was 87 years old and had been battling brain cancer since August.  She put up a valiant fight.  That was her, a feisty Irish broad.  Apple –> Tree.

So, I stayed out there for a while, had a service and all that.  Came home, had Thanksgiving… it’s a been a whirlwind of activity of which I have trudged through like a zombie.  It’s almost like I’ve been numb or it’s just been surreal.  What made it worse is we just lost my Dad last October, we weren’t even over that yet.  There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed.  There have been unexpected bouts of tears as I have passed my Mother’s favorite chocolate bar in the grocery store.  How silly is that?  But ya’ know we all have emotional triggers.

Something I never thought I’d say ever in my lifetime (yes, I know it’s a complete denial of reality but it’s how people roll sometimes)… “I don’t have any parents anymore”.  What the hell?

It makes me think though, I’m a grown ass woman saying that, and I’m devastated.  I can’t imagine a child losing a parent.  Oh my God, just breaks my heart.  Inconceivable.  God bless you to anyone who has been through it.

I keep telling myself that I’m lucky that I had them until they were 89 and 87 years old.  That’s a damn long time.  A wonderful, loving, entertaining long time.  I am very grateful.

But you know what’s funny?  I’m a GAW (again a grown ass woman) and I’m a parent of teens but my emotions have reverted to those of a 7 year old child.  As I mourn my parents’ passing, all the thoughts in my head are from my childhood.  Like automatically.  I have plenty of memories of them in my adulthood and them being grandparents to my kids but the immediate gut ones come from a closet way deep in the back warehouse of my heart labeled “childhood memories”.

I remember the visions, sounds, and smells of Mom in the kitchen, or reading on the couch, or watching TV with her eyes closed (swearing that she was still watching the program as we attempted to turn the channel) or as I was older her ironing a top for work as she was just in pants and a bra.  She’d probably kill me for that one, but that was my Mom, some stuff she just didn’t sweat.  When we (6 kids, 2 parents) were all trying to get through our daily functions and survive, Madelyn wasn’t a stickler about things, her motto was “Ya’ gotta’ do, what ya’ gotta’ do”.  That’s where I got it from.

Ya’ know what I just remembered though?  And this is funny… she of course didn’t care about traipsing through the house in various states of undress but it was absolutely essential that she put on lipstick before she got out of the car and went into an establishment.  Even if she was in yard clothes or exercise clothes.  Always the lady… except when she was in a hurry around the house.  lol  Oh Madelyn.

Well, I swore this wasn’t going to be a eulogy about my Mother, I just wanted to say how primitive our mind is sometimes.  Sometimes our emotions are very basic.  Children’s needs are basic – food, love, clothing (optional), shelter.  My primitive basic emotion of a child needing it’s Mother (and Father) has kicked in.  I try and tell myself “You’re an adult, you had them a long time, stop it.”  But that parent/child bond isn’t broken so easily.  I actually know someone who’s  Father is a convicted murderer, their head tells them he’s an evil man and has broken ties but the heart still yearns for a normal Daddy.  Those moments where Dad was nice for just a moment, and you wonder “What happened to that guy?  Couldn’t he be that guy all the time?”.  The heart has a mind of it’s own.  A child’s love is still there even when the child is 80 years old or the parent is evil.  Sometimes you have to sit with it until the hurt passes, the heart wants what the heart wants.

On a side note, my book “When Life Gives You Lemons… at Least You Won’t Get Scurvy!” will be FREE in Kindle Version this Friday and Saturday at Amazon.com.  Please download.  And hard copies make a great Christmas gift!

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