Goodbye to 2 of my Role Models

It's been a while since I've posted.  I tend to use this as an outlet for what I'm feeling, and, lately, I've kept a lot of those feelings to myself.  But I feel a few new posts coming soon...

2012 was a pretty rough year for me.  I've posted about having to put my precious furbaby to sleep last March.  I also lost 2 grandparents, my mom's dad "Papaw Elmer" and the sperm-donor's mother "Mamaw MaryLee".  I don't process death like most people do.  I grieve on my own terms, and rarely do I cry.  Is that weird?  Maybe, but it's me.  I'm the "take-charge" one.  The "what do we need to do/who do we need to call" one.  Maybe it's my Type A personality.  But, in the past month, I've been having a rough time with these losses.

Papaw was the one who first spoiled me when I was born.  On this side of the family, I was the first grandchild (for 2 years), the first granddaughter (for 3 years), the first great-granddaughter.  Yep, rotten to a T!  He's the reason I love old tractors, he's the reason I'm stubborn as a mule and take crap from nobody.  He's the reason I only want my steaks marinated in Italian dressing.

Growing up the way I did, I held grudges for a while because he (and my grandmother) knew how my home life was and left me there to be the responsible one.  Maybe they were protecting their child.  Maybe they knew it'd shape my character into the woman I am.  Who knows.  But one of the biggest regrets that I have is that I let those years pass by, I was stubborn.  I made peace with that long before he died, but you never get time back.

He'd had health problems, being a lifelong smoker.  He had emphysema, he'd had pneumonia numerous times (and almost died more than once).  But he'd been better.  He passed peacefully in his sleep, very unexpectedly.  My grandmother found him on the morning of February 12, with a smile on his face.  But, I can't remember the last time I told him I loved him.  I can only hope that he passed knowing that he had a lot to do with how I am, and knowing that I loved him. We buried him on Valentine's Day, their favorite holiday.

This was Christmas a few years ago.  It was so strange not having him there for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year...Mamaw Bertha (his wife) is the only grandparent I have still living now.  I'm trying to do better about calling her once a week, they'd been together since they were teenagers.  And now, she's alone.  Thankfully my aunt is GREAT about checking on her, stopping daily to check on her, and my uncle lives stone-throw away.  But, at night, it's just her in the house that they built, alone.  That can't be easy, though she's doing better now.

Mamaw MaryLee was the everything.  When my parents divorced when I was 6, it was she and papaw that would drive 3 hours to get us every other weekend, and we spent summers with them.  There was a neighborhood full of kids.  We went outside and sun-up, and came back after sundown.  No one worried where we were.  It wasn't a big neighborhood full of large houses, but it was safe.  She didn't sleep with the doors locked until the past few years, the kind of neighborhood where you just didn't worry about things like that.  She cooked every night during the week, and would go out of her way to make sure me, Shannon, and Jennifer each had something on the table that we would eat. We were the house everyone came to - trampoline, swingset, basketball goal, slip-n-slide, my grandfather even built us a playhouse with electricity to "camp" in. (I think he might've just gotten tired of kids parading in and out of the house, ha!)

She'd been sick for awhile.  Papaw passed away in 2000 (I think), and I'd always said I needed him to go before her.  She's where my independent side comes from, she's the reason I have no filter between my brain and my mouth, the reason I'm so set in my ways.  (Yes, both sets of grandparents are like that, I didn't stand a chance!)  When I visited Christmas 2011, I knew that she wouldn't make it another year.  They'd found a hernia sitting on her stomach, and she wasn't eating because she already felt full.  My aunt moved in (after the doctor suggested a nursing home) and cooked, cleaned, and got her weight up some.  She started going downhill around June, and just kept getting worse.  I knew it was time.  Thankfully, I got to make a few visits before she passed, and I was there when she died.  Her last words were telling "the girls" (me and my sisters) that she loved us.  She gave up after that, and passed away about 12 hours later, in her home, August 13.

Shannon and I were sitting on the porch around 5:00am the day she passed, and one of her rose bushes had bloomed a single yellow rose, overnight.  Two days later, the day we buried her, it died.  She loved her flowers so much!  There wasn't much we got in trouble for at her house, but messing with her flower garden was at the top of the list!

 Papaw built this swing MANY moons ago!  It holds tons of special memories to me...

 Me, my sisters, and my cousins Tanya and Jamie at the old patio in the backyard.  Lots of playtime, watermelon eating, and conversations here!

 Us again on the steps of the front porch my papaw built years ago because he was scared to death we'd fall down the brick stairs that were originally there...

 This was our playhouse :)

Leaving her house on August 15 was very bittersweet.  This is the place that contains so many of my happy childhood memories, and I know I'll never be there again...I had my first love in this neighborhood, experienced my first heartache, had more than a lifetime worth of laughs and love, learned to drive, to climb a tree, ride a bike...it's like I closed a chapter on my childhood with her passing.

Her birthday was January 31, and it really hit me.  I couldn't call her to tell her Happy Birthday.  I couldn't hear the excitement in her voice when she heard my voice on the other end of the phone.  I couldn't hear the tears of joy when she thanked me for remembering her.

My point with all this rambling is this, tell those you love how much they mean to you every chance you get.  Cherish every moment you get to spend with those you love.  You never know when the last time you see or speak to them will really be your last time.

Why so negative???

Are people really so much more negative lately, or am I just finally realizing it? 

I'm in a mood lately - in a "I'm fed up with people" mood.  I just don't get people.  I don't get where all the negativity and discontent comes from.  Why do people post such negative things on Facebook and Twitter?  (No, I'm not saying I haven't been guilty of it, because I have).  Talk TO the people that you're upset with, not ABOUT them.  Why be passive-aggressive with your anger?  Is it for attention, does it really make you feel better?  Nope...you need to address those issues with the people who have wronged you.  Otherwise it's just gossip, and this town thrives on drama and gossip.

Far too often as adults we still react to adverse situations in our lives with very childish behaviors hurting our friends, family and reputation along the way. Why do we do this? We know better! We teach our children not to do or say the things that we ourselves continue to say and do, allowing us to become cynical, rude, critical, unforgiving, selfish and so on. As adults we're supposed to act, instead of react, to life's ups and downs. Supposedly using the "wisdom" that we've accumulated throughout our experiences of many years. Anyone can grow older. That doesn't take any ability at all. That happens naturally. But growing up…now that's a different story. Some of us never "mellow with age." Some of us go from bad to worse, and there's nothing worse than an "immature adult."

How do we let ourselves get to this point in the first place? What makes us become so unyielding, and narrow minded, way into our advanced years? What has prevented us from learning life's lessons which should have been learned years before?  Perhaps over the course of time we have become so focused on ourselves, and our wants and needs, that if every remark isn't geared towards our happiness, we get upset. We've become accustomed to overlooking our own faults, and seeing through magnified glasses at the faults of others. We've become convinced that we are the good guys, and that our ideas and ways of thinking are right. No questions asked.

After years of viewing life from our "me, me, me" perspective, other disturbing factors occur. We lose track of damage that we've inflicted on others, and blow out of proportion unintentional slights we feel we've received. Our viewpoint becomes greatly distorted. We lose our humility and acquire a one-track line of thinking.  "They're wrong! I'm right! Come around to my way of thinking and then everything will be fine. I didn't do anything to you! You did this to me!" Isolating long time treasured friends over bits and pieces of trivial, perceived, wounds of the heart. Holding on to personal slights and grudges like gold. Validated or not, they become necessary ingredients for the emotional recipes we cook up in our heads - stewing and stewing, at hotter and hotter temperatures, until our pot boils over and all spill out, burning everyone in its path.

Why do people dislike people that they don't even know?  Why do we go on people's reputations instead of trying to get to know people before forming opinions.  Sadly, I can name ten people easily who despise the fact that I even breathe.  Even sadder is that they don't know me.  Sure, they've seen me around, I'm sure my reputation precedes me (hell, this is Meridian, even grandma's have reputations here).  But what they don't know is that I'm not the whore, the 'homewrecker' that everyone thinks I am.  Yes, I'm a guys' girl - I'd rather be at the dirt track than shopping any day of the week.  Nope, I haven't worn makeup since around 9th grade, and have no plans to start.  And no, I'm not sleeping with your husband/boyfriend/baby daddy.  I actually had a guy friend of mine tell me that his ex (who's wanting to get back with him) told him that, if they were to ever work out, I'd have to 'cease to exist in his life.'  Really?!?!?!  This girl has seen me ONCE, for maybe five minutes, and I'm that threatening to her.  I'm amused.  Why does this town thrive on drama and negativity? I've never seen anything like it in my life. I could list story after story, but then you wouldn't know whether to believe me or think I was spreading the same kind of negative seed that I'm posting about.

I can be the best friend anyone has ever had, and I've got a few close friends that can attest to that.  I'm actually one of the most caring, protective, do anything to help you people in this world, honest.

One point to my rambling post is this.  Just because you've heard a million bad things about someone, get to know that person before forming your opinions and certainly before spreading the lies and gossip that you've heard.  I've become a negative person because of this town, because of my job.  And I'm not doing it anymore.  I'm tired of being negative, I'm tired of not being me.  I just wish everyone else felt the same way.  I'm removing negative people from my life, slowly, and with kid gloves.  I'm starting to learn that, if you surround yourself with positive people who lift you up, your mood and attitude will follow suit.  Everyone has a story to tell, everyone has a past.  But, don't judge people by their pasts, they don't live there anymore...

We as adults have lost our ability to reason with the heart instead of the head. We forget along the way, friends we've had for years wouldn't be there in the first place, if they didn't like us. We've learned to concentrate more on the negative than the positive - never stopping to consider that few people wake up and plan to go about their day hurting our feelings. It's seldom on anyone's "things-to-do-today" list. Yet, we let pride get in the way of reason. Our hearts become hardened to forgiveness. We think we've earned the right to be rude because of what we've been through in life. How can we learn to once again act like the adults that we are? We can start by remembering what we were taught as children in Sunday school - "turn the other cheek, forgive others, love unconditionally, and do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Oh, and 'IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING NICE TO SAY, JUST DON'T SAY ANYTHING, AND DON'T POST IT ON FACEBOOK EITHER."  Relationships end, friendships fail, marriages end up in divorce.  That's life, it sucks but it happens.  What you don't realize is how many people read and take to heart what you post.  Many times there are children involved.  Yes, I understand the need to rally your firends around you when you're hurting.  But why not do that privately, via phone or text?  WHY does all your drama have to be posted online?  It doesn't make you look classy at all...quite the opposite actually.  Be the person that you'd want your kids/nieces/nephews/siblings to be.  Whether you realize it or not, someone somewhere uses you as their example, as their role model. Children should only be shown how to be better adults, from the best adults that we can be. Let's all try to remember the next time we feel a harsh word or an undeserved slight from someone, that we are setting examples for future generations by how we react. Let us remind ourselves to try to be the kind of seniors that we'd want our children to be: healthy, happy, peaceful adults - playful, but not childish - innocent, but not immature - helpful, but not hurtful, for the next generation truly starts with us.


 What kind of example will you set today?

Fake People

Hypocrite (n):
1. A person who professes beliefs and opinions that he or she does not hold in order to conceal his or her real feelings or motives.
2. a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, esp. one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.

“Better to be known as a sinner than a hypocrite.” - Proverb

“The only thing worse than a liar is a liar that's also a hypocrite!” - Tennessee Williams

I'd rather be loved for what I am than for what I'm not.  Sure, acting a certain way will probably make more people like you, but they don't really  like you, they like the person they think you are.  So you lie, and you continue to act the way your new friend likes you to act.  But is it really worth it living a lie?

I've been dealing with a lot of fake people in my life, a lot of fake friendships, and I've started cutting the cord.  Shame on you who only call when you need something or need someone to talk to.  Shame on you who only wanna talk about you and your life all the time.  I don't need you, and I certainly don't want you. 

How to Lose Fake Friends:

1. Start saying "no." Fake people will lose their use for you if you stop paying their bills, watching their kids for free and running them around town.

2. Tell the truth. Fake people hate honesty. It's the lies that keep them feeling good about themselves and their lives. So share your true feelings about their actions and watch how they fade away.

3. Avoid the drama. Fake people enjoy others who get sucked into their drama. Cut conversations short that deal with your fake friend's usual complaints. You know, the ones they never plan to do anything about.

4. Focus your energies on your real friends. Fake people will hang around as long as you let them. So, don't. Cut back on their time and spend it with your real friends.

5. Build up your confidence. Fake people have a hard time attaching themselves to people who have good self-esteem. Why? Because people who feel good about themselves won't put up with them.


Walking away is so freeing at times...

Goodbye to my furbaby

Who knew that animals become such a part of our lives? 

December 6, 1997 I met my furbaby.  A friend bred her Dalmatian, and I got pick of the litter provided I help with all THIRTEEN puppies!  If you've never had to deal with 13 nursing puppies inside a single-wide trailer laundy room in December you're missing out! 

Paxton quickly became my child - I took him everywhere.







He's about 7 months in this picture. :)



Around Christmas 2011, curled up in my lap :)

 On March 16, 2012 I said goodbye to my first furbaby, my child, my protector, my best friend. It was time. He was old, he was going blind, and he was in the early stages of dementia. It got to the point where I was afraid of him, and that's when I knew that my friend was only there in body, his spirit was already gone.  I was blessed to be there when he took his first breath, and I was so glad to be able to be with him when he took his last.  (If you live in or near Lauderdale County, I HIGHLY recommend Tyson Pompelia at the Collinsville Vet Clinic.  He and his staff were SO amazing to me during all of this, and I will never use another vet as long as he's around!)    

The funny thing is that I never learned just how much I depended on him.  Robbie went on an overnight trip the week after I lost Paxton.  For the first time in 14 years, I was completely alone in my house.  It was the strangest feeling.  I wasn't exactly scared, but it was sorta uncomfortable just knowing that he wouldn't be there to bark to try to alert me/scare someone off/etc. should something happen. 

I know I'll have another dog - I love animals too much not to.  It'll be awhile though.  My heart just isn't ready to share that space just yet.

Mommy dearest...

So, I haven't posted in a really long time.  Oops, life kinda happens and apparently the blog suffers.  But, there's been a lot on my mind lately, so my blog might get updated more...maybe. This post isn't gonna be a happy one, and my thoughts will probably be all over the place.  BUT, it's my blog, started so I can vent so I'll post what I want. 

If you know me well, you'll know that I had a less than desirable childhood.  I haven't talked to my 'sperm donor' since I was about 12.  Don't know where he is, don't really care to.  My  mother, well, that's a whole other story, and the focus of this blog rant.  I don't know if she'll read this or not, nor do I care. It's more for me than for her anyway...She's been addicted to prescription drugs since I was about 13.  I raised her, and I raised my sisters.  I'm strong, opinionated, and a control freak because I had to be growing up. 

Dear 'mom',

It's really sad that not one happy childhood memory that I have involves either of my 'parents.'  Not one.  I've tried lately to think of one, any, but none come to mind.  My best childhood memories involve my sisters and/or my grandparents.  Not one involving you.  Wonder why that is?  Oh, wait, that's because you were always selfish and it was always about you, what you wanted, where Mr. Jimmy wanted to go, what he wanted to do.  Though, thank God he was around or we probably wouldn't have had money for food...

My summers were the best, at least part of them anyway.  The parts where we got to go to Grenada and I got to be a kid.  No, mamaw and papaw didn't have a lot of money, but we didn't need it.  We had friends, food, and love there.  We had a safe environment where we didn't worry about anything, nothing.  The only things we worried about was being home when it got dark or we'd be in trouble!  So, I guess something good did come from the man that you married and had kids with.  His parents are some of the best people I've ever known!

But let's focus on things that I've been remembering lately.

*I remember sitting at Red Hot watching the 'adults' at the round table trade pill bottles. 
*I remember your mom telling me that she knew what was going on, how she hated that we had to live like that, but that she was glad I was there because somebody had to be the adult, the strong one.  I WAS 14! 
*I remember you getting arrested, numerous times - forged prescriptions, forged checks.  Didn't matter, as long as you got what you wanted you were fine. 
*I remember getting off the bus wondering if the lights or water would be cut off today. 
*I remember my last shoulder surgery, when you took all my pain pills and I got grounded for not telling the doctor that I needed something stronger. 
*I remember spending Christmas Eve 1998 at your house with my sisters with NO heat, and you were high as a kite. 
*I remember the year you were so messed up that all you ate was sugar cookie dough, homemade though.  I couldn't make homemade sugar cookies now if my life depended on it I bet. 
*I remember your parents finally finding you and 'rescuing' you from an 80-something year old man's house, high, with bite marks all over your body as you had let him have his way with you for pills. 
*I remember learning to drive as we were 'doctor shopping' when you'd have 'migraines' and get your shots.  I was 14 when I remember that starting! 
*I remember feeling guilty for leaving for college at 18 because I didn't want Shannon and Jennifer to have to deal with all of that alone.  I still feel guilty for leaving them there. 
*I remember spending the night in jail for $2600 in bad checks that you had written on my account. 
*I remember like yesterday the shame and embarrassment I felt when my car got repo'd my first year of college.  You know, the years of my life that I worked through and paid for because you were too irresponsible to have a college fund or even plan for any of us?
*I remember Jennifer almost having her appendix removed for your attention-seeking and so you wouldn't have to go to work; you even told her how to walk into the ER so they'd believe her.  Uh, thanks to these things called x-rays, she's still walking around with her appendix at age 30.
*I remember Christmases were good.  You tried to buy our affection in one day to make up for the entire year.  While other kids got toys and clothes, we got stereos and tv's.  Funny thing about that though, I don't have many memories of a stereo or tv.  Those things don't really matter much in the end.  It took me a long time to realize that you were trying to buy our love to make up to us.  It doesn't work, FYI.

The worst thing that I recall was after one of the times you got arrested.  Jennifer was 18 and had had her tonsils taken out.  YOU told her they didn't give her anything for pain and to take liquid Tylenol.  Truth be told, they had prescribed her liquid Lortab which I found by YOUR bed that you were nightly mixing with orange juice.  You let your youngest child suffer in pain for your high.  What kind of person does that??

I remember you getting arrested several times, though I can't remember them all - guess I've blocked those out.  I remember the one where you got arrested at Winn Dixie on Highway 19 wearing nothing but your bathrobe for forged prescriptions.  I remember running to Hattiesburg one weekend to avoid you being arrested only to have it happen when we got back.  Think that one was for credit card fraud.  I remember the one close after Christmas 1998.  That was when me, Shannon, and Jennifer loaded up all of our Christmas presents and took them back because they were bought with bad checks.  I remember you calling collect, making us cry, making us feel guilty that you were in jail and somehow as teenagers and young adults we were supposed to have the money to come get you out.  I remember visiting you in jail, both through the glass and outside visits.  I remember you being selfishly mad at Jennifer because she was against her 2-year old son visiting you in jail. 

I remember when Jennifer lost McKenzie and you had the nerve to come up there & had to be handcuffed to her bed with a guard outside.  Do you REALLY think that was what was best for her?  Do you really think that's what she wanted?  Nope, you didn't think, you just knew you'd get attention and get out of the jail for a little while.  Little note, she was MORTIFIED!

Now, I'll give you a little credit, when you got out of Rankin County after  a year, you sobered up.  You had to.  You were on parole, or probation or whatever, and were subject to random drug tests.  You were clean almost TWO YEARS.  So, explain to me why, as soon as that time was up, you went right back to your old habits.  I get addiction.  But you were clean for two years.  Why did you go back?  That was a CHOICE.  You chose that.  And now, you're just as bad as you ever were.  You've lost two jobs in two years because you've chosen to be high and not go to work.  You're not sick.  If you had as many 'headaches' as you say you do, you'd have been diagnosed with multiple brain tumors by now.  If you threw up as much as you claim to, you'd be hospitalized with dehyrdration. 

And you know what kills me?  YOU'RE SMART!  You could do so much, but you don't.  I remember when you were working for Ideal Software and convinced them all that you had spinal cancer.  Of course, they wanted proof for sick leave.  So what'd you do?  You 'invented' a doctor, created letterhead, documentation, everything.  Can you imagine where you'd be if you'd use your smarts to further your career instead of your addiction?

So again, I ask why? Obviously your daughters weren't enough to keep you sober when we were growing up. You now have three grandchildren, you know, the ones you brag about all the time on Facebook for attention?  Zeke knows what's going on, he's been told.  Jennifer won't let you keep either of her children.  Karlee will grow up not knowing you.  How can you live with that? 

Jordan is SEVEN and knows what's going on.  She doesn't want anything to do with you.  She won't hug you, have you noticed?  She doesn't want to stay with you on the weekends...it's not because I'm more fun.  It's because my house is stable.  It's because I'm sober.  At 7, she shouldn't have to tell me that "Granna is always sleeping and acts funny" or that she usually now eats "Hershey kisses and marshmallows for meals at your house."  She shouldn't freak out when I have a headache and take Tylenol because she's scared I'll act like you.  She only wants to be around you when James is home because she knows he'll take care of her, and even that is getting worse.  She doesn't want to have anything to do with you, and you don't care enough to notice.

And please STOP with the attention stuff.  You do not need to be in Louisiana because Joe is in the hospital.  How're you planning on getting there with one vehicle and no gas money?  What're you planning on doing anyway?  You know Jennifer isn't going to let you keep the kids.  It's for attention so you can say "woe is me, look what I'm going through.'  But you're not going through that.  Jennifer doesn't need you.  We're grown, we're independent because we've had to be. 

Yes, Vicki and Michelle know about your habits too.  You think that we're telling them things, but, uh, it's pretty obvious, trust me.  I'm glad I wasn't there Thanksgiving.  I heard it's lovely.  They won't talk to you about it because they don't feel it's their place.  But, they've tried to talk to James.  You've got him fooled into believing you're actually sick.  Good for you.  I tried to warn him before y'all ever got married, but he chose not to listen.

Now, fast forward to today.  You're 54 years old.  You're in another rental house, no job.  You had to turn in one of your vehicles.  Apparently your gas has been turned off, your power is next. No stove (though I'm not sure why you don't just call your landlord about that).  BUT, you apparently have internet back since you've been on Facebook all last night and today; and you still have cable. Priorities, I understand.  You do realize at this point that it's time to swallow your pride and go work at McDonalds or something, right?  No one is too good for that.  In fact, I'd respect you more because at least you'd have a freaking job!  You do not get to guilt your children or your siblings because we won't help you pay your bills.  I no longer feel bad for you.  It's not my fault that I have my life together, and my bills are paid.  I spent my childhood taking care of you.  I'm done now.  It's time for you to be an adult and take responsibility for yourself now.  I'm not holding my breath.

No, this post was not to hurt you.  In fact, it was to help me.  There's things here that I need to say to you personally, but I probably won't.  Because, regardless of what people think about me, I have a huge heart and don't like to hurt people's feelings. 

American Heritage Dictionary defines 'mother' as: A female person who is pregnant with or gives birth to a child.  In that sense, I don't suppose anyone couldn't call you a mother.  However, it goes on to state that Mother can often apply to a woman other than the biological parent, especially if she fulfills the main social role in raising the child.   That role of your other two children was filled by me.  You're welcome.

Sincerely,
Your oldest child


****This post was NOT written for anyone to feel sorry for me.  Because of the way I grew up, I became a strong, fiercely independent, opinionate woman, and I LOVE who I am today.  This was just stuff that I had to get off my chest...****

I'm 63 and I'm Tired...

Robert A. Hall is the actor who plays the coroner on CSI if you watch that show. He also is a Marine Vietnam War veteran.


This should be required reading for every man, woman and child in the United States of America ...

by Robert A. Hall

I'm 63 . Except for one semester in college when jobs were scarce and a six-month period when I was between jobs, but job-hunting every day, I've worked hard since I was 18. Despite some health challenges, I still put in 50-hour weeks, and haven't called in sick in seven or eight years. I make a good salary, but I didn't inherit my job or my income, and I worked to get where I am. Given the economy, there's no retirement in sight, and I'm tired. Very tired.

I'm tired of being told that I have to "spread the wealth" to people who don't have my work ethic. I'm tired of being told the government will take the money I earned, by force if necessary, and give it to people too lazy to earn it.

I'm tired of being told that I have to pay more taxes to "keep people in their homes." Sure, if they lost their jobs or got sick, I'm willing to help. But if they bought McMansions at three times the price of our paid-off, $250,000 condo, on one-third of my salary, then let the left-wing Congress-critters who passed Fannie and Freddie and the Community Reinvestment Act that created the bubble help them with their own money.

I'm tired of being told how bad America is by left-wing millionaires like Michael Moore, George Soros and Hollywood Entertainers who live in luxury because of the opportunities America offers. In thirty years, if they get their way, the United States will have the economy of Zimbabwe, the freedom of the press of China, the crime and violence of Mexico, the tolerance for Christian people of Iran, and the freedom of speech of Venezuela.

I'm tired of being told that Islam is a "Religion of Peace," when every day I can read dozens of stories of Muslim men killing their sisters, wives and daughters for their family "honor"; of Muslims rioting over some slight offense; of Muslims murdering Christian and Jews because they aren't "believers"; of Muslims burning schools for girls; of Muslims stoning teenage rape victims to death for "adultery"; of Muslims mutilating the genitals of little girls; all in the name of Allah, because the Qur'an and Shari'a law tells them to.

I'm tired of being told that "race doesn't matter" in the post-racial world of Obama, when it's all that matters in affirmative action jobs, lower college admission and graduation standards for minorities (harming them the most), government contract set-asides, tolerance for the ghetto culture of violence and fatherless children that hurts minorities more than anyone, and in the appointment of U . S . Senators from Illinois.

I think it's very cool that we have a black president and that a black child is doing her homework at the desk where Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation. I just wish the black president was Condi Rice, or someone who believes more in freedom and the individual and less arrogantly of an all-knowing government. Herb Cain a Black Businesman would be a great person to elect for president.

I'm tired of being told that out of "tolerance for other cultures" we must let Saudi Arabia use our oil money to fund mosques and mandrassa Islamic schools to preach hate in America , while no American group is allowed to fund a church, synagogue or religious school in Saudi Arabia to teach love and tolerance.

I'm tired of being told I must lower my living standard to fight global warming, which no one is allowed to debate. My wife and I live in a two-bedroom apartment and carpool together five miles to our jobs. We also own a three-bedroom condo where our daughter and granddaughter live. Our carbon footprint is about 5% of Al Gore's, and if you're greener than Gore, you're green enough.

I'm tired of being told that drug addicts have a disease, and I must help support and treat them, and pay for the damage they do. Did a giant germ rush out of a dark alley, grab them, and stuff white powder up their noses while they tried to fight it off? I don't think Gay people choose to be Gay, but I #@*# sure think druggies chose to take drugs. And I'm tired of harassment from cool people treating me like a freak when I tell them I never tried marijuana.

I'm tired of illegal aliens being called "undocumented workers," especially the ones who aren't working, but are living on welfare or crime. What's next? Calling drug dealers, "Undocumented Pharmacists"? And, no, I'm not against Hispanics. Most of them are Catholic, and it's been a few hundred years since Catholics wanted to kill me for my religion. I'm willing to fast track for citizenship any Hispanic person, who can speak English, doesn't have a criminal record and who is self-supporting without family on welfare, or who serves honorably for three years in our military.... Those are the citizens we need.


I'm tired of latte liberals and journalists, who would never wear the uniform of the Republic themselves, or let their entitlement-handicapped kids near a recruiting station, trashing our military. They and their kids can sit at home, never having to make split-second decisions under life and death circumstances, and bad mouth better people than themselves. Do bad things happen in war? You bet. Do our troops sometimes misbehave? Sure. Does this compare with the atrocities that were the policy of our enemies for the last fifty years and still are? Not even close. So here's the deal. I'll let myself be subjected to all the humiliation and abuse that was heaped on terrorists at Abu Ghraib or Gitmo, and the critics can let themselves be subject to captivity by the Muslims, who tortured and beheaded Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, or the Muslims who tortured and murdered Marine Lt. Col. William Higgins in Lebanon, or the Muslims who ran the blood-spattered Al Qaeda torture rooms our troops found in Iraq, or the Muslims who cut off the heads of schoolgirls in Indonesia, because the girls were Christian. Then we'll compare notes. British and American soldiers are the only troops in history that civilians came to for help and handouts, instead of hiding from in fear.

I'm tired of people telling me that their party has a corner on virtue and the other party has a corner on corruption. Read the papers; bums are bipartisan. And I'm tired of people telling me we need bipartisanship. I live in Illinois, where the " Illinois Combine" of Democrats has worked to loot the public for years. Not to mention the tax cheats in Obama's cabinet.

I'm tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians of both parties talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught. I'm tired of people with a sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

Speaking of poor, I'm tired of hearing people with air-conditioned homes, color TVs and two cars and expensive cell phones called poor. The majority of Americans didn't have that in 1970, but we didn't know we were "poor." The poverty pimps have to keep changing the definition of poor to keep the dollars flowing. When you donate things to the poor in the USA you now have to donate only new unopened gifts and toys.


I'm real tired of people who don't take responsibility for their lives and actions. I'm tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination or big-whatever for their problems.

Yes, I'm tired . But I'm also glad to be 63. Because, mostly, I'm not going to have to see the world these people are making. I'm just sorry for my granddaughter.

Robert A. Hall is a Marine Vietnam veteran who served five terms in the Massachusetts State Senate.

Life just isn't fair sometimes...

Infertility - primarily refers to the biological inability of a person to contribute to conception.

Even the definition is cruel.  But to be going through this is one of the cruelest things I've ever had to deal with.  Robbie and I have been trying on and off for 3 years to have a child.  We got really serious about it last year.  We've done Clomid, didn't work.  So, we were referred to an infertility specialist.  We've both had all our internal plumbing checked, and we're both fine.  We were put into a catergory called "unexplained infertility" which is basically saying, "Hey, everything is supposed to work, but it ain't working right."  Fun, huh?

We've done three IUI procedures, and none of them have worked.  They recommend 4, but we've decided that we're taking a break. This is ALL that I seem to have been focused on for the past year.  What does my body feel like today, did I take all the meds, does that look like one line or two?  And then, when I start, it's HORRIBLE!  At first I didn't think it'd hit me so hard, but on that day every month, after wishing, hoping, praying, wanting, the utter disappointment is almost too much to handle.  I cry at the drop of a hat, all day, every day.

And this stuff ain't cheap!  It's not covered by insurance AT ALL, and there is no "Bill me later" option.  You pay the minute you're done.  So, that's been taxing on us as well...

It almost at times feels like I'm a failure as a female and a wife.  I mean, all the anatomy that I have is designed for me to conceive and carry a child, that's down to the bare basics.  But I can't seem to.  It's not fair really.  I know SO many people who don't deserve the kids they have (some with several different baby daddies), and all I want is one.

And, selfishly I don't want to adopt.  I want to be able to have a child with my husband, and, if I can't, I don't want one.  That sounds horrible, but that's the way I feel.

So, we're stepping back.  Giving us a little "us" time and then we'll regroup.  I hope that's the right thing to do, but I honestly don't know how many more of "those" days every month I can stand...

Enough of my whining for one day.  Just had to get that all out...And, if you're reading, don't say anything to Robbie about it.  He hates when I put our personal stuff out there, but sometimes I just need to get it all out.