I’m feeling a bit under the weather today, but thought I’d jump on here for a bit just the same to get something down. I’m trying to discipline myself to write everyday—whether I feel up to it or am suffering from a block—because in doing so it’s going to make it easier on me when I began to work on writing projects I began in the past and never finished; mainly due to my dealing with depression associated with my crazy life. I’ve learned from past experience once you begin writing you have to keep at it diligently till it’s finished, or you run the risk of it never getting done at all. Especially if you suffer from…you know, mental shit like I do.
I’d like to at least say I finished what I started, and also plan on writing a memoir of my family for posterity purposes. It matters little to me if it ever sees a bookshelf other than members of my family’s. I just think there are tid-bits of information that gets lost in translation when it’s passed down, and unless there is some way to document it you risk losing it forever. Our family is large, loud, very diverse, and our history very interesting. Some members more interesting than others. Anyway, I think it would make for a great read if I could just get my shit together. I know my oldest sister has already given me the okay to use her in my blog if I wish, and will. Our relationship though is a story in itself and deals with a lot of delicate subjects, and although I’ve started working on something am having trouble with how much I want to include, and just how I want to word it. Touchy, touchy, subjects.
I updated my About Me page yesterday, and added a photo of the hubby and I to it. I had to have Pandora Patty send me one, because I’m still using my old tower with Windows 2000, haven’t gotten my newer one fixed yet, any and all recent photos are in the other one, and I have none on disc. My bad! The pic is several years old, our features were kind of vague after I downsized it and messed with imaging—I’m not real savvy with that kind of thing—but it’s us just the same. It surprised me how little we’ve changed. Other than the fact my bangs are a bit shorter, and the old man’s hair is a lot longer, everything is pretty much as it was several years ago…including the shitty paneling on that wall that he still won’t let me do anything about! What is it about paneling that men love so much? “Eww…!” I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. He does let me have what he refers to as my ‘Holly-Hobby’ shit all over the house. I still don’t understand where he found that term, because I have nothing that is actual ‘Holly Hobby’. Whatever…
I think my downloading the photo surprised Pandora Patty. Not that I’m a real private person, but my blog has dealt with many of my personal issues, and in some instances I’ve really bared all and opened myself up wide to possible judgment. I believe she feels for me to share with all of you the face of this author is a bit scary and can’t believe I’ve healed and evolved enough to do so. Me neither. I guess time will tell if I live to regret this. Oh well, if that happens it sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time, would it?
Surprisingly, I have fewer regrets now that I did when I was younger. At that time I definitely had a lot less mistakes to beat myself up over, but seemed to do it a lot more. I worried about everything and anything, I suppose including how people viewed me. Oh, don’t get me wrong, in a lot of ways I still did as I damn well pleased, but I do think I worried how me being myself was viewed by others. Not so much anymore. I make few apologies for the way I think, feel, and things I’ve done. Would I rather have been one of those women who was raised perfectly, had every advantage, got a degree in college; married and remained with the first guy she opened up her legs for? I honestly don’t know. I’m screwed up, but I have a good heart and believe I’m a pretty interesting person, and think my life and the people that have been a part of it had everything to do with that.
I guess I don’t sit and think too much anymore about regrets I could or should have. It seems I pine away a lot over current problems, but am finding that I’ve made peace with most of the old ones. I could regret using drugs when I was young, but having started early I got that wild part out of my system before I had kids, and that definitely contributed to my being a better mother. I could regret being with my ex-husbands, but then I would’ve never been given the gift of my three children, and they would never be something I’d wish away. I could regret some relationships I’ve had, and yes, even those encounters with casual sex. I choose not to. I learned a little from every man I’ve been with—unfortunately, some really educated me—and have never apologized when it came to casual sex and/or taking care of my bad-self. Men have been doing that shit for years and no one bats an eye. Hey, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander! Besides, if I hadn’t been open to an occasional tryst I never would’ve met my current husband. I swear, I was rebounding from another guy, and he was just supposed to be a ‘yummy’ to take my mind off the other. Apparently he didn’t know that, or care. And although our marriage has had more than it’s share of ups and downs, we are still together after seven years, will be celebrating our fifth anniversary in exactly two weeks, and somehow are still battling through. I have no doubt whether good or bad, we stay together or not, moving here and with him possibly saved me, because my drinking was beyond dreadful when we got together. So you see, you can always find a bit of the good in the bad, if not a lot. It makes the letting go of regrets a lot easier when you look at it like that.
I guess I do have that one regret that eats at me. The full, back tattoo I got started that I got screwed out of before the outline was completely finished and color added. I think I look like a walking etch-a-sketch! My intentions were good, I trusted the artist, but he folded on me midway through and went to Canada to be with his true love. Whatever! Fat lotta good that did me, huh? Sad part is that he was paid up for many sessions, I was unemployed after and didn’t have the money to get work done on it right away, and now when I go to have it finished will have to have what’s already there re-lined. Hey, I’ve already paid my dues on what’s there, so it sucks to have to go through that portion of the pain unnecessarily again. Anyone bearing a lot of ink knows exactly what I mean! Anyway, I don’t regret the tat, just my choice of timing and the artist. “Live and fucking learn!” Hmmm…think they’d let that fly as the title for a book?