“Want some candy little girl?”

Have you ever been somewhere and saw someone that gave you a bad vibe? Maybe you got a cold chill; the hair on the back of your neck stood up, or your stomach flipped in a bad way; whatever it was that happened you knew that something was just not right. Your gut was telling you something, would you test it? Hopefully you avoid them. I have to admit I am leery of anyone that drives a van without windows. Profiling? Hell yes! To me, those vans scream child abductor or burglars.

I have learned over the years to trust my gut. I always listen to what my body and mind are trying to tell me. After learning to trust myself I think now I am a pretty good judge of character. Like a lot of people I learn from my mistakes. There have been times that I should have listened to what my gut said, didn’t, and had to deal with the repercussions; some minor, others quite serious. Needless to say, when I get a “feeling” about a situation or, more importantly a person, my guard goes up.  Makes sense huh?

So what is one to do when they have to deal with one of these people almost every day? I am faced with this challenge. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but I just don’t feel good about the person.  I don’t like being alone in a room with them. It isn’t that I don’t feel safe; in this situation I think I could take care of myself. I am not scared, but am definitely creeped the hell out. I don’t want to put a label on the person until I am certain just “what” it is about the.  When they come into the room, the boundaries of my personal space immediately expand. The person also has a habit of sneaking up behind me. Just purposefully standing there waiting for me to acknowledge them instead of speaking up to let me know they need something. It’s creepy and, in my opinion, rude. They cross the line with personal comments and suggestions; they clearly do not understand that some comments and conversations are best left amongst close friends.  So, I find myself in a shitty situation; I know what my gut tells me, but can’t avoid it. I can only keep interaction to a minimum. When I do have to interact with the person I find it extremely difficult to be friendly. I am quite certain I am coming across as a cold bitch at times. And yet, I cannot stop myself.  Ahhhh, what is a girl to do?

Goodnight Darling, MWAH!

For some reason I cannot get this video to embed so click HERE for the link.

I saw this video the other day on MSNBC and it has been on my mind. Body image issues are rampant. Now guys don’t start thinking this has nothing to do with you. Maybe a generation ago but now both sexes deal with these issues. How many of us have tried that fad diet to lose that last 5 pounds? Weight loss tv shows are everywhere as are ads for diet aids. Don’t misunderstand me; I think America is a sick nation and we need to get it together and get healthy. But the whole get skinny fast thing irks me. I know a “skinny” woman. She smokes a pack a day and eats anything as long as it has white flour and white sugar. There are never fresh fruits or vegetables in the house and yet she proudly proclaims she is healthy because she is thin. Why do people buy in to that bullshit?!

I will admit I don’t exactly feel comfortable in my own skin sometimes. I can look in the mirror and see someone totally different than the person everyone else sees. I zero in on all my negative areas. But I eat healthfully and work out. And it makes me feel better; not only physically but mentally. Because while I may have larger arms than the average woman I know they are stronger than the average woman’s. I love the look of surprise I get in the gym when I move heavy weights. It has taken years to get to this point. And little videos and articles like the above cankle nonsense are part of the reason it has taken so long. They are ankles for god’s sake! I am happy to get thru a day without twisting one; I don’t want to start worrying that they are now too fat. Seriously, what is next, wrists and fingers??  “Oh, NO! My knuckles are too chubby. Better schedule an appointment for lypo.” Shit fire. Do we really not have anything better to talk about?

Hello again! Yes it has been ages…. I have been quite busy. Not really, but it sounds better than “I have been sitting on my ever enlarging ass and doing nothing”. I just have not had anything inspire me to write.

But I do now.  So, what’s up? I finally got a J.O.B.!!! Yes! I am working for a new Psychiatrist here in town. He seems like a wonderful doctor; very kind and compassionate, but still has a sense of humor. I really look forward to working with him more. I have only been there a week but it looks like it will be a very busy practice once things are up and running smoothly. I hope that will be soon. I don’t like the first couple months of a new practice….its super stressful!!

Oh! I went on a little vacation before I started work last week. Adam’s mother took us to Broken Bow for a few days. It is so beautiful there. It is almost like you aren’t in Oklahoma!!  I kayaked 8 miles and didn’t even fall out!! Please, hold the applause. No, never mind; clap on, I deserve it. I was actually really good at the whole thing…. Shocking really, I cannot walk 20 feet without fumbling or bumbling, but somehow managed to stay upright on a 3 foot waterfall thing and level 3 rapids. Go figure.

My laptop is going to be on its way to HP rehab this week. It is having screen issues. I will miss it so.

Well this has been my tiny little update. I am going to try to get my other posts done tonight. They are pretty random but that’s par for the course, right?

Goodnight Darling, MWAH!!

There is something about We Are Family by Sister Sledge that makes me want to pick out my hair, put on gold lame, and shake my groove thang. Don’t tell me I am the only one, come on, you know you’d join me. No? Fuck you then, but it was a good segway for tonight’s post.

What is family? What criteria, in your opinion, must be met for a person to be family? I have been thinking about this a lot today. “You are not family”.  There is one person that feels the need to remind me of this fact every time I am at one of my boyfriend’s family functions. Want to know the best part? This time the whole incident was caught on video. YES! Someone is using the camcorder panning the crowd, and there I hear it. “You are not family.” At this moment many things started running through my head. As I have mentioned it isn’t the first time it has been said so I am getting quite good at coming up with different reactions; instead of just stupidly starring wondering who the hell could be so fucking rude.  Only an hour before all fifty (maybe just 49,ok fine, but there are at least 20) of them posed for group family photos sans me; So by this time, even though I was instructed to wear a matching shirt for the said photos, I was aware I was not one of the clan. AGAIN.  “Yes, that is quite obvious. I am fully aware. Thank you for once again bringing that to my attention”, I said it with the sweetest tone and biggest smile I could muster. All the while I couldn’t quite decide whether I wanted to crawl in a hole and cry, or just scream “thank heaven for that!” But like I said, it was all on camera; so I smiled away. It was awkward as hell. Really, it was worthy of reality TV.  

So in this person’s opinion I am not family because Adam and I are not married. My mother will tell you that my sister’s husband and Adam are her sons. My sister, when speaking to her son, refers to Adam as Uncle Adam. As far as my family is concerned he is in. There are no hoops to jump through, no marriage licenses to sign; basically, you are a good person, we like you, welcome to the family. I was raised to know that a person did not have to be a blood relative to be family. In turn I learned that some blood relatives are not family. As Dad would say, “they aint shit”.  Family is what you want it to be and full of the ones you love.  I grew up next door to my distant cousins. We were thick as thieves. It never occurred to me that they were not as “close” to me as my first cousins. We are family; Plain and simple. I still consider their Aunts and Uncle, whom I am not related to, to be family. In my opinion, family is the person you want to be with on the holidays, not the person you have to spend them with.

Tonight as I cool and calm my temper I reflect on my little situation. It reminds me of that clique in school. You know the one with all the “cool” kids that wear all the cool clothes and drive the coolest cars and go to the super coolest of parties. You want to be in the group. You want to belong. Even though they all talk shit on you behind your back. Even though one of them started that horrible rumor about you last year; you can’t help it. Your best friend is in that group; maybe she can get you in. Then one night you come to your senses. Why would I want to be a part of a group that says mean things about people they don’t know? Will I have to be mean in order to be one of them? Would I ever be able to call those people my friend after they started that rumor? Aren’t you supposed to be able to trust your friends?

I know who my family is. So I guess they were right; we are not family.

Are you a Daddy’s girl? I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, I am quite certain my father would drop everything he was doing if I called needing something.   But I’ve never been the type to sugar up to Dad, bat my lashes, and sweetly say “Daddy, may I have a pony?” Or whatever else I felt was absolutely necessary for my existence at that moment. That’s not to say I never asked for things, I did. I just learned to pick my battles. While I could probably get a Laffy Taffy (a mutual favorite) out of him at the store, I knew what I would hear if I asked for a pair of cool (expensive) jeans. “Shit in one hand and wish in the other”.  Hmmm, yeah I figured out what hand filled up faster. I also figured out how to take care of myself; lots more rewarding than having shit handed to you on a platter. The gifts I received from my father were free, and for the most part went unnoticed and underappreciated for years.

When I was young my dad worked his ass off at jobs he was never passionate about. He did that to care for his family. But every summer you could see a change occur in him. It was during the summer months that he helped with harvest on his grandfather’s farm. He was working himself to his limit but he was smiling. My senior year my dad got to start farming full-time. I have never seen him happier. While I am far from a farm girl I liked hanging out with him in his element. He has a genuine respect for the land, the animals, and Mother Nature. Now every summer as I watch my garden grow I feel a little piece of his happiness.

Last year I refinished my dining room table and chairs. It was old, free, hand-me-down furniture. But I saw the potential there. Did I mention it was FREE? I realized that I liked the smell of sawdust and wood stain. They were nostalgic. The smell of sawdust is my mom’s apple pie. When I was young dad would let me hang out in the garage with him while he would make cabinets and furniture; you name it, he can build it. He would usually give me a piece of wood, a hammer, and some nails and I would happily hammer away. Many times the hammer would land smack on my thumb! I’d suck on it silently so I didn’t have to leave. I remember silently watching everything he did. I realized that the work I was doing on my own furniture had been learned by watching my dad. Well, that and watching This Old House with him EVERY Sunday!

I will never forget the day dad drove me to the office of our family attorney. My husband of only a few short weeks had filed for divorce. I was in shock and an emotional mess. He didn’t say much on the way there. In the office it was pretty short and sweet. “Ill pay you to get him outta her life”. That is really the only part of the meeting I remember. Afterward in his truck on the way home I lost it; I layed my head in his lap and sobbed. I remember his big strong hand stroking my head. “Get it all out, don’t hold back. Cry out all the hurt. Then get MAD!”That small little blip in time forever changed the way I saw my father.  I felt a closeness to him I had been missing for a long time. 

This is my all-time favorite photo with my dad. It’s my sister, dad, and me at the zoo. I love the smile on my face; I look Like I could squeal any second. HAHA! And it is an old Polaroid, how cool is that?!

Happy Father’s day to all you daddies out there!

Why do some people fall into self destructive behavior and others seem to just rise above it? On what side of the line do you fall? I am my own worst critic and can break my own confidence down at an extraordinary rate. The good thing is that I am also able to recognize this negative behavior and fix it. It isn’t easy. It pretty much sucks. Not the fixing part, but coming to the realization; once again you have let yourself down. If that’s not a punch in the gut I don’t know what is.

A couple years ago I was lucky enough to meet a gentleman that has become one of my dearest friends; a kindred spirit of sorts. And I never saw it coming.  Most of you that know me know that I don’t have many close friends. I may know a lot of people and be friendly with them, but I can count the ones that I’d call to be bailed out of jail on ONE hand. I have also never really been one to have a ton of girlfriends. I just couldn’t take the drama. So the people that I can call my true friends are extremely special to me.

I bring the special person up now because he is pretty good at calling me out at my own game. The thing that keeps me from hating him when he does it is he is so articulate about it. He has a gift with saying things beautifully; never in a hurtful manner. Whereas I am one to say “find what you like. Do it. If no one likes it, fuck em”, he would most likely say “Kelsey, go for what you want. Say what you want out loud, take a deep breath and jump into the deep end of the pool.  It’s adult swim time.” See, that’s like ten times better than mine, huh?!

Three months of unemployment has put me in a funk.  Remember when you were a kid and your parents told you that if you ever got lost to stay where you were until you were found? Well I liken my situation to that sort of. I feel lost. And I don’t know where to go or what to do, so there is no moving forward. I am stuck. My brilliant friend posed a few (actually A LOT) questions for me to consider.  

“What is it that will make and makes Kelsey feel happy, safe and fulfilled?” Sounds easy enough, but have you ever tried to make a list of your answers? It requires you to really think about yourself; something we are schooled not to do, as it is selfish. Also getting past preconceived notions and ideas that society has deemed “normal” is extremely difficult. I think this exercise is even more difficult for women. We so easily push our own needs and desires to the side to focus on others. And we all know that bites you in the ass sooner or later.  I have compiled the beginnings of my list. The cool part is most of them are FREE. All kidding aside, making a list like this can help you reevaluate and recalculate your life and priorities. Do you have a list? Why not make one? Now is as good a time as any…. Hold tight and run fast!

Good Night Darling, MWAH

I guess after yesterday’s post you figured out I am back. I took a short break after my little melt down and I feel much better. I want to say thank you to all of you that commented and emailed me after my “opinions are like assholes” post. I did not publish them on the blog, but rest assured they were recieved and very much appreciated. Your kind words mean the world to me and were just what the doctor ordered! So thank you!!

So I am back; just don’t go expecting me to try to follow any sort of guidlines or schedule. I have promised myself to never again listen to some “make you blog better” shit. *hangs head* I know, I am pittyful. I just wanted to have a blog that everyone would love. Problem was I didnt love it. And ummm, yeah, its my fucking blog!!!

Good night my darlings, MWAH!

Megan Fox was recently asked what she would say to Megatron to keep him from destroying the world. “I’d barter with him,” she muses to the July issue Total Film UK, “and say instead of the entire planet, can you just take out all of the white trash, hillbilly, anti-gay, super bible-beating people in Middle America?” OMG! Smokin’ hot AND brilliant?! I heart her right now.

These thought may be spurred by the fact that I made myself sit through the documentary Jesus Camp this afternoon. I don’t know what compelled me to actually watch but I was sucked in immediately by the bullshit Midwestern homeschooling mother teaching her sons that “global warming is just a conspiracy”. Needless to say I was pretty fired up after that little comment and decided to stick around and see what some of our youth are being taught. My blood pressure was soaring within ten minutes. But then (oh yes, it gets better) these families head off to Jesus Camp. It’s in North Dakota and it is for Evangelical Christian Children. Now I have been to a couple church camps in my youth. But none of them were quite like this. The first night there the leader preacher woman goes on to tell the children that “sin kills”. What the fuck?! Tells them that she knows because God has told her that not all of the good little children that are there are really good. That they fake it for their families, but around their friends they are sinners. The whole room full of kids starts crying saying yes its true, Jesus we have failed you, yadda yadda. At this point I was on the verge of tears; half flaming pissed off and the other half just sad that this is supposed to be a fun time for these kids. The last night there they are all made to pledge to God that they will help start the war on abortion. They are told that because of abortions they don’t have as many friends as they rightfully should have.  Mind you there are probably four year olds there…..why do they need to know about fetus size and all the dirty procedures? They should be playing with Barbies. But those aren’t HOLY! They are of the flesh.  Anyway, one of the last parts of the show was two children talking about how they are really being trained as warriors and they weren’t afraid. NO.  They wanted to be martyrs!!! I was nauseated at that point.

This kind of teaching is what makes people go out and kill the Dr. George Tiller’s of the world. All in their Fathers Name! It’s too bad they are all being indoctrinated with this bullshit!! Really they are being taught intolerance.  Not once in that show did I hear anything about kindness. They were all quite quick to judge and state very proudly their way was the only (holy) way.

So, Megan…. I could not have said it better.

I can see from my blog stats that not all of my readers are family or acquaintances. Most of those readers are like me; I read and regularly follow blogs but rarely leave comments. I suppose those are the readers I am speaking to today. I don’t want to close the blog, but at this time it is a consideration. I am interested to hear what my readers think on the situation so please feel free to comment or email me at Kelsey@thrutheobscure.com.

It has recently been brought to my attention that my blog has been the cause of arguments between family members. I never thought anything thing I said would ever matter to anyone else let alone cause a rift between others. There are blogs out there that purposefully do that. They are controversial and I like many of them. I like that the readers comment on the posts, and then others re-comment and have intellectual arguments about the posts. I don’t think those authors worry that they might say something to hurts anyone’s feelings. They don’t have to. They figure their readers can like it and say so, hate it and say so, or get the hell over it.  And I naively thought my blog would be the same. I thought if I spoke up on something I cared about that others disagreed with I would know about it. Better yet if a reader liked something I wrote that they could respond honestly about how they felt about the post. I realize there will always be differing sides of opinions. I like that. I don’t want to live in a Stepford Wives’ world, but apparently there are those that would love it.   

This blog was a gift to me from a man that loves me and believes in me. He knew I could use an outlet and designed this blog with my tastes and ideas in mind.  I don’t exactly have a lot in common with many people in this area. That isn’t something that bothers me much. I have always been different and not so main stream. I would not say I am a proud non-conformist but I am a proud individual. I know what makes me happy and don’t see the point in wasting my life trying to fit into the status quo. I don’t think there is anything wrong with others doing so. If that is what makes them happy they should continue.  The purpose for the blog was to be able to speak freely, knowing that someone else out there may possibly think the same. Also if a reader didn’t think along the same lines I hoped that they may have been able to see the world from someone else’s eyes.

Unknowingly saying things that hurt another is common. We have all done it at some point. Sometimes that person will speak up and let you know their feelings were hurt. And in turn you feel badly for hurting them. Other times you may find out later you hurt them and they never said anything to you but spoke freely about it to anyone else that would listen. Basically speaking negatively about you and possibly swaying the listener’s opinion of you. Junior High and High school was filled with daily instances like this one. It brings back those horrible feelings I felt back then. Anxiety, dread, and fear ruled my adolescent life. I rarely walked with my head high; I never stood up straight, and always felt as though people were talking negatively about me. I had ZERO confidence. It is a shitty way to live and I refuse to feel that way again.

So to anyone out there that enjoys the blog let me know. Maybe I have only had one post that meant something to you, but that one post means something to me. Tell me. If I say things that you agree with let me know. I want to know if you think I am completely insane and only come here for a good laugh. If you don’t give a shit either way that’s cool, I figure it out at some point. I am just putting it out there.

Mother’s are very influential people. My mother is no different. I can confidently say I would not be the person I am today had it not been for my Mother. Of course my father had a part in it and I definitely show many signs of being raised by “Big Pa” for my older adolescent years. But it is Mother’s Day and I want to talk about Modge. Modge is a nickname of sorts my brother bestowed on my mother and it has stuck. They had a special bond that will never be replicated. It is what most people can only wish for.

Let me start off by saying that I would not be here if it were not for my mom; I know, no one would. Let me rephrase that. I would not be here had it not been for my mother’s stubborn streak. She had been told by her doctor’s that having children would be dangerous and they were right. I damned near killed her and her epilepsy only worsened. Of course her being a stubborn ass she proceeded to produce two more children and became progressively more ill. I am still utterly amazed she didn’t stroke out; we could raise the blood pressure of Gandhi.

Mom was sick a lot while I was young. Actually she has been pretty ill until 3 years ago. I think there was never a truer statement than “you gotta hit rock bottom before you reach the top”. To be honest I have a lot of missing memories. I simply cannot remember things my sister can. My mind chose to hide them and I am fine with that. I am happy because while I do remember a few negative things, most of my childhood memories are great. I suppose it is like selective hearing…. I only remember what I want. It works for me.

My mother taught me to harmonize in the car. I have a lot of memories of cruising around town in the old mercury cougar. I would later be horribly embarrassed to be seen in that car. I never said I was a perfect child. Any time I hear a Top 20’s song from the 80’s I think of Mom. Actually she still jams out to the same stuff on Pandora! She never gave a shit what people thought. She let us play in her wedding dress, use her good china and crystal every day, pick out our own clothes even if they didn’t match, run around and play to our hearts content; she just wanted us happy.  She raised us with a fairly free hand. She didn’t want to “break our spirits”. In her eyes we were perfect; we still are. I always know who I can go to if I need a little pep talk. If I lose confidence she is the one I go to. If I told her I wanted to run for the next presidency, she would be the first one on my campaign wagon. She just believes in me. I never really truly appreciated it so much until I grew older and met other friend’s mothers. You know I can truly say while my upbringing was not picture storybook perfect, I had it made compared to some of the shit stories I have heard. Or even certain instances I have been lucky enough to view. Dude, really there are some serious bitches out there producing!!

One of my favorite stories Modge tells about me as a child is about one of my first picture days. I was young, still an only child so no more than 2ish. Modge had decided to take my cute ass to get a photo at a local shopping center. It was whatever the hell Stage used to be, my mind is blank. Anyway, I had a new rain slicker; bright yellow with a cute little design on it. Well after standing in line for who knows how long, it was finally our turn. Only I was not gonna have any of it. I wanted my Mommy in the picture with me and that was that. Yes, I inherited that stubborn streak; on both sides. I have since learned that the “my way or the highway” thing isn’t that pretty; and now put the stubbornness to good use, not just to get what I want. But I digress; I wanted my mommy in the picture. Ok any of you out there, if this had been you what would your mother have done? Tell you to sit still and smile? Make you take that damn picture alone? Let you cry and end up with THAT kind of photo? Not my mom. She searched the store for a matching rain slicker and posed with me. Honestly, how many people do you know that would do that?! It is my favorite picture. I am cute as hell and happy to be sitting I’m her arms, and her proud smile is priceless. That and the rose ombre tinted 80’s specks she was sporting. HAHA!

While I am not really interested in turning onto the road to Mommy-Ville I know that if that time comes I have been lucky enough to have a great role model. So here’s to Modge and all the other mothers out there,  Happy Mother’s Day to you all!