Everyone do me a favor...would ya?

Hey you all...I have a question. I need some honest answers please...dont worry about my feelings...on some things Im fairly easy going...lol.


See that picture of me over on the right side of the screen...my profile pic...tell me honestly...do I look like a guy in any way shape or form?


The reason I ask is because I get referred to as "Mr" or "Sir" quite a lot when being addressed...generally by salespeople etc. Now I dont want to be all racist or anything but I have noticed that its generally Filipino women that call me as such...before they take a second closer look and realize their mistake. I can only surmise that happens when they notice Mr has a nice set of breasts...sigh.


Anyhow, I pretty much look like that, my picture seen there, all the time. I dont wear makeup...I do have my bad hair days...and I do wear glasses, which Im not wearing in that pic purely for reasons of vanity....but still...I dont get why Im mistaken for a man so often....anyone?


Do I look like a guy to you all?....dont worry...I can take it like a man...ha ha!!!

10 Things About Me

Not in the mood to really think up a post these days so will fill out this tag by CM http://cm-justthinking.blogspot.com/ 10 Things About Me others might not know. Enjoy...or not...lol.


1. I was born in the elevator in the hospital...incidentally I HATE elevators. Will avoid if I can. This hate is tempered if my floor is above 4...lol.


2. Was considered having a higher than average intelligence when young...I skipped a grade of school and was going to skip another but my Mother hesitated. She didnt want me to be picked on by big kids...or at least bigger than the ones that already picked on me. My intelligence seemed to antagonize people...I dont know why. 20 years of forced inertia has pretty much kept all that intelligence under wraps...sigh.


3. I use to be fairly outgoing and was considered the class clown (dont laugh I was quite the funny girl)...now people tend to view me with caution and approach on high alert. I find very little funny anymore and I tolerate people less and less. Consequently I have few friends and no desire to make more for the most part.


4. I use to get massive ear aches and ear infections when young. I experienced both ear drums being blown out...consequently I dont hear very well. I tend to use that as an excuse not to hear people sometimes.


5. I wrote a short story in high school. My teacher stole it...I mean said he lost it. I happened to see it printed in a magazine a few years later after I had left home. He had changed it somewhat but I recognized it as mine obviously.....so...Im published...lol.


6. I generally read several books at once. I keep one in the car as well for when Im waiting in traffic...at a shop etc.


7. I had a crush on a high school teacher...and said teacher overheard me say this to my friend one day. He managed to finish the year without running the other way every time he seen me...he was also my favorite teacher. I might do a post about him..ha ha.


8. I contemplate murder at least once a day.


9. There is very little in my life I feel satisfied about. If I could do it all again...I wouldnt know where to start. I have a list of people I am so angry at I cant sleep at night sometimes...and my name is at the top of that list.


10. I no longer feel religion has power in my life....at least not the type of religion so many choose to follow. I feel adrift and alone....but thats ok for now.


I dont think I will tag anyone as I feel its putting an obligation on them they might not appreciate...so I will leave it for anyone that chooses to do so...let us know so we can check you out though.

Jimmy Carter...a voice of reason

In my search for some information on another topic I came across this by Jimmy Carter regarding men using religious speak to subjugate and oppress women...then declare that God orders it to be so. Its an interesting read and I advise others to give it a look.


"This view that women are somehow inferior to men is not restricted to one religion or belief. It is widespread. Women are prevented from playing a full and equal role in many faiths."


He speaks from a Christian perspective but of course you can insert any religion, including Islam, into the space and have the same result.


"Nor, tragically, does its influence stop at the walls of the church, mosque, synagogue or temple. This discrimination, unjustifiably attributed to a Higher Authority, has provided a reason or excuse for the deprivation of women's equal rights across the world for centuries. The male interpretations of religious texts and the way they interact with, and reinforce, traditional practices justify some of the most pervasive, persistent, flagrant and damaging examples of human rights abuses."


http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/jul/12/jimmy-carter-womens-rights-equality


In case anyone hasnt figured it out yet...I havent a clue how to make a link...tried tried and tried again...no luck. I apologize for my ineptitude in all things bloggy.

My apologies

I apologize for all regular readers...my family is going through a very tough time at the moment and I cant be bothered to string a few words together and call it a post.


We have had a bomb of monumental proportions dropped on this family...and of all places to be for it to happen....Bahrain is right down there on the list of the absolute wrong place to be...sigh.


Will post something as soon as things work out one way or the other...I hope sooner rather than later.


Come back soon and take care.

Grandparents...hot and cold. pt 2

The relationship I had with my grandfather was something else all together when compared with the one I had (or didnt have) with my grandmother. He and I were pals and we got along great.

As I mentioned in the last post you could usually find him sitting on the porch in his broken down chair drinking beer and telling stories of his life...usually his younger years. I was never able to learn whether he was telling the truth or just wishful thinking...but I loved his stories anyhow. They were colorful (language as well as use of adjectives) and I never got tired of hearing them.

Because my grandad was an alcoholic most of his life there are only a few occasions when I can remember going anywhere with him. My mother was very careful about that and made absolutely sure he hadnt been drinking before allowing me to go off with him. We'd get into his late model car, roll down the windows and head off down the road...generally keeping traffic backed up for miles as he never seemed to go much faster than 30 mph and for some reason never remembered to turn off the turn indicator. We'd have cars horning behind us in impatient outrage and he'd seemingly be completely oblivious to the road rage he was instigating behind him. While people were anxious to horn in frustration I dont personally remember anyone actually taking him on or gunning the engine and making a dangerous move to get around him...as they are so quick to do these days. We always had a good time together and I do sorely miss them.

I spent quite a lot of our vacation time on the porch with my grandpa...in his garden (while still able to get around he loved his garden) or just shuffling down the road going nowhere in particular....and always talking. When he'd been drinking more than usual I never really understood the things that might come out of his mouth...but now when I think about it I realize he was just as bitter and angry as my grandmother about his "wasted" life and failure to make something of it....but that anger only seemed to come out with the helping hand of alcoholic lubrication. I didnt see it often when I was with him.

Gramps loved to go fishing and we loved going fishing with him. Oklahoma has some pretty fishing holes and plenty of wildlife to look at while your busy not catching anything. I remember once sitting on a small out crop of rocks and was surprised and scared silly to see a cottonmouth snake come slithering out into the water. We all knew the dangers of snakes in that area and this was a bad one as far as snakes go...so imagine my amazement to see gramps calmly stride over, grab the thing matter of factly and hurl it off across the water...then calmly walk back to his fishing. Most people dont believe me when I tell that story but all I can do is tell it the way I saw it...believe it or not. Mom said he was probably drunk and didnt know what he was doing, didnt realize the dangers, but I dont recall seeing gramps drinking that day as he usually didnt when out with us...only at home while sitting on the porch for the most part. I prefer to think of him as my non-drunk hero...sigh.

One thing that stands out more clear than anything else in my childhood was grampas choice of clothing. As you can see from the pic he nearly always wore overalls...I can hardly remember a day that he didnt have them on. He'd get holes in them and demand my grandmother mend them...it was one thing he seemed adamant about her doing despite her protests. He wanted his overalls mended and that was that. She usually did it...complaining the whole time.

Ive loved writing stories my whole life...started when I was old enough to know I could...and I wrote a story about gramps and his overalls while in my senior year of school writing class. I got an A on that paper and my teacher read it out loud to the class...something she hadnt done with other stories up to that point. In my high school year book she signed it saying..."I will always remember your Old Overalls"...which was the name of the story.

As I mentioned in the last post...the last time I seen gramps he was nearly in tears about us leaving early due to grammas constant complaints about everything....mostly me. He tried to talk mom into staying...followed us out into the driveway promising everything would be fine...to ignore her cause she was "crazy" and not let the vacation be ruined cause of it. Mom wasnt listening in her intent to get away. She had had enough and we were gone with barely a hug and whispers of goodbye. I still remember gramps scratchy beard and extra hard hug...promising to see me next time.

I never seen gramps again. I left home and went into the military a few months later...then came to Bahrain. He died the first year I was here and of course I couldnt go to his funeral. When my mother called me and told me gramps had passed it was a feeling like no other. I already felt lonely and isolated here in Bahrain. I felt cut off from the family and all that was going on with them...and cause gramps and I had been so close...I was especially hard hit to have to suffer this grief alone.

A few weeks later I received a package from my mom. Inside was a cassette tape with grampa's funeral written on it. I listened to the tape and was completely overcome with emotion to realize mom had taped pertinent parts of the funeral for me. Gramps favorite song was playing in the back ground. People stood up and said their piece about him....and then something familiar came on...something that I had no idea had even made the trip to OK much less to gramps funeral. My cousin Diane was reading my story...the one I had written about gramps and his old overalls. She started out well enough but before too long she could barely get the words out...and I could hear everyone in the room crying or commenting in some way.

I was completely gutted...

My mom knew I was upset about his death and that I couldnt be there...so she had made sure I was there at least in some fashion....and it was the absolute right thing to do...I was both eternally grateful and overcome with emotion...both incredibly sad and insanely happy at the same time. That cassette was one of my most prized possessions for years...until in a fit of rage my (ex)husband shattered it and threw it away...calling it morbid to listen to a funeral again and again. Why do some people have absolutely no compunction to hurt in this way for no reason what so ever?

I find it strange that my gramps died back in 1988 and so had been gone for many years...but up until I was able to visit OK 6 years ago (before grammas death) knowing he was gone and believing it were two different things. Until I was able to visit his graveside and see his name written on a headstone was I able to finally believe in my heart that he was gone. It was a peaceful day for me somehow.

When my grandmother passed away after suffering a year and a half with Alzheimer's in which my mother cared for her up until her passing...I can honestly say that I didnt feel sad...I wasnt upset...it really meant nothing to me. I feel like an ogre for saying that but its the truth. I was very sad for my mother for losing HER mother...but for me it had no affect. This upset my mother to some degree...she WAS my grandmother after all...but we cannot manufacture grief if it isnt there...and it wasnt there for me.

Incidentally mom says that the last year of grammas life in which she suffered through the destructive deterioration of Alzheimer's gave her an insight into what her mother might have been like if life hadnt kicked her down so hard and made her an angry bitter woman. All though I never seen her myself Mom tells me that gramma died a sweet compliant woman that never complained or got upset with anything. Obviously it was the disease that had made her forget her life and her reasons for the anger etc...but my Mother was very happy that she had got to see what she hopes was her "real" mother. Im glad she was able to see that for her own peace of mind.

I miss my gramps and wish I had that funeral tape still...but I do have my memories...and those will do me just fine.

Grandparents...hot and cold.

* a rare pic of my grandparents together

As a lot of people who read this blog might know...I grew up with a crazy father who kept us fairly isolated from people specifically and the world in general as much as he could. Most of the places we lived when I was young were either very small towns or isolated areas in which there were few neighbors. It was rare for people to come visit us...and rarer still for us to go visit them...or to spend the night with friends etc. Most of our friends were too scared to even come to our house for the most part...so we didnt do a lot of asking for slumber parties any how...but it would have been nice to have those sorts of memories.


My Mothers family never came to see us for the most part during my childhood...any visiting that was done was by us going to see them. It didnt happen a lot but enough so that us kids knew our grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins. (they all lived in pretty much the same area in OK) When we went down to visit we usually stayed with my grandparents...and counted the days until we were ran out of the house and headed back home. It went something like this....

My grandmother was about the most anti social person Ive ever personally known in my life. She suffered a lot in her life so I figure that had a lot to do with it...but I also assume she had personal issues and personality hangups that made her who she was....a person that rarely smiled...never laughed...and had nothing good to say about anything. All my childhood all I can remember from her was a constant babble of complaints about everything and anything under the sun. Whenever we came to visit my mother braced herself for a constant onslaught of finger pointing and nagging from sun up to sun down...and late into the night. Grandma never seemed to run out of things to complain about...and didnt sleep much either...sigh.


Grandpa, on the other hand, dealt with life (and maybe his wife) by drinking...a lot. While she sat at the kitchen table (I rarely saw her anywhere else in her house other than the bedroom for sleeping...and she only went in there when she wanted to sleep) he would sit outside on the porch in his broken down chair sipping on beer and ignoring the complaints that were constantly being thrown out the screen door at him. They very rarely spent time in the same room together other than when passing through...and I never heard a single word between them that could in any way be considered civil...Mom says its because of the hard life they spent together and the era they grew up in. They were like enemies that couldnt live together...but wouldnt even think of living life apart.


Now I had two very different relationships with these two people. Like night and day...or hot and cold depending on how you look at it. As I sit here and think about the both of them (both have since passed on) I only have negative memories with my grandmother and only positive memories of my grandfather. Its possible because I was a child my memories are somewhat distorted but I will explain and you tell me...what was going on with those two?


As I mentioned, my grandmother was a bitter and angry woman...this was her personality and she pretty much treated everyone to a tongue lashing if they dared come too close. Most of the family had learned that a quick visit was just about all that could be had if you didnt want to get dragged into a tirade that lasted hours. Whenever we stayed there for more than a day...Mom would make frequent "trips to the store" just to give herself (and us) a chance to regroup and calm down. I was usually the first one in the car when she suggested we needed something...I couldnt get away fast enough. You see, my grandmother hated me...we all knew this...including my Mother...but none of us knew why.


Picture this. My grandmother rarely showed affection to anyone...even her own children...so a hug from her or even her reaching out and touching someone on purpose was just something so rare that it caused heads to turn and eyebrows to raise when it happened....and something remembered for a very long time. Growing up my older sister Tammy was favored by grandma, which was ironic considering Tammys rebellious streak and penchant for trouble making. I can remember on several occasions when gramma would call her over and pull her onto her lap...for just a few seconds but thats all it took...that contact was a signal that Tammy was about to get a treat (money, a trinket of grammas etc) and Tammy knew it..and soaked it up. Throwing me a look of such superiority that ordinarily I would be jealous...but I wasnt...I knew how she felt about me and knew I would never be asked to sit on her lap. I didnt miss it.


Years later after Tammy was gone little sis took over her spot and could be seen sitting on grammas lap now and then...and receiving some token or bit of money. In all my life I do not recall gramma ever touching me...nor do I remember her ever saying my name. She completely ignored my presence in her house for the most part....except for three occasions that stand out in my mind.


One time I was very bored...there is nothing much to do in a house in which two old people live...and this neighborhood had no children in it...and so I was searching for something to do. Grammas living room (a room she NEVER spent time in except to dust once a week) was like blast from the past. Every bit of furniture and collection of knick knacks in that room remained in exactly the same position for as long as I could remember. Nothing ever changed...nothing was ever thrown out or moved. The same furniture...the same books on the shelf...the same picture of JFK was on the wall for as long as I could remember. Nobody ever really sat in there except to watch TV...and she didnt like the TV to be on all that much so it was off most of the time as well. You learned quick when being in grammas house not to touch things...move things...or even show interest in things...she had her eye on every last object in her house and took inventory often.


Out of extreme boredom and in an act of desperation (mom had gone out with my aunt for several hours...I was alone with gramma that day) I entered the sitting room and pulled a book from her shelf. It was a very old copy of Tom Sawyer. I sat in a chair and read the whole thing in about 2 hours (I have always been a quick reader). When I finished I placed the book back on the shelf and went about my day. Unknown to me gramma had quickly noticed me entering the sitting room and had been complaining the whole time (most of her complaining was done as if she were talking to herself...not necessarily directed at anyone...but loud enough so we knew she was hot about something). As soon as my mother arrived she was hit with an onslaught of accusations that I had "tore up" the sitting room...I had "gotten into everything"...and I had probably "damaged" her book. Mom defended me telling gramma that I was very respectful and wouldnt hurt anything etc...but later on she kicked my butt telling me I knew better than to antagonize gramma over her things. Its just the way things were...sigh. I never touched anything in grammas house again if I could help it.


Another time Mom, gramma, grandpa and I went somewhere (a very rare occasion for them to both be in the same car as I recall) and I sat in the backseat with grandpa. When we arrived I chose to stay outside in the car with grandpa rather than go inside the house and visit some "old lady" who was sick. The entire time they were in the house...gramma stood near the door and kept her eye on the both of us outside (I didnt realize this at the time of course)...and on the way home she complained loud and long about me (in an indirect fashion)...wondering why I preferred sitting in the car with HIM...what did I do while sitting there...how could mom just let me sit there...it went on and on until we reached home. Her complaining from one side...mom and grandpa telling her to shut up from the other...I never said a word because I didnt understand why she was so mad at me. I hadnt done anything but sit in the car and talk with grandpa to pass the time...sigh.


The last incident was actually the last time I visited my grandparents home as a teen. I had been suffering an incredibly bad headache for much of the day. I had gone to Mom asking if she had any Tylenol...she told me to go ask gramma as she had a bottle somewhere. Of course I didnt. I couldnt bring myself to ask her for anything...I could barely bring myself to speak to her since she had spent my entire life either ignoring me or complaining about me. I suffered a few more hours hoping it would go on its own. It didnt.


I went back to mom, who at this point was in a very bad mood (I dont recall what was going on but do remember she was very mad about something)...and when I asked her she exploded at me to just "go and ask YOUR GRAMMA"...so I went...with a heavy heart and trepidation. Of course it didnt go well. I do believe it was the first time in my life that I directed a request to her...asked her for something...wanted something from her...she didnt take it well. From the moment I asked for some Tylenol she went on a rant about how I was "using up her medication" and she would be "left with nothing and she was an old woman" and how I was "inconsiderate to take her medication when I could get my own"...and similar complaints.


I slunk away to a dark room and laid down hoping the headache would go away with some rest. It didnt. Mom found me an hour later in tears, grabbing my head and unable to open my eyes the pain was so severe. She asked me if I had taken any pain pills. I hesitated...then told her gramma had not given me any.


All Hell broke loose that day. Before an hour had passed our bags were packed and we were headed back home....but not before mom had let gramma have it about making me suffer rather than give me 2 little Tylenol...gramma went on her rant and they went round and round until we were slamming doors and headed down the driveway. I didnt see gramma again until 6 years ago while visiting my family in Texas (she and my older sis passed away a year later within weeks of each other...a double blow for my mother)...I never seen my grandpa again. He passed away the first year I was in Bahrain. The last image of my grandpa was him standing in the driveway with tears in his eyes waving goodbye...because he felt as if this would be our last visit for awhile considering gramma had done her best to run us off for good this time. 2 years later I was in Bahrain and he passed away.

*to be continued. I will talk about my grandpa and our relationship.

Make Over Contest...Everyone Take a Look

Rules for Isabella Snow's July blog makeover contest! Entering is easy! Just copy and paste this (entire) blurb to your blog (make sure the links still work!) and then email Isabella a link to your blog post. The contest deadline is at midnight GMT July 31. One winner will be selected the following day by a drawing of names; the name will be posted here; and the winner will be emailed, as well. A new, totally original blog will be completed within two weeks of winning. One entry per blog. *Blogger.com customization only*, see the Blogbunnie Blog Design portfolio for layout options.Good luck!xx Isabella
Posted by Isabella Snow on 7/01/2009