Guest Blogger – How Stella DIDN’T get her groove back

Last week I totally forgot about posting a Guest Blogger post….my mind was elsewhere so I apologize. This weeks post comes from someone who is very special to me, she has done the dating scene way too many times to keep count and has many stories of failed relationships under her belt. When I first read her contribution I could only laugh because I remember “The Youngin” all too well. It was her first experience with being the older woman and if my memory serves me right, it was her last. (well if you don’t consider her brief summer tryst with the twenty-one year old hottie with the tongue ring)

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Let me take you back fourteen years ago

“Your sister can’t take a joke…..I got on her for double dipping and she took me seriously” He said laughing.

It was obvious that I wasn’t made out to be a matchmaker because my recent attempt to set my sister up with someone who had a career and a good head on his shoulders just went bust. She didn’t feel the love connection and mentioned that what he thought was funny, simply wasn’t.  “The Youngin” had a unique sense of humor, heck we got along so I thought he would be great for my sister considering they were around the same age, plus I was dating his roommate Andy who constantly reminded me how other women thought he looked like “Tom Cruise”….. “I don’t see it”, I’d constantly say.  Needless to say, me and “Tom Cruise” went bust as well.

My failed attempt to set my sister up with this young career minded twenty year old had a bit of a twist, the twist being that our innocent friendship turned into a relationship. I actually never saw it coming because I was six years older than him, divorced with children. Who knew he fancied older women?

He says our first kiss was at my house, I don’t remember. He says he asked permission before we had sex, I don’t remember that either. I’ll blame old age for these moments of forgetfulness.

I know that I really fell for “The Youngin” but that’s what he was, young. He had his whole life ahead of him and I knew that I wasn’t going to be part of his future, signs began to show themselves eight months into our relationship. Talks about moving to Colorado were more frequent, he planned to move to Colorado with his best friend to be part of the ski patrol. He would go to parties and head to bars without me, women would come to his apartment of course to hang out with his roommate but being an “experienced” woman I saw what he didn’t see…I saw the flirting,I saw the flirting with the women HIS age.

Jealousy and of course my insecurity raged it weary head . I remembered all too well the years I spent married to a man who lied, “flirted” and cheated. Somewhere in my head I wasn’t going to be a victim, I wasn’t going to allow this guy who had my heart to end up breaking it and of course breaking ME. It already hurt to see him socialize with his crowd, it hurt that I wasn’t part of his plans any longer,but why would I be?  “No one is going to want you when you have been divorced and have two kids” is what whispered to me while I watched on while standing in the doorway.  The man I had fallen for  was inching closer to the young brunette on the couch, laughing….her fingers inching close to his leg. He was oblivious but I knew her game. It was that night I shut down …..It was that night the wall came up,it was that night I said “two can play at this game” as I glanced down at the promise ring he had just given to me a few months earlier.

I started to go out with my co-workers,if he could play with his friends, so could I. Shit, I never claimed to be very wise at that age and looking back now that was a very dumb way to look at things. Honestly, I knew eventually he would leave me and live his well deserved life.I didn’t want to be alone, single and thirty (although 30 was a long ways away) so what better way to cope then to find a replacement.

That I did …………

In my heart the youngin and I were already over . He was moving on, he was leaving that winter. We were just playing a part. Wasting each others time and maybe somewhere I was hoping he would choose me instead of Colorado.

(The last evening) He said he had come over to bring me a gift, I don’t remember any gift. I remember we weren’t talking….I remember arguing with him over the phone, telling him not to come over. I remember not caring. The wall was up and I was hurt.

I called “Fill in” guy earlier that evening, we went out, drank….came back to my house.”Fill in” guy was my drug of choice to help me get over The Youngin. There was a knock at my door…(I didn’t answer) …it was The Youngin, he tried my garage door (it was locked). I remember being scared. All I remember from the night is that I called the cops. The wall was up. I was hurt….ING. “Fill-in guy” left the next morning.

Things were never the same with “The Youngin” and I after that. He said we stayed together for a while after. I remember nothing after that night.

Years later

“Move here with me” He said.

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I had been through too much. I no longer used “fill-ins”,I was already thirty. I was a mess. He deserved better, someone without all the drama, sadness and darkness. I was beaten down by endless heartbreaks and what I needed to do was get a handle on myself.

“We can start over, date” he said.

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I shut down. The wall came up. He wasn’t going to get back in. No man was ever going to hurt me again.

Years later (present day)

“I know I didn’t mean much to you back then just by how you recalled our relationship, thank you for the insight. Friends is what we will be”, he said.

He didn’t get it of course, he meant something to me. Not in the way he would have liked, but I respected him. If I hadn’t then during my dark days I would have moved in with him, played him because I could, I would have pretended to be someone who I wasn’t just so I could be with someone. I could have reverted back to bad habits and made him “Fill-in” Guy 2.0; a newer version of the men I used to choose to heal the wounds of my brokenness. I chose not to. I chose to beat the darkness on my own.

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Today’s Guest Blogger – My Daughter, Ann (there was no bribing involved)

I am so happy about today’s Guest Blogger because she is my nineteen year old daughter, Ann. No, there was no bribing involved or threats………well I take that back, I did “threaten” to change the Barnes and Nobles password if she didn’t get this post to me on time. I know….I’m so mean!  

Ann loves to write and I thought this would give her the opportunity to share her short stories or her opinion on something that matters to her, never in a million years did I think she would choose to write about …………..me. 

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My mother and I have one of the best mother and daughter relationships there is. I consider her a best friend and a momma! I go to her for about almost everything, from the latest family gossip and daughter issues..to what her cat brought home at 6 am! She will always come to my need whenever I need my mother and not just as a best friend.. (which every girl needs!!)…But it wasn’t always all so hunky dory like it is now! And that’s where my story begins.   😉

I have bits and pieces that I remember about my mom as a little girl, most of them involved me getting in trouble hahaha I wasn’t always the innocent little angel my amazing mother writes about ;)–  i have always been the rebellious child! I was always running around at the age of 3 making my mom tear her hair out! She would try to spank me with a wooden spoon and i would laugh at her because it didn’t hurt! (yea i was a little brat! haha) But she still stood her ground with me as much as she could haha, taking me to the hospital countless times– because i had a fascination with sticking lint and fabric softener sheets up my nose! (THEY SMELLED GOOD!), she would care for my wounds with frozen peas and reward me with our favorite ice cream cones! She was my protector against monsters under my bed (i never slept in my room.. i always somehow made my way into the living room to sleep next to her on the sofa).. i was her backup singer every time a Shania Twain song came on through the radio. Though i was an evil little brat towards her all the time, she (being the mother she is) took care of me and my 2 other siblings to the best of her ability.

As you may already know from her past blogs, due to money issues and other complications, she had my siblings and myself move away to california with my dad. I will always remember that day i left, she was strong! I don’t even remember her crying! Though, at the time i didn’t know i was going to be moving away for good, i knew she wasnt going to be coming with us. And it was sad, because i was loosing my mother! And in a 4 yr olds mind that was a HUGE deal! She stayed strong for us that day, and assured me that we were going to have fun!.. Yes, that trip was a fun one, but over the next few years I barely ever got to see her that much.

Growing up, I won’t lie I felt abandoned by my mom because i did not know why she had to make the decision she did. It was hard at times, but i was with my dads family and times were good! I was part of a military family and moved and traveled a lot, so i knew we wouldn’t always see her. We would call each other, i would share secrets with her like mother and daughter, and we would see each other when we got the chance and money, but it wasnt until we moved back into the same town together did we rekindle our relationship.

I was just starting out in highschool when we moved near each other, and like any girl, i definitely needed my mother through those years. I grew closer to her, and shared secrets about boys and other girly things. We would have Sex and The City marathons! Read twilight together when i was going through that phase haha. She became my work out partner! We did EVERYTHING together. Yes we had many many many fights where we butted heads and exchanged some pretty nasty comments, but those really didn’t last long– due mainly to the fact that we loved to gossip and laugh and be with each other.

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Yes, our mother/daughter relationship didn’t sit well with some people — they felt like there should be a fine line to what mother and daughters should act like with each other. We should not share clothes, hang out as much as we did, talk about the things we did, or even confide in the stuff we did. BUT, we didn’t pay attention to their opinions hahaha because we were happy and best friends!!! She stood by me when there was no one else to stand by me, when I was all alone and had no money when i moved to college, she would call me and send me care packages and money when had nothing! My mom has been there for me through thick and thin, and my teammate when i was ganged up on. She has been the one person I confide in, my bestfriend, my gossip buddy haha, and most of all my mother!

I am blessed to have her by my side (though we live states apart), and no matter what people may think i am blessed to have such an amazing relationship with her.She has been through hell and back, not just with dealing with me, but with her life itself. AND I LOVE HER GUTS MORE THAN ANYTHING EVER! 🙂

~ Ann

I hope you enjoyed today’s post………..see there is hope out there for those parents who are at their wits end with their rumbustious child or rebellious teen. There is a silver lining………there will come a time when the lightbulb will come on and they will realize that you are in fact not the “worst parent ever”. For those of you that want to read  a little bit more on why I made very difficult decision for my kids to live with my ex-husband (their father) you can read about it here:

1. Open letter to my twenty something self  

2. Knowing what I know now 

I hated to read how my daughter felt abandoned and although we worked through that throughout the years it still pains me to read because I know that my ex-husband and his family played a huge part with telling my children that I “didn’t want them anymore” or “couldn’t handle them” which was so far from the truth. Again, I hope you take the time to read the links above. 

Guest Blogger – It’s not what it seems

Today’s post comes from a blogger who is honest about his daily struggles, who is committed to his faith and well…..you think I put myself out there he exposes himself like no other. His blog is a full admission of his day to day inner battles……..Topaz I admire your honesty. I am happy to share the lighter side of your life as seen in this post.

I hope you all enjoy!!

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I went to a newly-opened branch of a haircut franchise recently. It’s a place that I never intended to set foot inside: Knockouts. It didn’t necessarily have to do with my faith; I just didn’t want to go. Maybe I felt I was too old, like being caught leafing through an issue of Maxim at the grocery store, or maybe because I was an awkward teenager who was intimidated by beautiful cheerleader-types.

To be honest, my wife, Ayako, is the one that made me go to Knockouts.  Seriously.  She is a major coupon-clipper (nothing wrong with that since we survive on a teacher’s salary), and I’m not allowed to get my hair cut unless my wife has a coupon, which means I end up going to podunk mom-and-pop barbers in our small Texas town. I guess it’s because they’re the ones who need business the most and put out coupons with the best deals.

Barber shops are not good for people like me who dislike chit-chat.  It’s not uncommon for me to spend an hour in the chair; not because I have a lot of hair, but because the homely, bubble gum-chewing stylist starts complaining to the others about how the neighbor’s dog keeps pooping on her daisies. Before I know it, all the other stylists are chiming in with their own problems which almost always include men.

That’s why I was so surprised when my wife handed me a FREE coupon (first-time customers only) for Knockouts.  I thought it was a trap: As soon as I grabbed the coupon, air-raid sirens would go off, signaling the beginning of Ayako’s three-day silent treatment.

“Isn’t this the Hooters-style haircut place?” I said with just the right amount of naiveté.

“Yep.  Full of hot women.”

There was no sarcastic tone in Ayako’s voice. She’s from Japan, a nation which features the annual Festival of the Steel Phallus, so I wasn’t necessarily blindsided by her statement.

“Um, don’t you have any other coupons?”  I was getting anxious by then. I hated small talk, especially when life-sized Barbies and macho, drooling frat boys were involved. Flashbacks from high school filled my panic-stricken mind.

“No. None that are 100% off like this. “

That’s my wife.  She’d rather send me to be pampered for free by a harem of sorority girls than have me pay a whopping $9.99 at Texas Star Barber Shop down on Main Street.

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So I nervously made my way to Knockouts.  Never having been to Hooters due to my shy, reserved nature, I was afraid that my motor skills would break down and reduce me to a babbling idiot; or worse, I would accidentally glance at the wrong part of the stylist’s anatomy and get my ear gouged as payback.

There wasn’t much to worry about, though.

I don’t know if it was false advertising or just that the company had a hard time recruiting beauty queens in such a small town, but when I entered, it was completely silent and devoid of people.  Not even a sports game was playing on one of the big TVs.

A short, skinny girl who looked like she was skipping a day of junior high school greeted me.  She was wearing a t-shirt that was hanging on her like a camping tent.  Her black shorts were indeed short, but, compared with the girls that cruise the mall on weekends, the stylist’s shorts resembled my dearly-departed grandma’s britches.

The girl gave me an awkward, curt smile that clearly said, I know I look ridiculous, and you know I look ridiculous, so let’s just do this and be done with it, ‘k?

“Hi. My name is Opal, and I’ll be your stylist for today,” she said with the enthusiasm of a Walmart customer service employee.

Opal?! You gotta be kiddin’ me. No one has named their daughter Opal since the 19th century. It sounds like a Amish stripper’s name.

“Mind if I turn this on?” she said, not giving me a chance to respond as she flipped on Country Music Television at maximum volume.

Oh yeah, the coupon that my wife gave me mentioned free beer and massage.  There were no beverages in sight, however.

“Uh, the ad mentioned free beer,” I said like a dork.

“Ad?”

“Yeah, the coupon.”

Oh, great. Why did I have to say that? Now she’s going to do a crappy job since she knows I’m not paying full-price.

“No, sorry.  We don’t have any beer.”

Okaaay.  I wasn’t about to mention the massage.

Opal proceeded to lecture me on the history of our small Texas town since her family has been in the area for generations.  I learned about the year that Safeway first came to town and also how Opal’s grandmother was a star basketball player in high school, but, since I hate chit-chat, I just let her go on and on; I almost pretended to fall asleep.

As Opal was finishing up, I heard the front door open.  Wonder what kind of perv just came in?

As I walked to the register to pay, I saw who it was: a plain-looking housewife and her kid.  So much for stereotypes.

A month later, another Knockouts coupon was waiting for me on the kitchen counter.  This one was for returning clients.

I sighed.  Maybe they would have that free beer next time.

~t

Want to be my Guest Blogger ?

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Thank you to those of you who submitted a post….I loved them and can’t wait to share your creativity with everyone!!

It’s not too late to submit a post though ………. I know sometimes a subject is totally off limits to post on your own blog, so you are more than welcomed to submit it to me and I will post it here!!

You can write about anything (within reason)……you know that I am a “pretty much say what’s on my mind” kinda gal.  I want to make Thursday the day I share the work of a Guest Blogger, so if you are interested send me your post to valleygirlgonecountry@gmail.com.

Hope to hear from you soon!!

 

Want to be a Guest Blogger?

guestblogger

You can write about anything (within reason)……you know that I am a “pretty much say what’s on my mind” kinda gal.  I want to make Thursday the day I share the work of a Guest Blogger, so if you are interested send me your post to valleygirlgonecountry@gmail.com.

Hope to hear from you soon!!

Jolene

Love, Phenotypes, Baseball Magic, and “Soul Mates” – Guest Blogger

Earlier this week I wrote about Soul mates and I had several bloggers share their thoughts on the subject which I am very grateful for their assistance…..there was one who I knew would take  the subject of Soul Mates to another level and I would like to share her view on the subject. Thank you Aly for taking sometime out of your busy busy schedule to be my guest blogger! for those that maybe  wondering where the link it to her blog is, she is on hiatus from blogging for a while…that is why I am thankful for her to take this time to write for me. I really enjoyed her views on life,relationships and let me just say this ……she’s smart….she’s like Bernadette and Amy smart but Penny beautiful. Hope you enjoy !!

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What is love? Love is an intangible emotion. It is a feeling. It means something different and feels different to each individual. Each person is a product of both biology and cultural factors and experience. No two people have the exact same combination of the three; therefore, it is impossible to declare exactly what love is beyond the fact that the feeling of it begins chemically in our bodies, that spark we feel. It is chemistry, literally. Our hormones rage, our endorphin’s get involved, and the rest is history.

In evolutionary history, the phenotype of emotion (tenderness, love, compassion) was selected for. A phenotype is an observable trait of an organism. For example, morphology, development, physiological and biochemical properties, behavior and the products of behavior are all phenotypes. This observable behavior is coded for genetically in our genotype, Deoxyribonucleic acid.

One must conclude that the concept of emotions, such as love, had an evolutionary advantage to the human species. This is what makes us sociable creatures. Let’s face it. No matter how much animosity, hatred, and anger we exhibit for one another, we are still sociable creatures. As one anthropologist, a professor of mine, put it, try placing 200 Capuchin monkeys in one small area with no food for two hours and see if they can fly in a plane for hours without biting each other.

Love must serve some sort of purpose regarding species fitness. Reproduction? Probably not. I doubt dung beetles have emotions such as love, yet they still reproduce. The idea of cooperative makes the most sense to me. Humans banded together in hunting and gathering, they banded together for cooperative; therefore, those with the emotional phenotype, those able to make emotional connections to people, would have more successful reproduction and would pass those traits to further generations.

One also must combine history in the search of soul mates. When did monogamy begin for humanity? Most societies practiced polygamy until polytheistic religions developed. The concept of one man and one wife must have something to do with the “Soul Mate” theory. The idea of “Soul Mates” could very well be merely a social construct created by the culture of Judeo-Christian beliefs. Before this, many men had multiple wives; therefore, establishing that the concept of a “Soul Mate” was not always of significance. Humans have survived a millennia without being soul mates.

The other idea is that how do we know someone is our “Soul Mate?” It is only after a successful partnership ending in death that one can confirm someone was one. How many times have you thought you had met your soul mate? I know I have several times. I was only disproven when a relationship fell apart and the male in my life was replaced by another. So are we just “Souls Mates” until it ends? All relationships are doomed to end at some point, be it human error or death.

One must also consider the evolution of women’s rights. Historically, women were unable to divorce their spouses and we forced to deal with cheating spouse, abusive spouse, and everything else. In many points of history, it was just downright illegal for a woman to divorce her spouse. Women have come a long way in the past 100 years. Our culture has evolved along with it. Now, women no longer have to put up with such treatment. Of course, divorce rates will sky rocket once it is socially acceptable for the woman to divorce her spouse. 100 years ago, 50% of the population could not file for divorce. Think about it.

Whenever I hear of stories of people being married 50 plus years, I am reminded that they were married 50 years ago. American culture was completely different than it is today. Divorce was still socially unacceptable. Those women were raised to put up with whatever treatment was offered, that was the culture they grew up in. They grew up with the idea that men make the decisions.

With 7 billion people on the planet, it is rather hard to believe that there is only one perfect person for someone. There are multiple possibilities. There are multiple ways the feeling of love manifests itself. It can be passion based; I had many relationships where the emotions manifested themselves in intense passionately feelings. It can be companionship based; only once have I had a companionship based manifestation of romantic feelings. I desired him, do not get me wrong. It wasn’t the intense “Let’s make love right here and right now before we are consumed by the insanity of unfulfilled desires.” I felt like this person would be an ideal companion, but the feeling was not returned. For him, relationships were less about feelings and more of an idealistic we must match in this, this, and this kind of way. Love means something different to each and every person. I can honestly say that I have loved more than one man. Unfortunately, most relationships are doomed for failure.

Is the concept of a “Soul Mate” something we still delude ourselves with when we fail?  It’s okay; he just wasn’t “The One.” He wasn’t your “Soul Mate.” Is this a comforting notion when we are down and depressed from our latest romantic failure?

Some people say there are “signs” when you meet that special person. I used to believe in signs, until I thought I read them appropriately and got my heart ripped out “Kali Ma” Indiana Jones Temple of Doom style. Thank you, sir. There were many signs I thought were there. Out birthdays are the same, but different months. We met at one point, only to find out later that his best friend is married to one of my friends from high school. We kept randomly walking into each other on campus.

The physiology of our brains forces us to create patterns, much like it forces us to see in binary opposites. We see patterns, we create superstitions from them. We use these patterns in religious rituals. Baseball players are infamous for having ritualized patterned behavior. “Lou Skeins used to reach into his back pocket to touch a crucifix, straighten his cap and clutch his genitals (Gmelch).” There is a whole genre of anthropology just about “Baseball Magic.” We see patterns and we claim “SOUL MATES. IT IS KISMET!” in much of the same way.
Gmelch, George J. “Baseball Magic.” http://www.faulkner.edu/academics/artsandsciences/socialandbehavioral/readings/an/baseball.aspx