Tag Archives: observations

Huggable with an armful of Niche Sympathy

Posted on by

huggingSometimes those who blog inadvertently become ‘authorities’ on certain subject matters by what they write. Now moi, me, El Rebeccason, who writes random nonsense and who is lacking a niche, blogging identity and official technorati category is the least likely person to earn authority on anything. Normally, I’m just not that kind of girl.

However, it seems my wee little blog, one entry only, is rising to the top of google search terms about hugging and I’m not sure what to do with the hug responsibility.

Lets look at the inquires ~As a google refresher, the words in pink are the verbatim search term………

Pullman, Washington arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for is it good to be a huggable man?.
Arlington, Texas arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for I rarely hug..
Toronto, Ontario arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for hugs and pressing cheeks.
Waynesboro, Tennessee arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for do like when men hug you or is it to personal breasts.
Staten Island, New York arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for ass stuck out hug.
Santee, California arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for man who asks for a hug and then is cold and stiff.
Pearl River, New York arrived from google.com on “When did huggable become social grace? « Provocation Of Mine (d)” by searching for breasts pressing hugs.
And so on and so on and so on………………………..

I should write a book and become a leading authority on the art of hugging. I know what it feels like when you would rather sprint to the nearest dentist (and god knows I hate the dentist) than get trapped by snake arms, or I could publish an e-book about how not to stick ones ass out when ensnared in anothers arms. I’ve lived on both sides of the hugging coin since I was first a hug resistant cringer and second I’ve been in ‘learn to embrace the hug’ training.

When I look at the search terms my heart really does go out to people. I realize those that hug naturally probably have no idea what the big deal is because they can swoop in like hug angels and embrace anything with a pulse and radiate love and emotions while smiling a mile wide. Some of us weren’t born with the hug skills, we freeze up like a glacier ice pack. We actually have to consciously work at it…

It seems people used to work on their hand shake. Whats wrong with the hand shake? I’m good with those, no issues, no fears, nice firm grasp, great eye contact, friendly smile, and respectable shake. If I had a vote in this matter I would absolutely make hand shaking the renewed sensation and hugging so last year, but I don’t and it does appear hugging is the new social rage. Time to embrace the uncomfortable ye huggophobics.

As for those examples of search terms, it’s future google travelers lucky day, I’ll answer those questions because I am a proxy authority, one who has walked the barren lands of hug dodging and arm ducking.
1) is it good to be a huggable man?. YES! Specifically with your lady and children. As for everyone else, only a few men can carry the full time huggable persona without becoming a touchy feelie leech. Don’t cross the fine line ~
2) I rarely hug. No one should hold this against you. Hugging, although a social rave, is not mandatory~
3) hugs and pressing cheeks Both? I’d say, only by accident or with someone I’d take a bullet for ~
4) do like when men hug you or is it to personal breasts This sentence reads like you tossed in the breast potential as an afterthought. I think it depends on the huggable man. Some men convey comfort while others seem to delight in the zero space suffocation style. Simply put, if he grabs your ass, smack em, he’ll love it ~
5) ass stuck out hug HA!! SEE!! I’m not the only one. You have come to sympathetic lands here dear wayward traveler. If you want to avoid the ass stuck out to the West or East coast maneuver, you must remain upright. No unhinging at the hips. It’s very uncomfortable and allows for meshed bodies, but if you can remain locked at the hips, I’m told the quality of the hug goes up tenfold. Deep air intake helps ~
6)man who asks for a hug and then is cold and stiff. Don’t hold it against him! He could be locked at the hips like the prior example, he could be attempting not to come across as a leech, he could be untrained in the art of hugging (ok maybe he doesn’t like you, but try the prior justifications out first)~
7) breasts pressing hugs Unavoidable without the ass stuck out maneuver which I hear deducts major huggability points off your hug quality rating. I’ve learned to just go with it, I suggest, go with the flow, let them press. Unlocking your shoulders and hunching them forward helps a bit on the breast protection front. If the hug is for another lady she won’t care, if it’s for a guy, it just might be the highlight of his day. Who knows….

(((((This Hug is for You)))))

Some People Are Not Every People

Posted on by

First, I would like to thank, BIG THANK YOU, all the people who visited my last entry and went over to Heathers to comment for a cause. I was beyond thrilled, heart warmed and excited by the response. Thank You so much!
~~~~~~~~

peaceSometimes it’s a public incident that gets feathers ruffled and a blanket outcry of generalization happens…For example, Kanye West and his most memorable stage performance, ever, Swiftly evolved into “where have manners gone, people have become so rude, kids haven’t been raised with morals and America is in decline.” OH Hello, say again? A spoiled, rude rapper who has always been so full of himself you can practically smell the stench of shit on his nose as a result of  having his head up his own arse, is the yardstick of humanity? I beg to differ.

Ok, so some people might bring up the tennis match temper tantrum or the (extremely out of line) liar moment. I’ll agree, those are also examples of two more people displaying bad manners. But what I refuse to concur with is that all people are therefore guilty by assosication because we live in the same country as these people. Alright, alright, I know there are other examples of rudeness (ugliness,vileness, badness etc) out there. And?

I still believe people, the majority of people, are wonderful. To believe otherwise would be purchasing into a general assumed consensus (lemming effect) and getting in line for that thought process would be like lining up for an infectious disease shot. Here’s a dose of Swine Flu, enjoy, it’s the current popular trend……to which I say, thank you for offering generalization, but no thank you~ See how easy it is to display good manners?

Not all people generalize, and I’m happy to say I personally know more people who don’t participate in sweeping assumptions than those that do. I consider that further proof not all people are every people. I do know someone who is a chronic generalizer and it drives me crazy. He makes ‘all people have gone to hell’ remarks on a regular basis and I take it upon myself to argue every single sweep he makes. The way I see it, if I didn’t fight it, his ideas…the type that circled around the West/Swift episode saying Ah Ha! See! Everyone is rude these days! it would become an epidemic.

Him: Did you see that?! People are so rude!
Me: No, not all people are rude, that person was rude.

Him: I hate watching the news, it’s all murder and crime. This world has gone to hell.
Me: No, the world hasn’t gone to hell, but those two people should.

Him: Did you see that kid? Kids are selfish and spoiled these days.
Me: Are you saying mine are? Or so and so? Or so and so, or so and so? That one child was having a bad moment.
Him: No, not yours, but most are.
Me: You insult my children and millions of other wonderful kids with your first statement.

Him: No one reads books anymore, it’s all about TV and Internet.
Me: I read books, I know you read books, so why do say ‘no one,’ it makes you sound ignorant.

The way I see it, something can apply to someone somewhere. But nothing is everything to everyone. Words have immeasurable power and casually using broad statements like, “Everyone, all people, no one, all of them, people are, etc.” perpetuates assumptions, giving strength to negative generalization and I deplore that sort of movement.

Just something to consider today~

Or, if that was too heavy and you were hoping for a bit of laughter and light banter, I will give you this. Last weeks hands down winning Google search to stumble upon my blog.
 ”"how to convert a whoring mentality into a wholesome wife mentality?”"
~I hope whoever she/he was, found solid inspiration and wifey wisdom within my blog pages~

Blog Trolls, Moles and Sad Souls

Posted on by

I’ve done the blogging gig for over 5 years. If we equate that amount of time in true blog years, that basically makes me an elderly blog grannie with saggy socks and crazy hair who can be found taking frequent blog naps. I am also the old blog who is set in her ways with a wicked amount of blog observation under her browser. I’ve seen the good, the bad, the ugly and the beautiful. At this point nothing can surprise me, however, that doesn’t mean I don’t get cranky sometimes……..

I can honestly say that over the years I’ve avoided all things blog ‘drama’ and or negative 98.1% of the way. Basically, the secret to my sauce is avoidance, neutral involvement and maintaining a semi-detached version of myself up for public offerings. I also find people I enjoy and visit occasionally and if I don’t like someone I move along, never to visit again. (side note: and sometimes I really do like a person, but still lose touch with them)Pretty simple concept.

The few negative comments or emails I’ve received over the years pretty much made me 1) laugh 2) ignore with mild annoyance 3) think WTF (hello insane Internet neighbor) 4) get reasonably pissed or 5) deal with the interruptions like fallen lint off the ass end of a pesky blog fly that gets vacuumed up.

I wish I could understand the motivations of the trolls and moles. I do think they are appropriately named….Those that go hiding behind fake emails, names, proxies and any other slinking underground maneuvers they can sniff up. Such effort! Such time commitment! Such twisted behavior! Such dirty work! And the rewards for all that dirt moving? A reaction! A rebuttal! A response! A blog entry all about them! This is my gift to you. Enjoy.

I would think that if a persons highlight of the day is to 1) try to provoke negativity 2) ruin a persons day 3) smear another persons name 4) stir the proverbial pot or 5) flick lint off their ass on another persons carpet—-they need to seriously take a deep breath. They need to think really long and really hard about what they are trying to accomplish and what in the hell is personally wrong within because good people generally don’t get off on hurting others.

If you are a mole troll, might I suggest considering–Would your Mother be proud of your mole holes? What would your children think of Mom slithering around the Internet inserting negativity onto other peoples world. Or how about this, what would your wife or husband think if the authorities showed up at your house for harassment? Think about explaining that one to your family…..

A little hint here for those living in lala land~ the Internet isn’t so anonymous anymore, your hole can be discovered with a few hound dogs and a couple of shovels. Thats the smell of your trail. Despite your fake everything, please comprehend this—You still leave a trail of shit droppings.

Now, with those thoughts out of the way I’d like to address a few specific individuals of the lint nature.

Ruby Tuesday ~ If I wanted an opinion about someone I consider a friend, I would have publicly asked for one. I didn’t, so that makes your intrusion on my blog spewing ridiculous personal opinion a deplorable act of immature mole behavior. You gave your opinion, so here’s mine.

I suggest you take a hard look at why you would want to slander someone, then wrap your warped motivations around a mirror and take a good look at yourself. Usually the things you think you see in others, the things you may be inclined to outwardly attack, are the exact things you deplore about yourself, tis the human nature of an insecure soul. Lets face it, you’re the one actively slandering someone beyond their borders. That would make you the creepy snail trail. You wrote ~  ”Rebecca, why is it you support Heather so much..” There is an easy answer to that question. I’ve accepted her as a friend and in that choice, I accept everything about her. Your opinion is beyond irrelevant to me.  Now kindly fuck off.

To the person who has their panties in a wad over my comment activities let me just say this. First email (beyond the cheap shots) I could have slightly respected. “You are not commenting !! on Rebeccas blog!! anymore!!” Cool, I’m down with that! I’m fairly certain my blog will go on without your interaction or expectations….just saying…

Second email, ok, you made your point, relax, take a laxative and a yoga class.
Third email, I’m starting to think you need to seriously consider a new life goal beyond counting comments, but whatever, if it twirls your skirt.
Fourth email…I suggest you slowwwwly walk awayyyyy from the computer. Your slim thread of any remaining logic is hanging precariously close to the edge of comment count hell. I hear in that hell NO ONE ever EVER comments. Life as you know it will be one entry after another and no comments for you! It will be all my fault of course, but I’ll manage to live with it.  

I read your shallow thought process (rants and sniveling), however, I must say, this blog grannie isn’t changing anything about the way I do things because you have a wedgie. I for one don’t play the tit-for-tat, obligation ridden mentality of comment back scratching… No thank you. I do pity the people who may be commenting in your blog. You should put a disclaimer on your homepage “warning, if you comment once here and I comment in your blog twice I will go mole whacky because our comment balance is off”~~ move along little mole. Pour a new bowl of Cheerios. Life is short. Tomorrow may never come. Grab a rainbow. Dance naked in the moonlight. Then find a comment support group, asap…..kisses and love oh so strange one.

The Age of Perspective

Posted on by

This weekend while strolling around an art festival arm in arm with two wonderful men (aren’t I the smart gal) I ran into the Mother of an old, old, haven’t talked to old friend in 18 years, sort of blast from my past. Now usually if I spot anyone that is from R-BC (Rebecca Before Children) I run the opposite direction like a doe running from a wolf of memories, but I shocked myself in a moment of brazen curiosity and walked up to old friends Mom.  I must have left a lingering impression because she remembered me, and it must have been a decent impression because she didn’t gasp, “Oh noooooooo not you!” (and run the opposite direction with her fingers in her ears) Instead, she was very friendly and instantly called me by my R-BC name ~ Becky.

We talked for some time, catching up, filling in the years of what I’ve been up too and this sweet Mom, catching me up on her daughters world. What struck me, and has lingered since Saturday is the huge difference in my life compared to my old friend. I have two children, old friend is thinking about having kids soon. I’ve been married twice, she’s never married. She lived out the country for 10 years, I’ve never broke past the borders of Idaho. My oldest daughter is the same age R-BC and old friend hung out last. Hello time warp……..

Kaitlyn & Shelby

Kaitlyn & Shelby 1st day of School 2009

We are the same age, yet, our lives that once mirrored one another are so far removed, universes apart and our realities only share the common thread of past memories. When I got home Saturday evening I pulled up the picture of my two daughters and their first day of school this year. When I was 19 years old I had a baby and that baby is now 17 years old and a Senior in High School. Time in a vice grip.

Since the day, the very second I moved out of my parents home with a baby on my hip, I have lived life firmly attached to parenthood and adulthood responsibilities. I never experienced life apart from my parents and solely responsible for myself and myself alone like my old friend. Yes, to this day, I wonder what could have been, where I would have gone, what I could have done if I hadn’t poured such precious concrete around my future.

I don’t believe what I feel is regret, but rather the occasional discreet glances over my shoulder at turning points. I am human and not to glance occasionally would be downright inhuman —right? For me a very profound defining moment happened one month after I turned 19 and it wasn’t the sex, it was the baby it created. The moment of conception is when my path in life took a hard left and I was shuffled off the learn solitary independence path my friends were on and I lined up, single file, on the fast track to caring for another, 24/7.

This subject, my reality and past is itchy grass to sit down in. Sometimes I observe my girls and wonder if they realized what I gave up for them, not just in my youth, but other path choices over the years, if they would pity me, feel unwarranted guilt or understand my love and what I thought was best for them superseded anything I could have gifted myself. I’ll never know because they will never know. Unnecessary truths and admissions can create burdens no innocent soul should carry. I see no need to ever go there…….

I’ve planned a meeting with my old friend. I look forward to absorbing her stories and her view of the world around her. I’ll look at it as a foggy confirmation or disenchantment of what could have been and in return, I’ll share with her what life having children out the gate of teenage-hood has gifted and shown me. Maybe we’ll look at each other and feel so disconnected it will be the last time we talk. Perhaps we’ll click like we once did and simply enjoy our different life perspectives. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll both envy a piece of what each other has had or has now and together we can thread a common connection once again.

On the bright side, when I do find myself slipping over the shoulder glances at where I’ve been I can straighten up, look forward and because of my past, I’m like totally in the homestretch of having children home 24/7 and at the age of 37 I couldn’t even comprehend, fantasize or swallow having a baby at this age. Hell—oooo Noooo to the double O.

What I really appreciate about perspective is that it has a nice resounding bitch slap when you need it the most~

A Hazy Shade of Lavender

Posted on by

 

108I’m not sure what it’s like for other people. I can’t say what their dark place of mental residence is decorated with or smells like. I don’t know how it tastes or how much it weighs on their shoulders. I do know it’s a place other people go.

I’m not sure if I can, or should, explain my personal brand of Lavender Black. There isn’t a map to show how I surrender to such a place, or how I eventually find my way back. It simply, happens.

I can say that naming my dark is an act of conventional word defiance. It’s my personal perspective; the condition may be ordinary, but I can name it and decorate it any way I please. Lavender Black isn’t a desirable destination, but it is a place. My place. It’s quiet there and the deeper I wander in, the fact is, the less I participate in the world around me.

Typically, I can still write while meandering through such a space of individual seclusion. Some of my best writing has originated from time spent in my lavender realm, but sometimes, I move past the threshold of expression and the result is silence. It’s where I’ve been these last few weeks, beyond the green fields and purple flowers. In this version, I walked deep into the black parts of Lavender and disappeared for awhile.

Going to Lavender Black is easy enough, coming back proves difficult. There’s something sadly comfortable about suffocating in a zone meant only for single occupancy. It’s a self indulgent territory dripping with familiarity and knowing. If there’s one place that covets a thousand reasons for being dark and twisty, it’s the back room in my mind that collects life’s little black trinkets like a chemically imbalanced pack rat.

Surface maintenance. That’s how I handle day to day reality when I’ve gone off into my place of silence. When a body is in trouble, it has the ability to shut off functions to everything but the vitals. I’ve fined tuned that perspective when it comes to the dark side of my personality. Vitals=Family and that’s the scope of my selective interactions during Lavender Black spells.

Either people will understand this about me, or they won’t. It’s nothing personal. Never has been. I understand that it isn’t easy to accept or understand, not when people interact and depend on feedback/input from one another. My occasional shut downs go against the human nature rules of engagement and I realize I always run the risk of hurting the feelings of other people when I dissolve into myself. Regrettably, my only recourse is to try and pick up the pieces once I’ve came back.

I’m not sure it serves any purpose by writing about this, here, publicly, other then disclosure. But it is who I am. A part of me, one I find both interesting and challenging. Just as I observe the world around me, it’s important I spend time observing my interior workings, the beautiful, the black and the unexplainable…….