Tag Archives: thoughts

Some People Are Not Every People

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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!
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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

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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.

A Hazy Shade of Lavender

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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…….

Terra Incognita

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mpI often spend my time between becoming  lost or figuring out how in the hell I got painfully lost. Lost is the swing space between feeling confidant about direction one day and realizing I’m in uncharted territory the next. Sometimes, there is nothing more thrilling and provoking than not knowing. Whether it be the answer to a question or what is around the next corner in my road. 

Lost doesn’t get the credit it deserves. I believe lost has gotten a bad rap on the whole. Yes, we have lost in the wilderness during a blizzard, where life and death square off. In that capacity, lost is dangerous. I have felt that overwhelming panic before……

But what of lost in a place you know every street sign, every corner, every room. We don’t need to be physically lost to lose sight of our inner purpose and desires.  Everyday I mitigate between ordinary motions, predictable routes and the grandiose of unknown. What am I, but an explorer of my own path in life?

A few souls knew, but most didn’t, that I was extremely lost at the beginning of this year. Sitting in a room of familiar and predictable I was floundering and flailing. That sense of lost was painful and led me down the path to my own Lavender Black. The place inside me of least resistance. It took time, it required talking and communication within myself and the people around me, but I did emerge from that place with a new map in hand, a new direction and full of hope.

I still reside in a swamp of lost. Work that I used to enjoy has become banal and tedious. Beyond money, I can no longer identify purpose and enjoyment in what I feel forced to do now. Time for a radical change. I cannot, will not, be the person who worked away a life doing something that became boring and lacked a sense of achievement. For now, as I wander around, I’ll continue to do my work despite the sense of lost, and actively seek new waterways.

I believe I’ve come to understand that we all have intricate maps within ourselves. Secret roadways and quiet byways that are marked by choices and experience. The only way to chart a new destination is to let ourselves become lost once in awhile. Explorers didn’t know where exactly they would end up, but used general assumptions and hopeful intentions as their compass. I may not know where I am going, but I see ample space marked Terra Incognita on my map. It’s full of opportunity, mystery and possibilities.

Perhaps a healthy dose of lost keeps a mind less stagnant and all of us more aware of our surroundings. Maybe it’s just the right amount of uncomfortable that keeps us charting new destinations. Ultimately, lost has many versions, but unless you are in the middle of a blizzard, one should be able to keep moving, keep changing directions and discovering new landscapes……….

Just my thoughts and admissions for the day~
Rebecca Anne

Exposed Nerves

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Some of you may recall recently, on this blog, that I bowed down to vulnerability and confessed my fears, frights, and phobias. I guess since I didn’t kiss the hem of my fears, pricked my finger and squeezed out some blood to pay homage to the fright demons, I coincidentally cursed myself.

The View From Below

The View From Below

I have broke a back tooth. I must visit my dentist. I am freaking out. I must go crazy, pull my hair out, spin my head upon my spine in an impressive 360 degree show of pain possession and cry like a baby. This turn of events is not good. Not good at all. I blame my blog.

At first I tried to ignore it. I thought, well, it’s a back tooth, no one can see the tragic damage, I can ignore it. I employed mind over matter for a few hours. I smiled a lot, I wiped the drool from my lip and walked around like it was any other day showing great courage in face of the sledgehammer repeatedly slamming the side of my jaw. But those medieval exposed nerves have gotten the better of me. I’d swear at this point in time they are in there having a rip-roaring time zapping me at a rate of 2 radiating pain shocks per 3 second interval. Muther F*in nerves anyway.

If you’re a praying sort, right about now would be a good time. ‘Cept, you should pray for my Dentist. The poor man has been kicked by me, slapped by me, cursed out in the most unholy manner and he’ll need all the strength he can muster for this upcoming experience. Phobia’s have the ability to bring out the worst in the sweet, normally calm, compassionate souls. (that’s me by the way, I swear) Afterward I’ll send a nice “Thank you for torturing me and surviving me” card. It’s called, mutual appreciation of all nerves involved. Exposed and internal.  

Now, it’s time for me to get off the computer. Go take a few swanky painkiller because those little exposed nerves are completely out of control right now. Party is over. They need to feel the righteous hand of Vicodin.