Life

Friday Feelings

Miss Poison Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , ,

givelovetrust

What profound, intelligent things can I say today? I won’t give myself that much credit as my thoughts are scattered at the moment, but hey, it has been known to happen. 😉

On occasion, I wish people wouldn’t give me such rich material and expect me not to write about it (That’s okay, the status quo is in tact.). Generally, those who do such things have no idea it’s being written about because they take no real interest in me as a person, but at this point, you’re opening yourself up to be cannon fodder. I make a point of protecting the guilty by never naming names. 😛

Most writers will write and speak from personal experience, even in works of fiction, because daily life is ridiculous and downright comedic at times. I often look around for hidden cameras to make sure I’m not part of some bizarre reality show. Half the time I feel the need to double-check to make sure Ashton Kutcher isn’t going to pop out from behind something to tell me I’ve just been Punk’d. They really need to bring that show back…

I got a surprise phone call yesterday afternoon from the store where I purchased my mattress, the one that somehow managed to have a spring crack and pop through the pillow-top, thus causing a hole that hadn’t been there two weeks prior when I first discovered it. This has been going on since August. When the “mattress inspector” came out early Tuesday morning, and by early, I mean he was here at 8:45 and after a few photos and my signature, wished me good luck with my move, I figured that even with visible proof, I’d be forced to replace it sometime next year. I cannot begin to explain how painful it is, but the inspector was nice. He said they’d take care of me “Even if you are a Yankees fan.” LOL. During the inspection he pointed out that the entire area where the spring popped is caving in slightly. That explains why I have often felt like the mattress was uneven (Total blonde moment. I can say for a fact that I was blonde when I started thinking there was something wrong with this thing.).

The lady from their service department sounded really nice when I answered the phone, but I thought she was lulling me into a false sense of security. When she informed me that the inspector’s report was that the mattress is damaged (“He said your mattress is stain-free and in perfect condition despite the damage, which is clearly not your fault.”), I was thrilled. I paid very little for a higher-end mattress because I purchased it during a big President’s Day sale along with most of my other bedroom furniture. She said I could come into the store anytime as there is now a massive credit on my account, all I have to do is pick out something new and by the way, they’re having a 50% off sale for Columbus Day. My jaw dropped. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am. So, later today (tomorrow if I still feel like crap) I am taking Case Study #2 with me so that I can get a second opinion on mattress comfort. I openly admit I only sat on this one before I chose it, and because my Fibromyalgia has progressively worsened since then, I felt it was important to do some research on the best mattresses for chronic pain sufferers.

I’ve always wanted to upgrade to a Sleep Number bed, but I’ve read mixed reviews from pain sufferers. Memory foam has always felt painful to me, but there is now a new type of memory foam with some kind of gel in the core, so I went on their web-site and found three or four different mattresses to test. No matter how I cut it, I’m still making out like a bandit because they issued me the full price despite the fact that I bought this one on sale. I’m going to look at this as a gift and a blessing because being in pain while I sleep is agonizing. Whoever is looking out for me from up Above, THANK YOU. This means replacing my pillows after the move because I always have a difficult time finding good ones that remain good. Maybe this time I won’t need so many and can downgrade to six.

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However, in my joy, I found out there are also plenty of painful, unshed tears inside me. I don’t want to move and leave what little I have built here behind. I’ve enjoyed living here, for the most part. I’ve enjoyed the area and all that has become familiar to me, but in order for progress to occur, I have to improve upon instead of remaining stagnant. I have to focus on my health and make some big changes before I can consider anything else.

What pains me most about this is that I am leaving behind my closest family member, which is making me worry beyond words. I have looked out for him since before he was born. I take the responsibility of being a sister very seriously. We spend an extraordinary amount of time together for siblings (He gets mistaken for my father or boyfriend constantly because apart from a few features, we don’t look alike.), and I know I will be sick with worry every single day that I will get a phone call with news that I will feel responsible for.

I have taken care of my brother since the day he came home from the hospital. I took care of him even more after we lost our parents. Leaving him behind now makes me feel like the worst person on the planet. No matter how many times he & I have discussed other options, we were railroaded, so now I’m left with no other option. I will be 2-5 hours away in an emergency, depending on my method of transportation, and I am worried because he’s never truly been on his own before. He has always had me to rely on to bail him out of trouble and to look out for him. I always say “Call or text me so I know you got there safely.” and “Call me when you get back, so I know you’re safe.” He constantly makes me worry. We can go for days without speaking and our relationship is not perfect, but he is still my brother and I’d hate myself if anything ever happened and I wasn’t there for him.

Does he feel the same? I honestly don’t know what he feels. He isn’t the most communicative human-being when it pertains to emotions. I’ve only seen him cry three times in the last decade, and that number might be too high if I think about it.

Since informing him of my decision, he has been angry and volatile. He has accused me of abandoning him and said we won’t have a relationship at all once I move, that he’ll be “cutting me off” emotionally. I’ve repeatedly said “We can talk every day, we can text, we can e-mail like we always do, and we can Skype. I’ll be back in a flash if you truly need me and you can always come and visit.” He’s said he won’t visit, which might just be how he feels now, but I truly don’t know. I do, however, feel that he has some major growing up to do and since I was recently accused of “holding him back” simply because I provided unsolicited advice, I feel like it’s time to let him learn the way he’s always chosen to learn; the hard way. It makes me sick to my stomach, I’m terrified over what he might get himself into, but I also know in my heart that I have done everything I possibly can for him and he’s chosen not to change or grow. You can no longer help someone who doesn’t give a shit about the things in life that are truly important.

Cat will miss him terribly. She worships the ground he walks on. Since the first night I brought her home, she has adored him. He was the first person to hold her, the first person she purred for, the first person she chirped at, and the first person she ever gave kisses to. If I thought he could truly care for her the way I do, I’d let them be together, but I know he can barely take care of himself and that the responsibility of a cat is not in his wheelhouse at the moment. I know she will search for him and miss him, but I also know she will never forget him. And I do hope he’ll change his mind and visit a few times a year, because it’s not a huge trip to make when you only have a bag of clothes and your laptop with you. I am hoping that time will show him that I’m not abandoning him, that I’m giving him room to spread his wings. No matter where either of us are, we will always remain siblings. That’s an unbreakable bond, though I realize for many, that the bond does break.

The day he was born my exact words were “I didn’t ask for a little brother. Can we send him back? I specifically said I wanted a baby sister.” I was lovingly informed that I don’t get to choose that sort of thing. God has given me sisters in the form of my closest friends, and for that I am truly grateful, but when it comes to my brother I suspect I’ll always have mixed emotions. Even when we’ve gone years without seeing each other, we have still spoken regularly and communicated better than when we’ve lived in the same home or city/town. Perhaps this is precisely how he learns to be a better brother.

He has, often quite begrudgingly, been there for me these past few years as my Fibromyalgia has worsened and my migraines became more difficult to manage. He has taken out my trash and recycling, picked up medication, brought me emergency supplies when I’ve been sick or in too much pain to get out of bed, done library and post office runs, and been my partner-in-crime nine times out of ten. He has helped me when I’ve needed help, cared for my familiar when I’d go on vacation, dropped me off at the airport and picked me up, even when the timing inconvenienced him, and fixed things for me when I wasn’t 100% certain how to do it myself. No matter how many times I say thank you or do something to show my appreciation for these things, he tells me he has “outlived his usefulness”. Unfortunately through all that help, he has also been highly disrespectful, overly demanding, and extremely abusive. He always expects to be forgiven simply because he is my brother, but it is not always possible to forgive unforgivable things. I realize that is a lesson he needs to learn for himself.

So as I proceed, I am certain my eyes will be swollen shut at some point from all the crying, but hopefully he will flourish without my presence. I will never stop being his sister or his friend, but I’ve done all I can to “keep the family together”, my Grandmother’s dying plea to me. Maybe it was an unfair request, but I think I’ve held up the three promises I made to her before she passed away, to the best of my ability, as this was long before my Fibromyalgia diagnosis when I only had two things plaguing my life.

I don’t know how to turn off the maternal gene, it’s ingrained in who I am. It’s possible I have always been overprotective. Here’s hoping that one day my brother can look back on all of that and know in his heart that I’m not abandoning him, I am simply making important changes with a hole in my heart. I cannot allow guilt to make my decisions for me. I cannot allow tears to hold me back, because no matter what, my life and happiness are equally important.

I pray I am making the right decision for all involved. I also pray that he will soon realize that I’m not choosing someone else over him, but that I am choosing me for the first time in my life.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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brother-sister

Don’t Hold Together What Must Fall Apart…

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“Sometimes, right when you think your life is getting better, everything falls to pieces, and you end up right back where you started. In those moments just remember, that right when your life has fallen apart, something unexpected will come along; a new person, friend, opportunity or discovery, that will help you put the pieces back together again. Don’t hold together what must fall apart. The familiar life crumbles so the new life can begin. Things may be different, but you will love your life again in time.” -Bryant McGill

I Refuse To Change

Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , ,

doyoumeantotellmeAfter taking a couple of days to rest from overdoing it, I am back on my grind today. While going through a box that I never unpacked from my original move (because nothing inside it was overly important), I found a ton of missing CD’s. I reorganized that box for its intended purpose, took the CD’s out, and I’m boxing up music. I added some songs to my media library since I will be putting the majority of my music into storage initially. You know how there’s always that one song you miss? I was happy to find a few. But I’m also debating tossing things I don’t want to move with, heavy things that seem kind of pointless, but then I have a moment where I think “Shouldn’t you at least have the opportunity to go through all of this stuff before deciding to toss it or not? Okay, so it’s a few extra boxes and it will take hours to go through every single item and make a decision, but if you’re throwing away solid memories, maybe it should wait. If you’re questioning it, then now is not the time to toss it.”

How is it that “stuff” emotionally neuters us at times? In life, we build memories and sometimes, memories captured are difficult to part with. The more I pause, the more I feel like nothing is getting done and I’m working on a very tight deadline.

To add insult to injury, I have absolutely no clue how this move is going to take place. I’ve had two “helpers” back out in the last few days. No explanations, just flat-out back out or say one thing, and then say they couldn’t or wouldn’t help. I need someone to drive a 26 foot truck, so I asked the one person in my life who is a professional driver. It’s not like he has someplace to be the following day. I’d never ask someone to take off from work to help me move, but naturally, there are going to be kinks along the way. I was then left with the second task: I need to transport Cat and Kitten and all the delicate items in a separate vehicle. I legitimately need help. I can’t take them and leave them in a situation they’re not familiar with and them come back and do everything else before I have to be out, so I am frustrated and more than a little pissed off. Ultimately, I have no choice but to keep packing, but not knowing with solid certainty where I’m going due to these issues is upsetting me greatly. And yes, I have thought of so many options and no one is willing to say “I can help you out that weekend, it’s not a problem.” Mind you, they’d all come to me in a heartbeat for the smallest thing, but my asking for help is somehow wrong. Note to self: Trade family members into slavery. Buy Porsche Cayenne with the money you make from the trade. (I’m only partially kidding.)

The larger insult that I was slammed with the other day was basically being told that I don’t have enough friends. It was an incredibly rich statement based on who it came from, but it pissed me off nonetheless because it was thoughtless, insensitive, and rude. How many “friends” does one need? Do I need a fucking sorority house to satisfy someone else’s idea of how I should be, or am I good with just a few close friends?

I do not grant friendship easily. My friendship is a genuine, loyal, breathing organism. It is fully committed and quite frankly, most women don’t know how to be friends like that. I don’t need falseness in my life and I don’t need to be a joiner to be a good person and be content. Anyone who thinks I need to change the core of who I am needs to realize that Fibromyalgia is with me 24/7. Eventually, people stop asking you to do things when you can barely get out of bed and do the most basic things for yourself, so why would I want to put myself in the situation of opening up to absolute strangers who haven’t earned their place in my life? I’m a grown woman, and the last thing I need in this world is to be told how to be or that there’s something about me that needs to change because it’s imperfect. I have two words as an answer: FUCK THAT.

I am who I am. I am ENOUGH. Anyone who disagrees needs to mind their own business, keep their opinions to themselves, or get the hell out of my way.

I only apologize if I’ve truly done something wrong. Being myself is NOT wrong.

So, to the person that feels I need to be “changed”, I strongly suggest you take a good look in the mirror and change some of your own behavioral patterns. I don’t change friends daily the way you change socks, and that is a quality to be admired, not disrespected as you did. The fact that you look down upon it is quite sickening.

The cherry on top: I’ve had a migraine since yesterday afternoon. I was legitimately in bed before 4:00 PM. At some point, my body will inform me that it needs more rest and I am going to do my best to give it what it needs. Unfortunately, moving and self-care don’t exactly mesh well. 😦 I’d love to just lie in bed and read a book today or tomorrow. I am going to try to squeeze in chapters of Trigger Mortis here and there before I leave. Worst case scenario: I’m unable to finish it.

On the plus side, I am truly grateful for the people who have stepped up and assisted in both large and small ways, regardless of the miles between us. That means so much to me, to have that level of support. Sadly, I wish it was a team of ten people at the moment helping me with all this crap instead of a handful making me feel like crap.

Life, my friends, is not for the faint of heart. Treat people the way you want to be treated.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

weallneed

It’s Normal And It’s Okay

Miss Poison Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

someofAnother night of barely present sleep has me sitting here stressed. I should be boxing things up in my bathroom or going through my closet, but it’s cold, even with the heat on, the wind is insane, and I think I have to give myself a break today. From the neck down, everything hurts. If I don’t rest through this flare, nothing will get done as I lose a week to bed-rest, so I need to give myself a day here and there and cut myself some slack. Rome was not built in a day. I cannot pack up my entire life in a few days either.

I’ve been contemplating breakfast for several hours. Is it weird that I want mashed potatoes? LOL. Hot, comforting, and fast because they’re already in the fridge and all I have to do is heat them up. Alas, I came upstairs to write instead.

I will organize laundry next, as the store I bought my mattress from is finally sending someone out to inspect it on Tuesday, “sometime between 4 and 7”, and while I always change the linens on Sunday, this time I want to make sure that everything is good to go for that. Hell, I might even make my bed. It would be the first time in a few years. Don’t judge me, no one cares what it looks like so long as it’s clean.

The person who was originally working with me in regard to this issue is “no longer with the company”, so I am afraid that this hole in my mattress will be blown off, as opposed to the person being able to feel the spring popping up and authorizing a replacement. I am going to ask him outright if this thing is a lemon (which I suspected less than a year after sleeping on it. It shouldn’t have gone from the best thing EVER to “I want to replace this.”) or simply defective. I informed the store that I was moving and because it’s a regional store, as opposed to nationwide, if they do replace it, they’ll have to get it to me before the end of the month. At the very least, if they deliver it the day I leave, it’ll be wrapped and good to go into storage for a while. My bed is huge when you factor in the entire piece of furniture, so I will have to get them to send me instructions on how to take it apart since it took two men to get it in here and put it together. It was expensive or I wouldn’t be so concerned about taking it apart and storing it. It’s special to me and while it’s no longer pristine as it was when I first bought it, I’d like to be able to keep it for the foreseeable future. If not, a trip to IKEA is in my future. It’s been so long since I’ve been to IKEA that I look forward to going, which should be sad, but I think it’s a good idea. If nothing else, I might find some great ideas moving forward.

Tomorrow I notify my final editing client of the year that I will be taking the next two months to move. Technically I don’t need all of November blocked out (I will buckle down and finish her manuscript once I’m settled), but I won’t have Internet access immediately because the company that runs everything where I will be moving knows nothing about customer service. I’ve spoken to them twice and I can assure you that they’re drunk on their own Kool-Aid. The fact that I said I didn’t want a two-year agreement nearly sent two agents into a tizzy. “You will be so satisfied with our service, we are certain you will want to keep it for years to come.” Yeah, whatever. When Verizon moves in, and inevitably, the demand will secure their position, I am GONE. I will do whatever I have to in order to leave you and return to the company that has been amazing to me from day one. If I didn’t need the Internet, I’d let it fly, but I can’t work without it. If I’m going to be without it for more than a week on my laptop and tablet, it means I’m on the vacation of the century. Verizon is more along the lines of “We can be there tomorrow; would you prefer a morning, afternoon, or evening appointment?”, but these assholes told me installation would be 5-10 days from the time I place the order, but that I can choose the date to coincide with my arrival. How kind of you, since you’ll be sucking money out of me every month like leeches. The whole thing annoys me, but ultimately, having Internet access is important. It’s how I get shit done.

Ultimately, I am trying to make peace with my decision. The more negativity I deal with here, the more I want to be gone. I want to get back to being the woman I used to be. I deserve to be able to be myself without having to mask 99% of what I think or feel, or be told that it’s wrong. Overall, the things I will miss about being here aren’t as large as missing chunks of myself. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or that I’m not upset about it. I am. However, there comes a time when you have to stop sacrificing pieces of your soul

When my mother had her accident, she worried that she was holding me back because I stayed put to take care of her. I would not change that decision for anything in the world, even though I was completely burned out in the end. I would not have been able to look at myself in the mirror if I didn’t know exactly what was going on with her. I would not have been able to enjoy anything in my life knowing that I wasn’t a good daughter, the kind she deserved, the person she raised me to be. I may not have been able to keep her alive in the end, but I remember a time when my Mom wasn’t strong enough to leave a bad situation and I was her strength. Now, I have to be my own.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

tiredoftrying

October, You Glorious Friend

Miss Poison Baseball, Hockey, Life, October, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, The Future, Writing , , , , , , , ,
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These are important things to keep in mind as well.

It’s not a secret: Fall is my favorite time of year, and October and November are two of my favorite months. October is a birth-pride kind of thing. I don’t care if it’s sunny year-round in California, because to me, that’s hell. Peace is watching the leaves change color. It’s not having one or two “crisp” days and then returning to more sunshine and 70+ degree temperatures. To me, that’s inhuman. I’d die a slow, painful death. Plus, my SPF use would skyrocket just to go to the mailbox. 😉

I am an Atlantic Ocean loving East Coast girl. I could die over the Atlantic and be perfectly okay with it. I’m a Water Sign and there’s something very calm about it to me. Bodies of water make me happy. In a world where not much does, that’s truly saying something.

October is many things for me: Baseball, hockey, autumn leaves, the smell of fresh apples, baked goods galore (I walked into a store last week to pick something up and the overwhelming scent of apples, pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg slapped me in the face when the doors opened. I wanted to take a shower in the sugary scent.), the weather is intoxicating, Halloween/Samhain, and the icing on the proverbial cupcake is always my birthday.

But this year, my birthday means saying goodbye to a specific chapter of my life and all that I held dear about it and saying hello to a new beginning. Much like a Brazilian wax, it’s going to hurt, but the pain is temporary because less than a week later, my life will begin again someplace new, minus the itchy regrowth.

New adventures, new people, new surroundings that are familiar in some respects, but most importantly, I will finally get the opportunity to focus on my health, on my career change, and on achieving things I never thought of doing. It’s important not to stop dreaming, even if you fully believe you’re content with your life. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of that and I think this is an important reminder to “Dream big, for the dream precedes the goal.” You never know what’s possible unless you try.

I greet October with mixed emotions this year. I know it will take many months for me to be okay with my decision, but that ultimately, I am allowing myself to be guided. I’ve repeatedly asked to be guided in the right direction, and perhaps this is simply the right direction at this particular point in my life.

We might joke about winning the lottery being the key to happiness, but ultimately I think many of us want the same things: Good health, happiness, security, and loved ones by our side. Material things don’t matter if you’re all alone and it means even less if you’re sick and can’t help yourself.

I pray that wherever this road takes me, it leads me to the things I most desire in life. Only God truly knows what those things are.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

youcametothis

Critters

Miss Poison Cats, Life, Love, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , ,

I love Cat and Kitten, but sometimes, I have no energy for their antics. Okay, most days I don’t have the energy, but I digress.

This morning, the antics began early, and I had about as much patience for it as I do for a KKK rally. I decided to put a little food in their bowls to try to entice them away from my general direction so I could lock them out of my bedroom in the hopes that I’d be able to get a few more hours of sleep. It was an epic fail.

I came back to discover that Cat was sound asleep in my bed and it was Kitten making all the noise, running around like there were ten of her. I can’t decide if she has too much energy or if we feed her too much. 😛 She zipped past me after I’d already put food in both bowls, and tried hiding under the bed. There is no sense in trying to pull a spry cat out from underneath a bed, no matter what time of day it is. I already have two healing scratches and I don’t need fresh ones.

My brain was foggy with sleep, so at the time, I couldn’t tell who was who and I didn’t care, so long as the behavior stopped. I got back into bed and thought I saw Cat at the foot of the bed. I put out a hand and immediately knew who it was by texture. She feels like silk. That’s when I thought “What a little shit!” Thirty seconds later, she was opening the door and flying down the stairs like a monkey on crack. The insane behavior didn’t stop until well after I was awake. She tormented me until I fed her two hours in advance, as if she’s ever starved a day in her life with me. It’s a little scary how ravenous she is, but I suppose many cats (and dogs) are hungry when they’re on a schedule. They probably have internal timers we are completely unaware of. They don’t greet us at the door out of love, they greet us at the door because we control the food. If they had thumbs, we’d be obsolete. They’d start adopting themselves. I’m pretty sure there are animals who could bag my groceries better than most humans, but that’s a story for another day (I mean really: Who the hell puts two huge cans of crushed tomatoes on top of a loaf of bread?! Think about that for a second before answering.).

On the plus side, I love it when they’re sweet, sleepy, affectionate, and cuddly. While I was working yesterday afternoon Kitten walked over to Cat, who was sleeping, and proceeded to kiss her head. Affection ensued. Then, they wrapped their paws around each other and snuggled to sleep. This went on for three hours before they got nasty with each other and one of them took off, but it was nice to see because as they get older, there will be more fighting, as opposed to play-fighting, and less affection. That’s how it is with female cats, even if they’re litter-mates or siblings. I’ve seen it before, I’ve lived it, and I am not anticipating miracles here. Coexistence, but not miracles.

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This is how we assist Mommy. Did you know that cuddling is good for your health?

Cat and Kitten are many things, but they’re not mean, selfish assholes. I thank God/Goddess every day that they’re not people-people, because then I’d probably find them rude and/or annoying. Thankfully, animals bring unconditional love with them. They’ll spend time with you if you’re sick or sad, they’ll check in on you, bring you toys (Maybe that’s just my two?), and give you kisses. They don’t care what you look like because they don’t have human vision. They don’t care if you have perfume or cologne on (Cat and Kitten both smell like spicy maple syrup. I have no idea how this is achieved.), so long as your skin smells like Mommy/Daddy and is consistently familiar. There is no superficiality to the life of critters. These two could care less if I have a full face of makeup on or if I’m in my PJ’s, they still love me. I swear, it’s the food thing. LOL. In all seriousness, I find comfort in that. I can be myself without fear of persecution or demands I cannot meet. In this selfie obsessed world, they are two of the reasons I am alive. I could not be more grateful.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

iwillrise
This should be a theme for me.

Anything That You Learn…

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“Anything that you learn becomes your wealth, a wealth that cannot be taken away from you; whether you learn it in a building called school or in the school of life. To learn something new is a timeless pleasure and a valuable treasure. And not all things that you learn are taught to you, but many things that you learn you realize you have taught yourself.” -C. Joybell C. 

“Get Rid Of Your Americanisms”…

Miss Poison Being Real, Friendship, Honesty, Life, Men, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Women, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , ,

marc-hackI am a firm believer that no matter where we’re from, it is always a part of who we are. The place where we grow up and spend our formative years is instilled in us, no matter how far away we may move.

As a Native New Yorker, you will never, ever hear me say I am from anywhere else on this planet. “Concrete jungle where dreams are made of…”

I’ve lived in other places over the years and to this day people still stay “You’re not from around here, are you?” I will never get rid of my subtle accent, and I refuse to allow anyone to make me feel self-conscious about it. I didn’t grow up easy, but I’m proud of where I’m from.

A friend of mine, after several years of “marriage” (I have a hard time calling it that), is immigrating to the United Kingdom. Her husband told her she had to “get rid of her Americanisms” because she will be “British”. I was utterly appalled reading her Facebook post, as if this was something cute. “Yes hubby bunny, I’ll get right on that.” I had a thought that went with that bit of submissive nausea, and I totally blame Jodi Ambrose for it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😛 (I’m kidding, slightly. It just goes to show you our minds are both in the gutter, and thank GOD for that! Make sure you read Jodi’s awesome Eulogy post. It is a work of art.)

I was quick to inform her that citizenship, which will take 2-3 years, as she will be there temporarily on a spouse visa, will not make her British-born. She will never stop being a native of the country she was born in. That’s like me dying my hair blonde, moving to Finland, and claiming to be a native. No one would EVER believe me, so why pretend? Why would anyone ask you to change how you speak and how you think in order to make you something you’re never going to be, except on paper? It blows my mind.

She’s not American, but she was raised to speak American English and taught to aim for a better life. I told her she’s being brainwashed, and she is, because she’s willing to let someone a good 20 years older than her tell her how to think, write, spell, what to wear, eat, etc. Five years ago, she may have been single, but she knew how to think for herself. Now she has a “husband” with all of her passwords (If you’re one of “those types”, I strongly question your I.Q.) who is very quick to jump down anyone’s throat for reminding her that she has a mind of her own. I suspect there’s a reason he’s so controlling; and I don’t find anything cute or attractive about it. It’s worrisome, to say the least. Have we been over the fact that if you use the word “hubby” in my presence, I might lose my lunch? He’s British, shouldn’t she just refer to him as her “old man”? It’s what he is, let’s be technical.

Every friend I have that isn’t American born, but has dual-citizenship in this country, is the first to say “I’m Italian.” or “I’m Swedish.” They are proud of where they’re from, they’re proud of their U.S. citizenship, but that doesn’t stop them from also being themselves as people. They haven’t stopped saying “In my country…” no matter how long they’ve lived here. I find nothing wrong with that and I’d NEVER correct them or tell them to “adapt” or to change their method of thinking or their speech patterns. They are who they are, and I respect that. They can lapse into any language they want to speak in front of me, I do not find it offensive, its merely force of habit. They do it in front of husbands, wives, children, etc. It is what it is. But when someone is controlling you, it’s a whole other ballgame and it’s NOT okay. There’s a reason men don’t talk to me like that; it’s because they value their natural teeth and the family jewels.

Maybe submissive women is a thing I’m unaware of. I was not raised to be a passive, submissive, unquestioning, brainless, giggling little fool. If being a wallflower spouse/partner does it for you, well good for you, but it repulses me. Even when a man is super quiet and lets someone run roughshod over him, it’s repulsive to me. When people make their relationship your business by publicly discussing their life via social media, they should expect people to chime in. Her husband attacked me once for being honest with her and I told her if he ever did it again, he’d be sorry for it because her friendships aren’t his business. I’ve been friends with her for over 20 years. I’m not going to blow smoke up her ass. Good friends tell you the truth.

He got her a puppy about ten months ago and she is leaving three animals behind in another country to be taken care of “by family”, with no intent to bring them to England whatsoever. That too, is absolutely disgusting and heartless to me. I suggested re-homing all of them so that they could have good lives and her response was “This will be our vacation home, we’ll be back here when we retire, so we’ll see them when we come back.” I have NO IDEA what dream world she’s living in, but in my world, you don’t leave animals behind. That is cruel and evil. She has no guarantees whatsoever that her “family” is going to take care of her home and animals. I do not want to hear how that ends, but I’m sure I will.

When you truly love someone, you don’t tell them they need to change, unless it’s for health reasons via doctor’s orders. When you truly have someone’s best interests at heart, you realize that they’re uprooting their entire life to live in a foreign country for you and that it’s an immense sacrifice. They’re not “visiting”, though I already know the outcome of this story.

I am not good with “yes people”. It physically makes me ill when women behave like that in relationships, especially when they genuinely mean it. It’s not like the sarcasm of “Yes, dear.” that many American women use. Most of us say it, but we don’t actually mean that we’re going to wash, fold, and iron your underwear for you. If you do wash, fold, and iron someone’s underwear, I hope he’s paying you incredibly well, or he’s your son and you want him to look his best. Whatever floats your boat. <rolls eyes>

Wherever you are from, BE YOU. Don’t ever let anyone, not even a spouse, tell you there’s something wrong with that. My best friends are almost all overseas, and I love them like sisters. I would never tell any of them they have to change their speech, thoughts, views, etc., to be anything more than who they are as people. One of my best friends does hope to achieve American citizenship at some point in the future, which I will support, encourage, and assist with in terms of helping her study American history so she can pass her tests (She’ll probably learn way more than I ever did, or more than I can remember.). I want her to achieve that dream and be able to live out her days with an American passport if that’s what she desires. Why not? In my mind, if a friend has a dream, you help them to the best of your ability if they’re unsure if it is attainable or not. You support and encourage. Moreover, as a life partner, I cannot ever imagine turning to a man and saying “Could you not be Welsh, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Swedish…”, etc. and don’t speak the language in front of me “because you’re AMERICAN NOW!” Not only is that rude beyond words, but it’s disrespectful.

If you’ve been with a person for a while and marry them or live with them, then you pretty much know what you’re getting into. Yes, they’re going to have odd little quirks that will drive you crazy, but if someone is going to be a psycho control-freak, you might want to re-think how you’re treated and have a major discussion about respect and boundaries because being told you’re not good enough unless you do A,B, C, D, and E is utterly unacceptable.

When I hear crap like this and a woman accepts it like that’s what you do in a marriage, either to avoid conflict or to be a submissive dumbass, it 100% makes me want to say “FUCK NO!” the next time someone asks me to marry them.

No matter where I go in life, no matter where I live, no matter who I’m in a relationship with, I intend to continue being a badass bitch. Take it or leave it, gents.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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The Long Slow March Towards…More

Miss Poison Being Real, Change, Family, Growth, Happiness, Hope, Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , ,

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Someday in the not-too-distant future, holiday weekends such as this one will have more meaning for me. They won’t just be about the “official end of summer” or hoisting the flag in a show of patriotism. No one should need a holiday to be proud of where they’re from. Unless, of course, Barack Obama is your President, is systematically destroying this country, and we’re heading into an election year, but I digress. Weekends like this will eventually be about family.

I wish I’d known ten years ago how fiercely I wanted the things I want today. I wish I’d known then that it was okay to pursue those dreams and goals, without fear. By fear I don’t mean fear in the traditional sense, more in the “How the hell am I going to do THIS?” sense. No matter how much faith and confidence you have, we all have moments of self-doubt. It’s normal. You can do every single thing in your life the “traditional way” and it can still go to shit before your eyes. I think people become consumed with honoring other people’s wishes, hopes, and dreams, and lose sight of their own.

When I said that I was going to make a career change, that in no way entailed the end of me putting ink to paper. It meant “I need more.”

I have a family member who is incredibly content to fill her home with rescued animals. And by fill, I truly mean FILL.

I was told, no joke, that I should feel “immense guilt” for not choosing to personally save more lives. I had to flat-out say that while admirable, I want my life to have more to it than that. Animals are wonderful, anyone who has spent five minutes reading my work knows that I love cat and kitten, but is that all I ever want to come home to until the day that I die? No. I respect her choice, but she cannot comprehend mine because she made her decision years ago. I find it simple: We want different things. That’s okay. It doesn’t make one person better and the other worse, it means we have different ideas for our lives, and she should be able to accept it and let it go. My life is not an animal sanctuary. Anyone who cannot understand that probably shouldn’t be a part of my life in any capacity.

Each of us wants different things in life. Some people might want the traditional life of a husband/wife, 2.5 kids (or no children), a dog/cat (or no pets), and the white picket fence. And others…we want more. It has nothing to do with material things and everything to do with depth. That’s precisely what I seek; Depth. Material things aren’t always yours “forever”, but the miracle of your own flesh & blood…that’s eternal.

In life, we all deserve the chance to find the things that make us feel whole, whatever that may be. Wherever you find your happiness, may it be the ‘more’, the depth, and the eternal truth that we all seek, whether we admit it or not.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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