Speaking Volumes...

I saw this posted somewhere yesterday…

“Say what you feel, in order for others to feel what you say.”

I personally don’t have a problem with this.  I have 99 problems, but this isn't one of them.  I would venture a guess that 99.99% of my friends and family FEEL everything I say.  One of the things I love about myself.  In fact, just last week I was driving around the Wisconsin countryside with one of my very best friends, house hunting, ya know, just to be prepared…and we were just talking about whatever and she just randomly says, this is why I love you.  And I’m like what? And she’s like, because, there is no wondering what you are feeling or thinking.  There is no mystery with you.  And you are not afraid to say it.  Ummm?  Nope…never have been I guess.  It’s probably why I have such a huge issue with communicating with people who do have a problem with it.

Anyway, when I saw the statement, my first initial thought was “speaking volumes”…how what we do, or what we say, or what we don’t do or say, can speak volumes about us as a person.  To be honest with you, what a person DOES NOT DO or DOES NOT say says more to me than any words that could come out of their mouths or actions they may take.  I am not sure why I feel this way, but I know I have for a very, very long time.

There is an old country song, I am not sure who sang it first, but it goes something like this:

“You say it best, when you say nothing at all...”

Or the old John Mayer song:

“Say what you need to say…”

I am pretty sure that sometimes we don’t even know when a person may be hanging on the very words that we do or do not say.  I do know that I hope no matter how harsh my words may or may not be, that no matter what I say and that whoever that person is, doesn't have to wonder.  Because there is nothing worse than wondering what a person is feeling.  NOTHING.  It’s like that phone call that never comes.  Or the text.  Or any damn form of communication. 

Where am I going with this?  Well, right here.  I didn't get a job that I applied for.  A job that would have allowed me to get back “up north.”  I was at peace with whatever happened because that’s just where I happen to be right now…at peace with a lot of things…but you make that announcement and you just know that certain people are going to say the right things…the things you need to hear…the things that come at just the right time…and they are going to mean everything in that moment, because in that moment, that was what you needed most.

And then someone you expected to say something to you about it says nothing.  Nothing at all.  Not an “I’m sorry,” not an “it’s for the best,” not even an “it wasn't meant to be.”  Nothing.  And your first thought is, wow, I shouldn't have expectations and then your next thought is, they are not as thoughtful as you Tiffany, or they don’t work that way…and you get all sorts of twisted up over it, for no damn reason at all and then that makes you mad because you have wasted so much time worrying about it.  And so you start to walk away and bam.  It hits you.  It hits you square in the face that by them saying nothing to you at all?  That it actually speaks volumes about them.

The moral of this story is that I am very used to not getting what I want…I have learned tremendous lessons in want vs. need.  I don’t NEED anything, or anyone.  Yes it would be nice.  But I don’t NEED it.  So I don’t need to waste any more time on someone who talks to me like they are talking to their child or who treats me that way.  Someone who obviously cannot be bothered to say, I am sorry you didn't get this job…

I have spent a tremendous amount of the past year pretty much not feeling worth too much.  Reality is it’s the exact opposite.  I didn't get the job because something better is coming.  I am too old to play games with anyone or anything.  For the first time in a very long time, I am a peace…something really wonderful is coming and I cannot tell you how long it’s been since I have felt this way. 

In the meantime, I guess if there is a possibility that someone needs to hear how you feel, you may want to say it…because you just never know when they may need to hear it in that very moment…and if you don’t say anything at all?  Perhaps that is what they needed to finally realize, that they didn't need that from you anyway.

And that, that? Speaks volumes.

What. The. Hell.

Because I do not want my Facebook news feed cluttered to death with the response to these next couple questions, I am blogging it.

Let's get one thing straight, I am asking because I genuinely want to know the answer and I am interested in the topic.  I am not asking so I can get some smart-ass response about politics, the Obama's, the different parties.  In fact, don't respond at all if it is going to be negative in nature.  I am asking for someone to point me in the right direction?  AND THEN, once I have read what I need to read to make myself aware of the issues, I can then form opinions and piss people off, does that make sense?

SOMEONE, I don't care who, give me the link or whatever it is, to read about or familiarize myself with the following two topics:

The school lunch debacle.  I have a hard time believing that Michelle Obama has the power to make every school in the United States STOP serving Tater Tots, but apparently that is the case.  If so, why wasn't she running for Presidency?  So show me where, who, when, etc this all went down so I can read it for myself.

And lastly, why certain states want to secede from the United States.

Again...not your opinion on why this has happened or is happening, just where I can go to get the story.  The facts.  The truth.  If that is even an option.

Thank you in advance.  And once I do read up and familiarize myself with these topics, I will post another blog at which you can put your two cents in as well!

Good day.

The 25 best things about me...

Today's exercise?

The 25 best things about me?  I call bull-shit.  This is a dumb exercise.  Especially for me...I have a couple things that are good, but 25?  That's a stretch.  Ugggghhhh, and in no particular order, because this is going to take a very long time to complete.  I dare you to try it if you think it is so easy.  Sister wanted to make sure I knew that some of my GOOD things, can also be BAD things...uh yeah...got it.

1. My heart.  (It's bigger than the vessel that has to carry it.)

2. My ability to love unconditionally.  (I didn't know there were other ways.)

3. I love most all of God's creatures. (Not a fan of spiders or snakes or June Bugs.)

4. I don't know a stranger. (Meaning pretty much anyone can take me anywhere and I will make a friend.)

5. I am probably the most non-judgmental person I know. (Wasn't put on earth to do that.)

6. I am a great listener. (Unless I have no care in the world about the topic you are discussing.)

7. I am a good communicator. (Face to face and in writing, I struggle with people who are not.)

8. I have been a Chicago Cubs and Chicago Bears fan my whole life. (Not that that is good, but at least I am consistent especially considering how hard it is to be either.)

9. I love all kids of music, depending on my mood. (Except head banging music that gives me a headache and Rap.  This is good because I would say that is pretty eclectic.)

10. I am a great, great, Aunt.  (They have no idea how lucky they are.)

11. I am articulate.  (At least I think I can express myself well.)

12. I am a pretty good friend. (In certain situations I could be a better one.)

13. I am honest.  (To the point of being brutally so.) 

14. I am a hopeless romantic.  (I didn't say I believe in Fairy-tales, I said hopeless romantic.)

15. I am very opinionated.  (Not always a good thing.)

16. I am a dreamer. (But I am not the only one.)

17. I am sincere.  (Like probably the most sincere person I know.)

18. I am wonderful with kids. (Although I have no idea why.)

19. I am passionate. (Sometimes extremely so.)

20. I am hard headed. (Although I am a doormat a lot, I am very stubborn, which can sometimes come in handy.)

21. I am trustworthy.  (I probably tell Sister and Mom more things then I should.)

22. Thoughtful.  (I am really, really thoughtful.)

23. Fun on a road-trip. (As long as I am not hungry, if I am fed or have snacks, it is all good.)

24. Loyal and Dedicated (I think you should walk away from people, places and things if you cannot be.)

25. Sweet Jesus, the last one.  Thank God...drum roll please...

I am a fantastic hugger.  And and even better kisser.  But I give real damn good hugs. 

So there ya have it, if you think it's such an easy task, have at it...just don't forget, some of your good things, can also be bad things.

My Body...

That was the topic or the prompt for today's writing exercise.  Obviously you have realized that I am not writing once a day like I am supposed to be so, not only am I not playing this writing game very well, but I am inconsistent as hell.

Imagine my surprise when I looked up today's writing prompt.  Well.  Here goes nothing.

(Before I get into this exercise, I have been absent from writing period because of a profound sadness, caused actually by an abundance of bullshit from so many different directions, but each day it gets a little bit better...so there's that.)

Anyway, my body...

My first thought?  Son of a bitch.  (This may be one of my more brutally honest blogs, so if you don't like the foul language and other truths I am about to write, you may want to skip this one.)

I hate my body.  I always have.

I learned at a very, very early age to hate my body.  7 to be exact.  I didn't hate my body because of the usual society bullshit (too fat, too thin, to tall, too skinny, bad skin, etc.) I hated my body because it didn't work.  Not like other people my age.  I can remember sitting out of a basketball practice at the grade school in 5th or 6th grade because something just wasn't right.  I couldn't keep up.  It hurt when I moved.  When we finally figured out what was wrong, it still didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I did the best I could.  As a freshman I remember one game specifically where I embarrassed my parents to the point that I don't think they even showed up for my game, I think they waited and came to Sisters, later.  In order to play, I pretty much had to wrap every bone, every muscle, every joint.  Little did I know that a company called Under Armour would eventually corner the market on clothes that did just this very thing.  Kept the muscles and joints warm and tight.  Bastards made a lot of money, still are.  All I knew is that I couldn't move without it.  I looked like a mummy.  I didn't care I wanted to play.  Eventually, I had to quit participating in track, softball, volleyball, etc.  I had to pick one sport.  I chose basketball.  I was never, ever, going to be the basketball player my sister was and in hindsight, I should have chose softball, it would have been a hell of a lot easier on my body, but I never chose the easy route.  I guess I liked challenges.  Anyway, basketball it was and I played, if you can even call it that, until my senior year.  It was my senior year that I had to stop playing everything.  They told me I had a prolapsed mitro-valve in my heart...which is harmless really, except when you have dental work done (need to avoid an infection.)  It was a few years later when the Mayo clinic determined that yes, I did have that, but it was the connective tissue around my heart that would "flare up" and cause the discomfort, fatigue, etc.  Leading them to believe this was more of a connective tissue disease, than a joint issue.  To this day, the tests are borderline Lupus.

You should already know the rest of the story, the Mayo clinic said I would never make it with a career in fitness...well, I did and because of it, was in the best shape of my life.  Like phenomenal.  Like.  No words.  And then I broke my back.  Even when I was in the best shape of my life, I still hated my body.  It didn't matter that I weighed the least amount I had ever weighed in my life.  Or that my body fat was almost non existent.  I never thought I looked good.  Never would.

That brings us to today.  When I returned home from Hawaii, I had a neuroma in my foot.  The following February I had surgery to remove that.  That same year, in July, I broke my hand.  I still don't know how.  (And it is actually better that way.)  But of my entire body, the only thing I could tolerate were my hands because they reminded me of my Grandpas and my moms.  Now, that hand is crooked...and I hate it.  Six months later, I fell and broke my leg and ankle in 3 places.  That son of a bitch will never look right or work right again.  (Mind you this was after I was 6 weeks into my new health and fitness regimen.)  It would be 6 weeks before I could walk again.  That was fun.  Two steps forward, 18 back.  This September, I needed to have my gallbladder removed.  Sooooooooooooooooo, with that, I have had 3 surgeries in a year and a half's time.  If you thought I hated my body before?  I despise it now.  D-E-S-P-I-S-E.  Will it help if I lost 50#, of course, will I still hate it?  Of course.  It is forever broken, crooked and scarred.

Yes, I suppose all of those things "make" me who I am today, but in my heart and my head, that is exactly what it makes me...broken, crooked and scarred.  BUT, for all of my cup half full friends, I need to be grateful it's still working right?  Well hell of course I am.  I shouldn't be walking after I broke my back.  I don't suppose I should have had such an awesome recovery from my broken leg either, other then I broke it as cleanly as you can.  My Gallbladder?  I didn't need that bitch anyway.  I have felt a lot better after she got removed.  My hand?  It's my "ring finger" hand, so if someone ever does put a ring on it, I guess I will forever be reminded of that one time I broke my hand, but can't remember how.

Yes, everything is about perspective.  The writing topic was not about how lucky I feel to have my body, the topic was simply, My Body.  And I am supposed to write exactly what I felt...so there ya have it.  I hate the vessel and I always have and I seriously probably always will.  We live in a society where we are completely wholeheartedly judged by the vessel we walk around in.  Sadly, some people kill themselves over it.  I am positive most people would find me overweight and unattractive because of it, but, most people don't know my story.  Most people don't want to know the story.  Someone will want to know it someday and I will tell them.  Exactly what I have told you.  But in the meantime, I can continue hating it, because I do and there really is very little that can be done to change that.  One person told me I was beautiful every single day.  For a long time.  And I almost, almost believed her...she meant my body, I knew she thought my heart was, but she somehow was capable of making me feel as if the vessel was too...

And then I woke up...