Things Single People Worry About

I worry. About everything. But when I was in a relationship I didn’t worry as much about some things. Now he did cause me to worry a whole lot about other things, but that is a whole different blog altogether! But as a single woman I have found I worry about things some people just don’t understand.

So what do I worry about? What don’t I worry about should be the question! But the other day I was here alone (well, the cats were here, too) and was eating and all of a sudden got choked. Am I gonna be like Mama Cass and die asphyxiated on a sandwich? I don’t wanna go out like that. Then there is the whole dying issue. If/When I die, who is gonna take care of my cats? I think my friend, Kim, is. But it is something to worry about. Also, most women around my age have things in their nightstand drawer that they wouldn’t want people to see. If I die, somebody is gonna see that! I don’t want them to see that. Also, if I died tonight, my house is a wreck! I don’t want someone walking into this pig sty! And I don’t have any immediate family, so is somebody gonna bury me or throw my ashes off Monte Sano Mountain in Huntsville, Alabama? I asked my cousin to do it, but I’ll be dead. How will I know?

There are so many things single people have to worry about that married people don’t. If you have a spouse, be glad. They might help you if you’re choking. Then again, if you are like my ex you might want to see them choke. (Again, different blog.)

I’m Proud To Be A Southerner

I am proud to be a Southerner. I am proud that my Mama raised me to have manners. She also raised me to be strong-willed and resilient. There’s an art to being a Southerner. You can be nice or at least display manners while giving a good dig. (Passive aggressiveness at its best.) We can bless your heart and make you wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse. And that all depends on the tone of voice. You have to be clever around Southerners. Pay attention to what we say and what we don’t say.

Another thing I am extremely proud of is my hometown. I am from Huntsville, Alabama. The Rocket City. I saw on National Geographic’s website a great homage to my hometown…Rocket City Rednecks. I got teary-eyed viewing the page. That’s where I am from. I worked at Marshall Space Flight Center and met some of the nicest people in the world there. I met people who made history. It was amazing. So for all the people who like to make jokes about how stupid Southerners are, maybe you need to come on to Huntsville and see where the United States of America’s space program was born.  http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/rocket-city-rednecks/producer-blog/welcome-to-the-rocket-city/

I also love the food of the South. Sorry but biscuits and gravy are absolutely heaven! I like some fried chicken. I love barbecue and some hot vinegar barbecue sauce. I also love some white barbecue sauce which I have only seen in Huntsville, Alabama. Dip a hushpuppy in that and you will be a quiet and happy puppy!

There are other areas of the South that are quite beautiful as well. I currently live in Asheville, North Carolina and it is gorgeous. There is a charm and beauty here that is unrivaled. The art scene here is magnificent. I think our art could stand up to any of the major cities.

You have to experience the South to “get it.” And that doesn’t mean coming down South with a snotty attitude or thinking you’re better because that is when a Southerner will give you hell. As nice as we can be, we can also be that ornery.

I have lived in other areas and couldn’t wait to get below the Mason Dixon. I needed the drawls and sweet tea and grits. I can’t survive without hearing “y’all” at least once during the day. I need these things like I need air.

Thanks, National Geographic, for bringing me closer to “home.”

God bless the USA and especially the Southern States.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Life Is a Soap Opera

These are the days of my life…and boy are they crazy! I don’t think a soap opera writer could write them any better! Hmmm…remember that movie where there was someone writing what the guy was living? Maybe that is my life! It sure feels like it!

Drama! Drama! At least I play myself quite well. I think I would rather have Sandra Bullock play the part, though. I like her. I think she would make a good stand in for me. I don’t know her personally but the characters she has played often remind me of myself. Or maybe I’m just a little narcissistic. Who knows?! Afterall, my life is a soap opera.

This has been the month of exes! I must be abso-freaking-lutely amazing because quite a few exes have been in my life in the last month. One came back to apologize. I was impressed. Not many men do that. Upstanding thing to do. He and I are now friends on Facebook and we send a “Hey!” here and there. The other ex–the most recent ex–had blocked me on Facebook. (I was so bad he wanted to pretend I didn’t exist.) OK. Fine. Be that way. Life goes on. Right? So Friday I get this thing on Facebook stating “Jerk (I use this name instead of his real name to protect him and me) suggests you check out his page.” Hey, Jerk, no! We’re not friends. We’re exes. We didn’t part on good terms. You owe me an apology. Why would I want to check out your page? Now he didn’t send a friend request. I think that was the toe in the water to see if it was cold. It is. Ice cold. Frigid. Now if he apologized there might be some warmth to the water. I forgave already because I am supposed to. But there still needs to be a HUGE apology or multiple apologies. While I may have forgiven, I sure didn’t forget!

So this morning I get up and take my shower and am doing my thing. Get a text on my phone. The nice ex seems to be saying he didn’t realize I lived in Asheville now. Come on! You looked me up on Facebook to find me but didn’t realize where I was living now? It’s not hidden. He acted surprised by the fact.

So what is up with the soap opera? Am I the only one who lives one?

Tune in tomorrow…or maybe later today if more drama arises. (P.S. I must have had an impact, though. Years later and some of them still can’t forget me!)

Elizabeth 8-30-11

Elizabeth walked in the back door and immediately put her keys in the bowl on the counter and everything else on the kitchen table. She was tired. She had listened to people talk for 6 hours about problems and she had a slight headache. She loved helping people but today she didn’t feel like she helped. Basically she listened as they droned on and on. When she tried to give input about their situations they were resistant and often angry. She knew it was part of the process but today it had worn her out.

Looking in the fridge she realized she was going to have to place an order to some place. She really wasn’t in the mood for pizza. She told herself she was going to have to go to the grocery store. Ordering out was not healthy and was not really appealing either. But she was too tired to truly cook. She did have the ingredients to make a full-fledged cooked meal but it was already 7 o’clock and she was tired. No. She was ordering. She decided on a new place that you could place an order through for various restaurants in town and they would deliver for a fee. It was worth the fee to not have to cook.

After placing her order Elizabeth jumped in the shower. It was going to take her order at least an hour to get there and she wanted to relax. A bubble bath would feel better but she also hadn’t cleaned the tub yet and she would likely fall asleep in it anyway. Warm snuggly sweats and socks and she felt much better.

Her food arrived within the specified time frame and she was quite pleased. She was not looking forward to pizza again so having a real meal of chicken and rice and vegetables seemed like a luxury. Again, she reminded herself that she definitely needed to go to the grocery store. She loved the meal she purchased, but she could have honestly made it for herself for half the price and she felt a little guilty.

She didn’t know why she felt guilty. It wasn’t as if her purchase was taking away from anyone else. That was the beauty and curse of being single and 40. You could buy whatever you wanted without answering to anyone else. She felt frivolous, though. It was as if she should have spent that money on something else. As a therapist she would have told a client that those feelings were a way of dealing with disapproval from some point in her life and that at this point in her life she didn’t have to justify how she lived to anyone as long as she lived above the law. And while that made sense to her at a logical level, it didn’t quite hit home at a deeper level. She shook her head and tried to make the therapist portion of herself shut down. She just wanted to be. That meant she wanted to be in the moment as a human and not analyze life. She wanted to just breathe in and out and allow herself to shut the brain switch to barely functioning. She had to be on all day and be ready with a response on the fly. She wanted to just be.

After putting away her dishes and leftovers Elizabeth decided that watching TV in bed might turn that switch to off. Lying in a comfortable, warm cocoon was always relaxing. She brushed her teeth and hopped in the large king size bed. Her bed was another one of those things that she used to have guilt over, but after the first week of comfortable sleep she got over that. She had trouble sleeping all her life and she felt so good to finally really rest. Her bed was not a guilty pleasure; it was a medical necessity.

She arranged the pillows in just the right way and lay back. She wanted something interesting but not too entertaining or else she would never go to sleep. It was early yet but tomorrow was Friday and that was her short day in the office. She needed to be there by 9am and would finish by 1:30. Looking over at the clock she chuckled. It wasn’t even 11. Actually it was just 10. But it had been a long day. She decided the History Channel would be a good choice. It had some good shows and the narrator’s voices were usually pretty soothing. She made sure to set the sleep timer on the TV so it would shut off after a while. Closing her eyes she listened to the tale of the American Revolution.