Dragonflies

I have always loved dragonflies.  I'm not sure why I've always found them so beautiful and fascinating, but there you are.  Several years ago I was out with friends and we all got tattoos.  Mine was of a dragonfly.

My husband was disgusted.  Told me he would never have sex with me again.  4 months later I was pregnant with our son.  So much for sticking to his convictions.....
Anyway, my mother was another one who was not happy about the tattoo.  Once she got over me having a tattoo, she was most upset of the placement.  It is on my chest, just above my left breast.  She likes to tell me that when I'm a little old lady ( see previous post....I'm well on my way) it will be all stretched out and look like a praying mantis.  I however an looking forward to the day when I'm 85 and living in a nursing home and known by all the nurses and CNA's as "draggingfly"  I think it's funny, and I assume that I will continue to have my own unique sense of humor as I grow old. 
Everyone should have a nickname and I think mine will be fitting when the time comes.

If I could be serious for a moment

Hi. I have talked to a couple of people who have read my blog posts in the recent past. From these discussions I feel the need to be serious for a moment and clarify the reason for this blog.
This blog is not, never has, and never will be a forum for me to complain about others, blather on about the woes of my life and/or for others to feel sorry for me. I am writing because I was told (wrong or right) that I was funny and I should. I write to show you the reader that while my life holds some hard moments, there can be another way to look at them. I do not believe that my life is any harder than anyone elses. It's just different. I'm not better, more virtuous, funnier or better looking than others, I'm just weird. Strange in my way of thought if you will.
Don't get me wrong, I have my moments of self pity, and what glorious moments they are. But that is not the point of this blog. This is to take a look at moments in my life and find the humor in them, show you that it can be done, and if I can do it, anyone can. For me, it's much easier to get through life with a laugh than with a snot-filled nose and red puffy eyes. My hope is to make you laugh along with me, or at least bring a smile to your face.
And for the record. It still is all about me! ;-)

Paranoia

So I have this "friend". Every time she posts something on facebook (inspirational sayings, funny posts) her soon-to-be-ex is so paranoid he feels the need to ask her if they were meant about him. It may be hard for my "friend" to move on with her life with him being so front and center in her life, but this does not mean that her world revolves around him.
My "friend" likes to put up quotes that inspire her. If she's been hurt by someone (not always/ not even usually her soon-to-be-ex) or about things she needs to work on in her life and herself.
Why then, is the ex so paranoid that every time one of these quotes are posted, he is asking "her" if it was about him. Does this mean that he knows that because of his actions they could apply to him? Does he feel guilty? Is he worried that everyone else will automatically think it's about him? Food for thought.....
Sure glad MY hopefully-soon-to-be-ex isn't like that. ;)

Update on my stalker

So I just heard from my friend that our stalker is back to harassing her.  I guess I'm just not stalking material.  I did find out that he lives a block down the road from me!!!  Yikes!  Let's hope he never realizes how close I am to him as he might turn his attention back to me, and no matter how much I joke, I really really don't want that.  It's one thing to have an old scary "friend" harass you on facebook, it's a whole other kind of crazy to have him showing up on my doorstep.  Let's keep a low profile shall we?

"You're at 'that' age."

I have to say, I am really starting to hate that phrase.  My right wrist has been sore for a month now.  It's not getting better anytime fast.  OK, a little history first:  I was mowing the lawn and fell on my wrist and butt.  Not my most graceful moments I know.  The first thing I did was panic and look around frantically to see if anyone saw me.  When I realized no one had seen, I was grateful, but by then my wrist was throbbing.  A week later my son attacked me and re-injured my wrist.  Yeah me!
After the "attack" I was feeling down and went to Dunkin Donuts and  decided to treat myself.  This is what they did!!!!

Did you see it?  A senior citizen discount!  Let's get this straight: I am not even 40 yet.  I like saving money and receiving deals, but this one did not make me feel better.  In the least.  Really.
Then, the next week I went to the Dr.s  I know it was my neurologist, but I did tell him about how my wrist has been taken so long to heal.  This is when I heard the dreaded line: "Well, You are at that age."
How does he know?  Who decides what "that age" is?  I certainly do not feel like I've reached it----- until I try to bear weight on my wrist---- or get out of bed in the morning.  I've even caught myself making noises when standing up from a seated position.  Oh goodness--- I have reached that age!
I wake every morning thinking I'm still 16 years old- until I move- then I think "oh crap".  But then again I think I'm a size 2 until I see myself in the mirror, or God forbid see my shadow.  So maybe there's hope, maybe I'm not "at that age" but merely delusional in my abstract thinking.  I'll go with that..............