The Burning Bush – Moses Wasn’t the Only One!

Back when I was a child (in the 60’s) I knew that smoking cigarettes wasn’t good for your health. I came up with that conclusion long before the Surgeon General did.

Both of my parents smoked, and I hated it. The whole house smelled – I could never get away from it. We lived on a military base where a carton of cigarettes which consisted of 10 packs, cost only $3. These days one pack costs between $6 to $8. 

When I was about 9, my best friend, Melissa, and I decided to try smoking. I managed to get the cigarettes from my parent’s stash and Melissa got the matches. We decided that the safest place to smoke was underneath a large bush behind her house. And, being in Nebraska, there weren’t that many trees.

Oh, I forgot to mention that Melissa’s father was the second highest ranking officer at the Air Force Base where we lived. They lived at the top of a hill that overlooked the entire base. 

I remember it was a lovely day with few clouds in the sky and zero wind. There we were under our bush…it took us many attempts and some near misses, but we got the match to light! 

We thought we were so cool. There we were coughing our lungs out when the wind whipped up out of nowhere. Not sure whose cigarette started it, but the bush caught on fire. Since we were on the only hill in the entire base, our little wiener roast did not go unnoticed.

Within minutes, the base Fire Department put it out with the M.P.s (military police) standing at the ready as backup. Shortly after that, Melissa’s father joined the group, so we decided to have a party. Not! But wishing it were so.

My father went ballistic, not because I tried smoking, but because I got caught doing so. He was an NCO (non-commissioned officer with the rank of Master Sergeant) and having his daughter being caught smoking with the daughter of the second highest ranking officer on the base…well, it did not end well. He got called out on that one. Really? Though he wasn’t the one that lit the cigarette that set the bush on fire, the military saw it that way.

See, smoking is dangerous to your health and I was one of the first to find that out!

Until the next time...

What Kind of Closet is This?

If asked what my dream house would look like, one of the very basic requirements would be a huge walk-in closet. I love to organize, and I like every piece of clothing, purses, scarves and shoes to have their very own cubbies. 

My last house in Virginia had such a closet. It had space for hanging clothes, shelves, a storage area, and next to that more space for hanging clothes. It was that area that I turned into a small private office. That was some closet! I loved hanging out in there. What privacy and solitude I experienced.

Up to that point in my life, I thought of closets as places to store things in and not a place to come out of. But come out I did, because at age 49, I realized I was gay and had been my entire life. It was a real shock to me since I had been dating since I was 19. Plus, I had two ex-husbands and was married at the time to future ex-husband number three.

Let me tell you, coming out in Northern Virginia was quite an experience. I had people tell me it was a phase that I would soon tire of and that I was acting out to get attention. And the way they described my coming out was, “Sharon? She changed horses in mid-stream.” or “Sharon’s going through a mid-life crisis, probably due to menopause.” Oh please! 

The reason I came out was because I finally met a person who treated me as the wonderful, loving, funny, attractive, creative creature that I was. She didn’t try to mold me into someone I wasn’t and she understood what made me tick. 

The men in my life were always demanding me to be someone I wasn’t. To them I wasn’t thin enough, attractive enough, well-educated enough and so forth. Also, I did not have breasts to their liking. All I ever wanted from a man was to be appreciated for who I was, and not for what they wanted me to be.

During my years married, I read a lot of romantic novels to keep me content and in my place. The plot line was always the same - the heroine would find a man who immensely annoyed her, but due to a maze of inspired-by-evil events, he rescues her. At the end of the story, he becomes her prince charming, and they live happily ever after. 

Unfortunately, in real life, as we all know, it isn’t that simple. The problem was I couldn’t be someone I wasn’t and never could be. Once I had that epiphany, my life changed for the better.

Being a Lesbian at any age isn’t easy nor is it without its trauma-filled moments. Try getting a divorce from a white male, and a Republican to boot in a Southern  state.  A big oops! One finds out very quickly who really are the open-minded liberals and also the ones who pretend to be….and never were.

Another one of life’s lessons learned: you fill up your closet with lots of stuff so one can hide from the world about who you really are. It gets so crowded in there that you need to come out, just to be able to breathe and be your true self.

What is Forgiveness & What is Trust?

Forgive – to cease to feel resentment

Trust – assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something

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Many years ago there was an incident that resulted in the two of us not being allowed to participate in any of Mary’s family gatherings. Being told that we couldn’t attend any events, made me a raging bitch because of how devastated Mary was. Due to my behavior, her family felt they had made the right decision.

Over the past several years, Mary has slowly rebuilt communications with her family. I have been very outspoken about my feelings on her mission to rebuild relations with them. I went from being appalled in her attempts to mend fences, to accepting that this is what Mary needs. Being an only child, I have no understanding of the desire to remain in contact with family or friends who have hurt you.

For years, Mary has told me that I should get over my anger and forgive those individuals involved. I have not been receptive to her advice. And, here’s why.

Due to my own long-running history, I have developed a serious trust issue with people that I’ve dealt with over the years. For example; friends, co-workers, health insurance companies, government and state agencies, and even the random stranger appearing out of nowhere, wanting to berate me.

The other day I was speaking to a friend about Mary’s wish that I forgive members of her family. The trust word came up and I had an epiphany. I could forgive them, but could I trust them? Could I ever get over the feeling that given the opportunity, they would throw me under a bus or stab me in the back? And, I felt I couldn’t.

That is until I went to a recent church service. The second reading from Galatians 5:1, 13-25 made me think about the situation I had created. “For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.”

I have found that forgiveness is necessary for me to move on and to continue my life journey. How I will forgive is now the question. 

Do I go directly to these individuals? Or do I write down my forgiveness, burn the paper, and send it out to the universe? 

Until the next time…

The Vultures Among Us...

My future ex-husband #3 and I had purchased a piece of property about an hour west of Washington, D.C. It was six acres of grass, woods and a dried-up creek. I would have preferred a creek with water running through it, but that wasn’t an option.

To get to our house, you had to drive over a one-lane bridge. I always liked that part because from a distance, I could see the tops of the trees on our property. That all changed one Fall day.

I looked up as I was crossing the bridge, and I saw many vultures flying over the treetops of our property. What the hell? In my lifetime, I had never personally seen one vulture, much less a whole flock. Oh, it gets even better. I made it around the bend and started up the driveway to our house. There was a vulture sitting on our mailbox! And, there were many more sitting on dozens of tree branches. I’m not good at guessing crowd sizes (kinda like Trump), but there had to be 30 to 50 of them, not including the ones circling over our property.

I didn’t have a clue as to why they were there and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know. I waited until future ex-husband #3 came home from work. He had no suggestions as to why this was happening. At least there were now two of us trying to figure out what was going on.

It was getting dark and we decided that it was the wrong time of the day to go looking for the cause. The next morning, we walked down to where they were roosting. It was scary. They just sat on the branches and just stared at us. Then we found the cause. There was a carcass of a deer laying near the creek. It had been picked clean. 

Okay folks, this posting is no longer about birds. It’s about the human vultures among us.

There are so many individuals in this world that are evil. We can’t hide from that. What happened in Charlottesville on August 12, 2017, is a moment in history in which a group of individuals showed their vulture nature. Unlike Trump’s view on this horrible event, there was only one side that was the root of this tragedy. It was the white nationalists. They were “the vultures.”

Humanity took a nose dive that day. We cannot remain silent to that event or any other in these past three years. We must rise above their mentality and bring back justice and freedom to our society.

Remember, we are all immigrants unless you are a Native American. I don’t know how to rid ourselves of these degenerates, but we need to come together as a consolidated group of Americans. Or what happened in Germany during World War II will repeat itself.

HOME OF THE FREE – BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE

We all need to become brave and raise our voices against a group of people who want all of us to lose our freedoms because we are minorities and immigrants.

What can we do? I don’t have that answer, but I do want to find a way to be heard. What about you?

Until the next time...

What Came First: Writer's Block or PTSD?

I have wanted to be published for many years. The problem was, I’d had writer’s block for over 36 of those years. Back when I was 17, I was a student in Mr. H’s English class at Lincoln East High School in Lincoln, Nebraska. He was also the coach for one of our athletic teams, but I don’t remember which one. 

One of our assignments was to describe something in vivid detail. For my story, I chose Toby, my mother’s Newfoundland dog. Well, Mr. H. used my work to point out that I anthropomorphized my character. And he did so with a relish. Though he didn’t name who the student was, he looked directly at me during his entire tirade.

To say I was humiliated was an understatement. It was bad enough that I tried to hide from everyone in a school where the population was over 2,000.  I especially tried to hide from the football and basketball teams. They loved to grab my books and throw them in the trash can on a regular basis, and that was minor compared to the other things that they succeeded in doing. 

That experience in Mr. H’s English class, caused me to slip even farther down the rabbit hole, which isn’t healthy, especially for a 17-year old with no viable-support system.

Flash forward, I am now 65-years old. As of today, there have been over 67,000 views on my blog! My plan is to post every Sunday between 2 p.m. and 11:59 p.m.

The very insecure little girl in me is so thrilled. I’ve had many readers’ mention how much they have enjoyed my postings and that they look forward to reading more! What do you think of that, Mr. H?

Until the next time...

How I Became a Diva...

I was five when we left Okinawa where my father had been stationed at the Air Force Base. We were re-assigned to the Air Force Base in Lincoln, Nebraska.

I spoke a mixture of English and Japanese and it made sense to me and my parents. Unfortunately, the staff at General Arnold Elementary felt that it was inappropriate upon entering Kindergarten that I didn’t speak English.

They decided I would best be kept in the corner of the classroom until I spoke fluent English. Meaning, I wouldn’t be able to participate in class activities or socialize with the other students. Now to some people this seems like a drastic measure for a child to experience.

Not for me. I was thrilled. I had my own easel board and paints. I had my own nap-pad where I didn’t have to share germs. Plus, I had a corner office! There are adults who would step over each other to have such a space.

I’m an only child and my parents weren’t very sociable. We didn’t participate in any activities such as church or neighborhood gatherings. As a result, I never had much interaction with other kids. So being separated from the rest of my classmates wasn’t as traumatic for me as it would have been for other children.

I have pleasant memories of keeping myself entertained and enjoying my personal space. I did mingle with my classmates. Just not as much as I might have, had I been fully participating in classroom activities. By second semester, I could speak fluent English, but I failed to mention it. I was content with my corner and my own easel board!

I suffered through several teenage girls assigned to babysit me. I remember they always watched TV and didn’t acknowledge my presence. By age 8, my mother gave up on the sitter idea and I basically took care of myself. The original latch-key kid. After school, I would come home and entertain myself with TV shows. I especially liked Perry Mason and I Love Lucy. What a life!

There was a toy store in downtown Lincoln called “Toy Castle.” I made friends with the owners. I ended up calling them Aunt and Uncle. They found me interesting and invited me to their home for overnight visits. Their daughter was by now a teenager, so I guess having a little kid around was fun for them. Not your typical kid thing, but definitely a Diva move!

For many years I didn’t present myself as a Diva because the people I associated with would not have understood where I was coming from. When I worked at Smith College however, my work-study students were quick to point out my Diva qualities. Ah, so nice to be finally recognized. And the rest is history.

Until next time…

Witticisms I’ve Collected Along the Way - Chapter 2

I cannot take credit for these wonderful witticisms. I found almost all of these in the latest catalog that I recently received from Catalog Favorites.

Attitude

·        A fun thing to do in the morning is not talk to me.

·        I’ll see your hot mess and raise you a walking disaster.

·        I’m not mean, I’m brutally honest. It’s not my fault truth hurts. Here’s a band aid.

·        I don’t have ducks. I don’t have a row. I have squirrels and they’re drunk.

·        I don’t care what people think of me. I’m busy. I’ve got MAGICAL shit to do.

·        It only takes one slow-walking person in the grocery store TO DESTROY THE ILLUSION THAT I’M A NICE PERSON.

·        If I was a bird, I know who I’d shit on.

·        If I give you a straw, will you suck the fun out of someone ELSE’S DAY?

    Statements of Truth

·        If you’re happy and you know it, it’s your meds.

·        Dust once. It came back. Not falling for that again.

·        Camping: Where you spend a small fortune, to live like a homeless person.

·        The more you weight, the harder you are to kidnap. Stay Safe. Eat Cake.

·        The 12-step chocoholics program. Never be more than 12 steps away from chocolate.

·        If you can’t remember my name, just say “Chocolate” and I’ll turn around.

·        Line dancing was started by women waiting to use the bathroom.

·        To me “drink responsibly” means don’t spill it.

·        Today I was a hero! I rescued some beer that was trapped in a bottle.

·        My GPS says, “estimated time of arrival.” I see “time to beat” and the game is on…

·        My GPS has learned to say “your other left.”

·        I hate it when the voices in my head go silent…I never know what they are planning.

·        I have a daughter. I also have a gun, a shovel and a alibi.

·        Being an adult is like folding a fitted sheet.

·        On the surface: cool as a cucumber. On the inside: squirrel in traffic.

Aging Gracefully

·        My Bucket List: 1.) Keep Breathing.

·        Over what hill? I don’t remember any hill.

·        The older I get, the earlier it gets late.

·        I thought growing old would take longer.

·        The Golden Years have come at last! I cannot pee, I cannot see, my budget shrinks, my memory stinks. The Golden Years can kiss my ass!

·        I came, I saw, I forgot what I was doing. Retraced my steps, got lost on the way back. Now I have no idea what’s going on.

·        Don’t grow up, it’s a trap.

·        I don’t have grey hair. I have wisdom highlights.

·        Go braless…it will pull the wrinkles out of your face!

More Unicorn Tails

·       Sometimes, I question my sanity. But the Unicorn in the kitchen told me I’m fine.

·        He told be I was delusional. I nearly fell off my Unicorn.

·        Always be yourself. Unless you can be a Unicorn then always be a Unicorn.