I used to talk to my best friend almost every day sometimes twice a day. There was nothing we didn’t talk about: politics, family, boyfriends and girlfriends, sex, and religion. I didn’t see anything strange with our relationship it was just natural. I traveled quite a lot during my tenure with one of my previous jobs. I would talk to my best friend before I caught my plane and I would talk to him once I reached my destination. I remember even talking with him on the phone when I was on a tour bus coming back from the Grand Canyon. I mean I could talk on the phone with him for hours and never run out of things to say. I was confident in saying that he was my best friend.
Over the years, I’ve lost count of the times when he’s helped me with whatever my problems were. Sometimes I would call him first before I called my own brothers. If my car didn't start, he would pick me up from or take me to work. He helped me shovel snow, paint my living and dining rooms, and he even went grocery shopping for my mother when I couldn’t. This relationship was not one sided. I would do anything he needed me to do too. I’ve picked up his children from school and visited his parents when he was out of town.
I thought I knew everything there was to know about my best friend until his aunt died. Upon hearing about his aunt’s death, I made potato salad, a couple of cakes, and picked up some chicken from the grocery store to take to his parents’ house. I tried to comfort him by hugging him; he pulled away from me and almost ran into the wall to avoid my embrace.
I stood there feeling like a fool in front of his entire family. What made it worse was that he hugged everyone else that dropped by to offer condolences to his family. He hugged everyone except me. This hurt me more than I could imagine, but it made me realize something about myself. I led myself to believe that my relationship with my friend was more than what it was.
He behaved as if nothing had occurred and carried on like normal. When I tried to discuss what happened in his parents’ home, my friend ignored me and wouldn’t talk about the situation. He had the audacity to tell me that it was my imagination. After a lot of soul-searching, I concluded that he wasn’t the one with a problem. I was. For all these years, he was friendly with me, but he wasn’t actually my friend. How could I have been so blind? I found out that he generally treated everyone the same and I was no different from anyone else in his life.
Needless to say, I don’t feel the same way about my ex-best friend. It wasn’t his fault that I thought I was more valuable than I was. I still see his parents when he’s not about, I don’t talk to him as much; however, I do see his children from time to time. Over the years, I’ve learned not to expect more from people than they’re willing to give. I’ve learned to care for people just because, without any expectations of them caring about me. Life is full of learning experiences, without them we wouldn’t evolve. I’ve since learned who my true friends are, and they’re there for me just like I’m there for them. My friends don't deny my friendship or my hugs.
Blinded By The Truth
What is the truth? Twenty people can look at the same movie and have twenty different interpretations of the movie. It doesn’t mean that their interpretations were wrong it just means that people perceive things differently. So when I’m told about a certain situation my impression of that story is based on who’s telling the story. I always try to tell the truth except in cases where I know my version of the truth will cause damage.
Sometimes my demeanor is less than pleasing to those who incessantly seek attention because it’s my natural inclination to ignore these types of people. Why did I bring this up? Last Sunday was the first time I’ve been to church since my release from the hospital. It was good to be back to Sunday School and listen to the children sing during church service. I walked around greeting members and hugging friends. I avoided one member like the plague. This person in question has a way of making everything about her; let me give you some examples. When this person’s daughter moved away, she said a prayer wishing that her daughter would get her head straight and stop hanging with certain people.
One Sunday morning this person’s mother didn’t show up for church, and this woman called and left twenty messages on her mother’s answering machine. Did she go to her mother's house to check and make sure that all was well? No! She just told everyone that she passed how upset she was about her mother. My observation of her actions led me to believe that she was less concerned about her mother, but more determined that people think she cared.
I’ve had several run-ins with the woman in question because, I’m probably not as tolerant as I should be and if you’re acting like a horse’s ass, I’m going to tell you so. I made the mistake of recommending that this person go to my hairdresser to get her haircut. She's so annoying and persnickety about her hair (doesn’t even have a dime’s worth of hair) that she’s been banned from my hairdresser’s shop.
One time we were giving a party for our choir director and I said I would bring fried chicken. This woman went on and on for twenty minutes about the type of chicken I was bringing to the party. Finally, I just walked and left her standing there talking to herself. I know that I was deliberately being obtuse, but the only thing I could say was FRIED! You know, not, broiled, not baked, not rotisserie but fried. Now in the back of my mind, I was thinking that maybe she wanted to know where I was getting the chicken, but she didn’t ask me that so I didn’t tell her, and it wasn’t any of her business anyway.
For some reason, every time the missionaries or any auxiliary has a program this woman is asked to pray. Her prayers are far-reaching and long. She prays for everyone in the world and has to identify each country individually. The only group she doesn’t pray for are the ones who have to listen to her long drawn out prayers. Another thing that irritates me about this woman is the fact that when she gets the spirit, it seems to be for “show”. When the mass choir sings certain songs this woman feels the spirit exactly when we get to a part of the song she doesn’t know. Another choir member brought this to my attention; I didn’t believe this to be true until I started paying attention to her emotional and loud outbursts.
There are about 4-5 songs that this woman doesn’t know the words. Does she read the words on the paper provided for her? No! She just starts screaming thank you Lord! Now if you’ve ever felt the spirit it doesn’t just last for a minute or two, or when the song ends. Those feelings encompass you and you can be engaged or immersed in the spirit for hours or all day. I think it’s an insult to God and to us to pretend otherwise, but then again who am I to judge maybe she does feel the spirit during the same exact moment every time we sing certain songs.
I guess you realize that I don’t particularly care for this woman. Well on last Sunday she hugged me and told me that she was glad that I was back and that she even missed my insults. I told her that I don’t make insults I only speak the truth; of course, that’s my take on the situation. During church service, I sat there thinking if I’ve been too hard on the woman in question. The answer I came up with is certainly not, my mother always said if you can’t say anything good about a person try to stay off their radar. I think that sometimes people know you don’t like them, so they try to push themselves on you no matter how you try to avoid them.
So what’s the moral of the story? Well there isn’t one! God made everyone different and unique. Frankly, we’re not going to like everyone we meet whether they’re at church, work, class, or bible study. I don’t think God expects you to like everyone, but I think people are put into our lives so that we may learn from them. I honestly think this woman from my church is mentally unstable and placed in my life to show me tolerance and respect. When I think about this woman with my rational mind and not torment, I see a person who constantly feels like everyone is against her and acts accordingly. I’m not arrogant enough to believe that everyone likes or is pleased to see me when I walk in the room, but maybe God put me in their lives to teach them a lesson too. I don’t ever want to become blinded by the truth!
Bully
When I was a kid, there used to be a family that lived up the street from my parent’s house that looked like a pack of wild dogs. To say they were ugly wouldn’t even scratch the surface of this family’s affliction. Now, just because you’re ugly on the outside doesn’t mean you have to be ugly on the inside. The youngest daughter of this family lets for the sake of this story call her Bull Dog; Bull Dog is a few years older than me and she was just a straight up bitch.
When the neighborhood kids would play kick soccer, or baseball in the empty lots. Bull Dog would give me the blues, granted she never did this when my siblings were present. She was the only person in her family that acted that way, the rest of her siblings were quite pleasant. One time we were playing baseball, it was my turn to bat, and she snatched the bat out of my hand because she didn’t want me touching her bat. To say she had considerable hate for me would be an understatement.
Bull Dog had this cousin who used you to stare at people all the time. When I was in fourth grade, I pulled a ligament in my right ankle and had to wear a cast. So I wasn’t able to run around the neighborhood and play like the other kids. One day Bull Dog’s cousin was riding by my house in her mother’s car, and she kept staring at me until I flipped her off and stuck out my tongue. Well finally, a response, Bull Dog’s cousin returned the favor. Now I know that in doing this, I escalated my problem with Bull Dog. Sure enough later that week I saw Bull Dog on the playground, and she told me that I was going to get my butt kicked. This went on for about a year; she would threaten me at every turn. I wasn’t really scared because I figured if she was going to fight me up it would have occurred already.
Finally, when I was in fifth grade I was sent to the principal’s office for something I’m sure wasn’t my fault. On my way down the steps, I encountered Bull Dog; she walked up the stairs without saying anything. When she got further up the stairs, she looked down on me and said, “You’re still going to get your butt kicked.” I turned around, came back up the stairs, and told her how about today. I was already in trouble, and I wanted to hurt someone and Bull Dog was going to provide me with the outlet I needed. She must have seen the crazy in my face because she never bothered me or spoke to me again after that day.
Now this is my own opinion, but I think this generation of kids coming up today are substantially weaker than when I was a kid. If someone was bullying you, essentially making your life a living hell once you whipped their ass they recognized your strength whether it physical or mental and they left you the hell alone. Not only has the law weakened the parents’ ability to correct their children, parents have given up their parenting rights by trying to be their kids friends. A grown person can’t be a child’s friend unless something is wrong with the adult. Parents please act like parents and stop trying to ease your way out of confrontations with your kids by giving them everything they want.
Not only are parents trying to be their kids friends, they watch their children bully other kids and do nothing to stop it. I was at my hairdresser’s house and this pregnant dummy with two little boys was there getting her hair done. The oldest boy was three probably a little older, and he was beating the crap out of the 18 month old. Do you know what the dumbass mother said to the crying 18 month old? "Yeah baby I know big brother can be so mean." Yes, this trick actually said that. I was sitting under the dryer thinking that she should grab that little brat and paddle his butt.
He got tired of knocking his little brother around and tried to beat my hairdresser’s son; well he wasn’t having it and he punched that little brat in the head. This woman has two boys she can’t do anything with and has another baby on the way. I found out later that she had another little boy. I told my hair dresser that the woman’s oldest boy was going to be on the news before he was seventeen for either shooting someone or he’s going to get shot.
Another trend I’ve seen is the “everyone is a winner” crap that schools are trying to pump up. This false sense of reality is making kids believe that they’re winners no matter what they do; these kids are being set up to fail. My parents told me that somebody’s got to win, and somebody’s got to lose, but learn how to be a gracious winner and loser. The Controllers even wrote a song about it, remember somebody’s got to win, lose, laugh, cry, and almost die.
As I think back, there is one thing that still holds true; I didn’t tell anyone in my family that Bull Dog was bothering me on a daily basis. I kept that to myself because it was my problem and I wanted to handle it all by myself. How do we bridge this gap with children to make them understand that they need to tell someone when they’re having problems? I just found out this year that my sister was being bullied on the bus in grade school by Pookie, one of my friend’s sisters.
This heffa was smiling in my face when I came over to visit my friend, and she was making my sister’s life hell on the school bus every day. Had I know this was taking place I would have planted my fist in Pookie’s face. My sister knew this and her way of defusing the situation was not telling anyone about her problems. Which is funny because my sister is one of those quiet laid-back people who don’t get mad until you do that one little thing and then they explode; unfortunately or fortunately, her son is just like her.
There are some real adult situations that children are trying to work their way through which they are ill equipped to handle. There’s no cookie cutter solution to this problem. Parents' better wake up and find out what their kids are into or they’re going to hear about it on the evening news. Worse yet, when they see their children’s faces splattered on YouTube. At least Bull Dog knew when to quit, that’s the problem with bullies these days they don’t know when to stop and children are getting murdered or killing themselves when they should be living carefree lives.
CEO For the Club for FAT Women
I don’t know when it happened, but I am the new CEO for The Club for Fat Women. Let me clue you in on the details.
Okay there are many morbidly obese women were I work, and they’re always commenting on how I dress and style my hair. At first, I was flattered and tried to tell them that they also could look fabulous as fat women.
As the weeks went by it became a little irritating, there is one woman I pass in the hall every day (she is leaving as I come to work). At first, her comments were; I like that blouse, I love the color of your skirt, and the beadwork on your jacket is beautiful. Now her comments are, why do you dress so nice for work, do you have another job that you have to dress-up for; you must have your eye on some man working here?
Another fat woman at work comments on my clothing by telling me why she would never wear anything like whatever it is I’m wearing. Of course, the woman in question is the epitome of every disgusting thing I've seen a woman say or do.
She told me that, as a fat woman, she would never wear anything that would leave her arms hanging out, but she has no compulsion about letting her ass and stomach hang out. I mean she wears the tightest t-shirts that of course ride above her “done lapped over” belly. She also has the audacity to wear short-shorts; you know what I'm talking about. Those shorts that are so short that your underwear is showing. Yes, the underwear is also two sizes too small, so there is an enormous triangle in the middle of her butt. In addition, when this woman speaks the only thing I can see is the scum on her teeth from the food she ate two weeks ago.
Now the last woman I’m going to mention downright repulses men because she makes a better man than they do. This woman has more hair (whiskers) on her face than she has hair on her head. She just sits there, scratches herself, and tells me how good I smell.
Being the
woman I am you know I had a response for these women. I let them know under no uncertain terms that I am not a charter member or the CEO of The Club for Fat women. In addition, I was raised in a household were hygiene was a home training issue. I style my hair, wear make-up, smell good because those are just things that a “WOMAN” does!
Being fat does not mean that you’re not entitled to look and smell good. I do not need the poorest excuses of womanhood, smelling, telling, and showing me their interpretation of how a fat woman should dress, act, or smell.
There is never a good time for a fat woman to smell like rotten cabbage. There is never a good time for a fat woman to wear clothes two sizes too small that shows every ripple and roll. Last but certainly not least, a fat woman can never be ashamed to show the world that she is beautiful.
Of course, having said those things, I realized that I could be the CEO of The Club for Fat Women. The motto is we are Fine, Attractive, and Together and if you don’t feel that you are any of those things you NEED NOT APPLY FOR MEMBERSHIP!
Change
In life, nothing remains the same. Every day we encounter some new twist that changes us forever. The first day of school, first kiss, loss of virginity, birth of a child, new job, college, etc. Its fate and we find ourselves in the turn style of life unable to control our surroundings. In reality, you can only control your own actions. I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about life’s tragedies. I’ve heard that trouble doesn’t last always. When you’re in the midst of the trouble, it seems to linger on forever.
I was interviewing my mother as the “spotlight” member for my church’s newsletter. We were discussing her life and noted similarities between her plight and her granddaughters. My mother was abandoned by her mother, so her grandparents stepped in and raised her as their own.
Out Of Darkness Page 6