Before anyone panics, this is NOT a post about flatulence, at least not the bodily function. It is more just an out pouring of what is rolling around in my brain of late. Which, by the way, can be every bit as frightening to open up for a peek inside as what one will encounter after someone has farted in the shower. Some days, equally offensive, no doubt about it.
And heck, we all know with a title like “Farting In The Shower”, more than a few of you high tailed it on over here to read this post because you simply couldn’t resist….sickos!
Did you have one of those weekends that just took it’s time going by? I love those! Time did NOT fly when I was having a great time and I’m so thankful for that. I spent all day Saturday (close to 13 hours) with my friend who shall be known as the Teddy Bear. Make no mistake, within that adorable, teddy bear exterior there is a grizzly bear. But unless absolutely necessary, he is a gentle giant. We met some years ago on a dating site and a friendship began. We’ve been trying to get together but schedules were being most uncooperative until this past weekend. But that is another post, it was too nice a time to fall in under a blog post title containing the word “Fart”.
Could someone please tell me what the fascination is with the show, “Duck Dynasty”??? I admit that I only watched about 10 minutes of one episode before scrambling for the remote. I would have rather watched grass grow than another minute of that insanity. Maybe I should have stayed with it? I cannot imagine what draws anyone to it, so please, enlighten me.
*SIGH* It is only 7:13pm, too early to be sipping wine so I’ll have to stick to a cup of coffee for now.
Sometime in the past year or so, I saw this lovely photo moving around Facebook. At first I found it rather amusing, especially coming out of a divorce and several heart breaks since the end of the 22 year marriage to Lord Voldemort. I had slammed on the breaks in dating and relationship land, vowing to remain single for a full year to rediscover me. I am growing used to the idea that no one keeps me and that would tend to lead any normal person to believe that perhaps they are somehow flawed or unlovable. Or both. Though really, Honey Boo Boo’s mama has a boyfriend…someone is keeping her! Granted, she is likely quite well off with all this reality show life they live so the man would be a fool to toss her aside. Then again, he has to look at her, and be with that woman as she belches and farts on a regular basis and does disgusting things like chews food and then hangs her mouth open to give a view of it all. I may have my flaws, but holy mother of all things real, I’m not that bad!
As if that isn’t enough, today on the commute home, I’m listening to the radio and it is the entertainment news update. The headlines: Honey Boo Boo’s mama and her boyfriend, Sugar Bear, who also happens to be Boo Boo’s baby daddy, GOT MARRIED! In a wedding complete with a camo wedding gown. Someone please tell me that he married her for the money, that she is his sugar mama.
I’m seriously a bit concerned here. Just this weekend I was told I am: sexy, cute as a button, fun, intelligent. And yet I remain single while Honey Boo Boo’s mother is M-A-R-R-I-E-D. Has the world gone off it’s rails entirely????
I can deal with the whole turning 50 in less than 2 weeks, even embracing it to be honest.
I am comfy with the fact that I now view life through bifocal glasses, and that if I get contacts again, for distance, I will need to purchase readers or wear bifocal contacts.
I was even able to find the humor in receiving a temporary AARP card and application in the mail.
What I am struggling with is the idea that me, the woman who loved her husband with every cell of my being, with every part of my heart, that adored the man, still got excited at his touch and butterflies in my stomach when he came home, who is certainly far from ugly or disgusting, yet is adored by men then tossed aside once they have my heart (which by the way is never easily given), is single and seemingly destined to be a crazy cat lady! I did not sign up for this, could someone kindly show me where the customer service desk is, I’d like a refund!
OR maybe, just maybe, the problem is not me?
Maybe I am really the amazing woman I was told that I am by all those men who have since walked away, and it is simply that they cannot handle (read: control) me because I am anything but easy? And therefore, in reality, they were not at all worth it?
Hmmm….I think NOW it is time for that glass of wine.
Marti Gardner 