Some Things Never Change

I doubt I am alone when I say that girls were bitches when I was young. I know, I was a bitch too. We have to be bitches to make it in what used to be a man's world. We, as women, have made great strides in today's society. We still don't have a woman in the Masters Clubhouse. We still don't get to join the Mason's. There will always be an "Old Boys Club". I'm okay with that. I want men to do men things, so that I may do things without them as well.

In the same thought process, it is of my opinion that 50 Shades of Grey has become the secret porn hit that it is because we (speaking for women like me) are tired of being the Type A, Alpha Female. We want the fucking pedestal back. I like having my door opened. I like the mystery of NOT KNOWING what a man does in the bathroom. I like a man who'll take charge and be the decision-maker. I'm the chief all day, every day. Please let me be the Indian everywhere else. For just one moment of my life, don't ask my opinion. Don't ask me to handle it. Just do it like you would if I weren't around.

(Insert ADHD moment).  I spent the weekend in Chicago at the Ride the Drive event. It was awesome. It's insanely expensive to live there. (Think $3800 rent downtown). The picture above is my girl in the Grand Ballroom of the Chicago Hilton. (The one on Michigan by Grant Park, not the other. Which is nice too, but not even the same category of great). It's been a pleasant few days. But here's what I've discovered:

1. Tony Schutt and I are not meant to spend time within reaching distance for more than a few hours. We are not nice people. Neither of us have the patience to suck it up and hold in our thoughts.

2. I like nice things. Like, REALLY nice things. I love valet. I mean, if the Kroger had valet, I'd use it. I know it's frivolous and wasteful. But I LOVE IT. I love the cart, the strange man packing my bags, asking if I need directions or a drink, a place to sit. I think courtesy is a dying art.

3.  I think allowing a strange woman to turn down your bed and provide you a mint is ridiculous and you might as well let her tuck you in. If I'm a grown-ass woman and I've not found a way to get between the sheet and comforter yet, I have much greater issues than the needs of the help.

         Back to the point of this snag.  Here we go.     Girls are bitches.
 
The more I try to take the high road, turn the cheek, be the "better" person, the more contact I have with these strange beings. (Please re-read the part where I say I'm a chief ALL THE DAMN TIME).

                    Maybe it is ingrained in us as teenagers that girls are the enemy. Maybe the struggles of competition when we are young is a hard habit to break.
                    I've said a million times (and I shall repeat), until you are comfortable enough in yourself and those people and belongings that you have, you can never make a true, true friend. For some of us, it takes a little longer to get there. Until you are confident enough in yourself and your worth, you will always look at other women as a threat to your relationship, position in life, et cetera.
     A group of women of different ages (much like Lord of the Flies) will establish a leadership pyramid. Such is life. Such is acceptable and expected. The issue with this is that when you have too many chiefs and not enough Indians, things are not effective, efficient or enjoyable for the Indians. Rodney King would say, "Why can't we all just get along?".

The short answer: Because girls are bitches. We are mean to each other and clique up in the same old habits we've lived with since two vaginas fought over a cock in a cave in the beginning of time. If those two women had just learned to share, things could be so much different today.  Give a girl a break. I think most women have a higher opinion of their product than the general population. You're the boss, he's your cock, few others want him or your lot in life. Be confident in who you are and what you have. For god's sake, lighten up, Frances.

Let me not be remiss in inserting here. I've thrown down. I've rolled in gravel. I've slit tires. I've sent those little magazine inserts to addresses from the library. I've put sugar in gas tanks. I've participated in vile, ugly things of which I'm not proud. I try EVERY DAY to be better. To put those habits and episodes behind me. I TRY to turn the other cheek and consider that it is my karma that I am responsible for. I TRY. With that said, I am not behind smacking a bitch down if I see you bully even a stranger to me. I know what it right and wrong. Should I see you bring another grown-ass woman to tears (or myself), do not be shocked when I pull a Drita from Mob Wives on you and roll like a booger.

Back to my endless amount of screens to clean. I feel better already. Happy HO-Liday.

Mother's Day...(Meh)

Everywhere I look, I see posts and cards regarding Mother's Day and the celebrations that follow. If you know me, really know me, you know I've never had much of a female role model. As I've gotten older and had kids of my own, I've discovered I have much less hate for this lacking, but more of a negative score in the respect column for any woman who shares their vagina or nether-region and opts out of what follows. It's not that I feel pity for me but more that I can't seem to grasp how one walks away without at least wondering if said offspring is fed, watered, dressed, abused and a mile of other adjectives that concern any parent.

I've watched parents and family walk away from their injured and sick children while enduring Paige's hospital transfers, and I didn't get it then either. Though Kane has been gone on his senior trip for a week, not a moment has gone by that I haven't wondered if he had enough sense to feed and bathe himself (and hopefully, not gotten into the windowless van with the bum I'm sure they paid to buy alcohol). Note to bum, Florida is a death penalty state, and I'm not afraid to push the limits of the justified homicide concept, if necessary. (There is a place for vigilantism even in today's society).

I've spent a lifetime of hearing the perks of a good mother. Honestly, it sickens me to think that there are women of all ages that exist everywhere who somehow feel left out or less than because a woman chose to skirt her responsibilities.    If anything, it's made us stronger and more independent.

I used to be so jealous of the girls I knew whose mothers smothered them, who were BFFs, who didn't try to gouge each other's eyes out and that there was no mental debate over who the guy who came to your house was really there to see. As I've gotten older, I see that the greatest gift you can give, to a child that you don't intend to care for, is to walk away. 

My advice to you, if you are one of these lowlife skanks, (all disrespect intended), is to walk away. Don't send cards. Don't show up unannounced, uninvited or otherwise, and try to be the parent your child needed at 8 and 13 and 20. Walk away. Stay gone. Don't run into adults and tell them who you are and what your relationship to said child is. If that child's name comes into a conversation you are a part of, clam up. Don't dare attempt to take credit for any part of a life you didn't contribute positively to.

My advice to the motherless (sharing a vagina does not make you a mother) is this: Consider this the greatest gift you could have received. If it took her a little longer to let go, consider that a gift that took a little longer to get. If you have kids, know that even if you do your job poorly (but safely), that you win. Even if your kid doesn't have an iPod or the coolest prom dress or a class ring, you win. 

Suck the positives from every older woman you come in contact with. Know that all those even-barely-older-than-you women are teaching you amazing things that you will not recognize until you, too, are older and the glass is a little cleaner.


For this Mother's Day, I can't help but think of some of these women...Coren Miller, Sheila Furlow, Juanita Martin, Judy Martin, Kitty Williams. You were all women who helped create the thought process that I carry with me today...and I thank you....HMD.