Alphabet soup

I know memes are considered lazy to some, but I actually LIKE to read them. Only tagging my co-blogger, but please tell me in the comments if you decide to do it…or just pick one or two you want to answer…pr make fun of my answers…it’s all good.

A – An advantage you have – Being white, born in USA to parents who valued education (being a sassy redhead doesn’t hurt, either)

B – Bed size-King, though my current sleep mate is a cat and I only take up a small portion of the bed. However, when (IF) I have another bed companion the King becomes imperative as I like snuggling but CANNOT stand to sleep tangled up.

C – Chore you hate – Cleaning out the litter box. I particularly hate it when that bitchy, superior feline comes to watch me do it as if to underline the fact that I am cleaning up her shit.

D – Dad’s name – Poppa/Herbie/Do you want me to call the home?

E – Essential start of your day – Wash my face and have a coca-cola.

F – Favorite color – Purple. Yes, it is the favorite of tween girls, but I still claim it…and I don’t much like tween girls.

G– Gold or Silver--I’ve turned to a Silver person the past couple of years, but was gold for most of my life

H – Habit you have – Calling my Cistern a “Bitch” whenever possible to fit it into the conversation

I – Issue you consider important—This month it would have to be my outrage over conservatives marginalizing women and wanting “smaller government” but at the same time wanting far too much say about my vagina and wanting to tell me what SHOULD and SHOULD not happen there. I use birth control, have for 20+ years. I’m a slut, fine, whatever.

J – Job title –Bitch Goddess (pay is shitty, but it’s quite entertaining)

K – Kids—none that I birthed. Nieces 11 ½ and 3, Nephews 8 and 3. The oldest belong to the cistern, the twins belong to my brother.

L – Living arrangements – Renting a house that I hope to buy. It has a red door, a million windows, is a ½ mile from Cistern’s house, and I love, love love it!

M – Mustard or ketchup—both, but if I could only have one it would be mustard. I hate mayonnaise with few exceptions. It disgusts me that my sister puts it on hot dogs.

Nicknames – bitch, cistern, Maggie Moo

O – Overnight hospital stay – neck surgery (1 night), work-up for chest pain (2 nights) Family history of people dropping dead from cardiac issues got me more attention than I wanted, but I appreciate the concern.

P – Pet Peeve –people who use the last of something without replacing it or telling anyone, people who don’t follow the damned rules at a 4-way Stop—you are NOT doing me a favor if you don’t go when it is your fucking turn, typos in profiles on dating sites. Shut up! I’m single, I don’t do church or bars. Gimme a break.

Q – Quote that you like most – Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.
--Emerson

R – Right or left handed – Right

S – Siblings – one sister, one brother. I’m the oldest, and managed not to kill either of them growing up. Miracle, but a good one. I love them both to pieces—but not in a leperous kind of way.

T – Time you wake up –the very last possible minute that allows me to get where I need to be. I like sleep. I lay out my clothes the night before in the precise order I will be putting them on my body. Fuck mornings.

U – Underwear—usually wear it, most of mine is cotton

V – Vegetable you dislike—I like most of them…oh yeah! Greens—mustard, collard, turnip—there have been a very few exceptions that I have found palatable.

W – What makes you run late – my love for sleep, being disorganized, getting ready too early and then checking “just one thing” online. Yeah, right.

X – X-rays you’ve had – ankle, chest, neck MRI-neck, neck, neck, CT-head (shut up again)

Y – Yummy food you make – I am an above average cook when I do it, but my best ever would likely be chocolate cake with butter cream icing. (No, I do not use a box. I’m amazed at how many people look confused when I say that.)

Z – Zoo animal—I have come to dislike seeing animals in zoos. I have a huge love for elephants and have collected them since I was a kid. Got a purple one tattooed on my ankle about a year ago. I did LOVE seeing the otters swimming, smiling, and doing laps at the aquarium in Monterey.

Competitive much?

Well, I'm glad that the cistern (singular) decided to chip in. Really. However, I didn't really know we were going to make this a She Said/She Said kinda deal. She DID give me permission to post first, and then she bitched about it. And, I called it that she was gonna complain about the "housekeeping." I would have given her "all access" if I had been given that option. Hell, I'l give her permission to edit my posts with her English Major red pen if she wishes. As soon as I figure out how to do it. I thought we were tight. I thought she could have come to me first. Oh well, I suppose airing laundry publicly is gonna be part of this whole endeavor--and now that I know, I will be ready. REAL POST It's interesting that the cistern said what she did. We come by our competitive natures honestly. Poppa instilled that in us early and often. We played board games as children. Parcheesi, checkers, backgammon, and we splurged on an Atari game system when we were able. Poppa denies it to this very day, but he bought new games, practiced them until he was proficient, and ONLY THEN did he allow the kids the opportunity to play against him. He acts as if this is blasphemy when we bring it up now, but none of us EVER saw a game wrapped in cellophane. Enough said. There was one particular evening when I was on a roll. Poppa and I were playing a game called Chase on Atari, and I was on a winning streak. It was a school night, and I was exhausted. I was BEGGING to go to bed. He was determined to keep playing until won. It didn't happen, and my step-mother finally told him to let me go to bed or she was calling Child Services (well, not that last part). I was in bed in that barely cognizant few moments just before slumber. He came into my room and kissed me on the cheek. The he whispered, "I let you win." I was jolted upright out of my near sleep, and yelled, "You did not!" He never LET us win anything in our lives, and I knew he had not started that night. One of his favorite games was "Harder or Faster." He would pin us on the ground and start softly patting our cheeks is a slow rhythm. That part was not so bad...then came the choice...we had to tell him to do it harder or speed up the pace. If we failed to choose, the result was HARDER & FASTER. This sounds far more abusive than it was, we actually asked to play on occasion...or maybe I just asked him to play the game with my little brother. PS-I realized as I typed that the graphics in video games today are better quality than what we could see on television when I was a kid. Now I am old. So, did you guys play board games as kids? Are you laid back when it comes to winning or losing, or are you out for blood?

My Women

I’m not sure how I thought the introductory post to this blog might look, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. In fact, my co-author and sister just might not be thrilled that I started without her. However, she will get over it…because that is what we do. She has given me permission since I wrote that first part, but I think will now have to get over the minimal housekeeping I did before sharing.
As I looked at twitter and FB this morning, I saw multiple posts about International Day of Women. I started thinking about the women in my family.
I come from a matriarchy, in fact, my maternal Grandmother was often referred to as The Matriarch. She was a widowed mother to five daughters and one son. I remember hosting a brunch after my sister’s wedding and realizing that in a crowd of 40+ there were only 4 adult men to whom I was blood related. Of my thirteen cousins on that side—only four are male, and except for one, the males have older sisters.
All three of my Grandmothers outlived their husbands. I am told that I met my paternal Grandfather, but I don’t remember him. My parents divorced when I was 8. I was accustomed to seeing women functioning as solo heads of household.
There are certainly advantages and disadvantages to the way I grew up. However, today is about the gifts these women gave me.
Grandmother (not a single one of us ever mouthed a diminutive that stuck)--My maternal grandmother. She possessed a strong, Southern grace that I cannot begin to put into words. She was proper. She was a teacher. She also taught the grandchildren to make false teeth out of watermelon rind and told me a dirty joke even though she had to write the word “fuck” on a napkin and point to it instead of saying it.
Gammy—My “step” Grandmother She treated my siblings and me as if she had been present at our birth. She was boisterous, kind, generous, independent as hell (sometimes to the chagrin of her two sons). It is hard for me to remember her without a smile on her face.
Grandmother K—my paternal grandmother She is the source of my red hair. She was devoted to her three sons. She and her sister were the way I hope Bryan and I are when we reach that age. She played the piano beautifully, and instilled a love for music that has continued to touch even the great grandchildren she never met.
Joan—married my Poppa when I was 12 Feisty, Italian, 5’ even, but not to be messed with. Taught things about love that I didn’t comprehend until after she was gone. Somehow got stuck with teaching me to drive—and didn’t shriek once. Taught me that Poppa didn’t have to “know EVERYTHING.” Helped me to be a better step-mother to the twins during my brief marriage. Bravely battled breast cancer, even having radiation the day before (or morning of?) Bryan’s wedding. Best spaghetti with meatballs you ever would taste.
Mother—Divorced in 1973 when it really “wasn’t done.” I look like her when I am having a good day. She taught me to be responsible for my actions. She taught me that you can wear Reeboks to a formal event as long as you behave as if you meant to do it. She was creative and just by observing her, I learned things about sewing and painting and cooking that I didn’t even realize until after she was gone. She also taught me that if you are going to a pot luck and run out of time to prepare a dish—store bought potato salad can be passed off as an old family recipe as long as you put it in a nice bowl and add some paprika and parsley.
Bryan—my baby sister I don’t think I ever tried to smother her after they brought her home, but I really wanted to when I was 13 and she was 10. We have gotten over that, and she is my very best friend. When people ask me who my heroes are, she is the first to come to mind. She is strong, kind,and generous. She parents the hell out of my wonderful niece and nephew. She is funny as hell and writes like nobody’s business. Please read my posts even if hers are better. Pretty please?
These are just the bare bones of the women who had a hand in who I am today. Any strength, grace, wisdom, or wit I possess is due (at least in part) to them and many others…aunts, cousins, friends and sisters who just happened not to be blood relatives.
I’m not precisely sure what the official mission behind those who chose this to be International Day of Women was, but purposefully remembering those who have affected me and will continue to do so seemed like the right thing for me.
So, how about you? Who has had an impact on your life? What does this day mean to you?