This will probably be only the first of my entries explaining to you my personal views on various aspects of life. I don't know if it will teach you anything, but, in writing it, I certainly learned a lot about myself. I like me.
On Parenthood:
I've spent the past 13 years of my life being a parent...and a single parent at that. I became pregnant at the tender age of 17 and this was a turning point in my life. I was forced to forego the tail end of my childhood (not to mention a full academic scholarship to a nationally accredited college) and do the inevitable. I had to grow up. The day my son was born...and again when I gave birth to my daughter...I looked down into this tiny wrinkly face with eyes so much like mine and I cried. In many ways they were tears of joy for I had created something that only I could make. I had brought forth life where previously there had been none. Here was life all wrapped up in a recieving blanket and peering up at me, looking to me to protect it, to teach it, to make it real. But at the same time the tears held a sad twinge for this thought held great responsibility and let's face it folks...I was going to fuck it up.
Throughout the years, I came to realize that I had been correct about that...hell, it was as inevitable as my need to grow up. But I also came to realize that I wasn't the only one. No one can be expected to make the right choices every time. The "perfect parent" just doesn't exist. So, here's the philosophy on parenthood, people...
We're all going to fuck up our kids. All we, as parents, can be expected to do is our best. And then we just have to sit back and pray that we didn't fuck up so bad that they end up in the top of a clocktower picking people off with a rifle. I know it's hard to accept, but sometimes you just have to play the cards life deals you. I see your bet and raise you 2 kids. They may be brats at times and I often want to pull my hair out by the roots, but hell...they're worth every minute of it.
On Marriage:
Like all little girls I had my wedding planned before the effects of puberty had receded into memory. I wanted everything just so. My dreams of the perfect wedding, and the perfect marriage, were simple ones. I wanted to be surrounded by lots of pretty blue flowers and all of the people I love. I wanted to be married outside in the summertime. I wanted balloons to be set off at the moment of our first man and wife kiss with little tags on them saying that so-and-so had married so-and-so on this date so that when the balloons came down wherever and whenever they did perhaps someone would find them (maybe even at the other end of the continent) and know about our love and our vows. Just a bunch of icky romantic stuff that little girls dream of having on their one special day. I got all of that on a bright sunny day in June of 1999 and I'm grateful for it.
The perfect marriage wasn't so simple though it seems. In fact, my marriage lasted for precisely 9 days before I packed his stuff into the back of his mother's station wagon and filed for divorce. Fuck that lying, cheating assbite...fuck him and the maid of honor he was shtooping behind my back. Fuck them long and fuck them hard...with a huge dildo wrapped in barbed wire.
He may not have taken our vows seriously, but I'm sad to say I did. I waited to marry...refused marriage to my children's father because I didn't want to take those vows for the wrong reasons. I wanted to marry for love and I wanted it to be forever...till death do us part. And if I hadn't gotten rid of him when I did, it would have been HIS death that parted us.
Apparantly to him marriage was just a piece of paper binding him to one woman for the rest of his life. And I suppose that thought scared him, which is why, after four and a half years of faithful honesty and committment, he all of a sudden turned tail and started slipping the hot beef injection to one of my best friends. Marriage should be more than that. I mean, screw the piece of paper and the legality of it all. Marriage should be a spiritual connection...a vow between two people made openly to honor and trust in one another...a declaration of love. Forget that whole thing about it being a tax break or "well, we've been living together for so long we might as well do the deed". Marriage should be REAL.
Here's the philosophy...
If you love someone, a piece of paper isn't going to make that love stronger than it already is and if you don't love them, don't make a vow that you don't intend to live up to. There are so few REAL things left in this world of ours. Don't tarnish something that should be beautiful, lasting, and honest. Love shouldn't be so hard.
On Friendship:
This one is rather prevelent in my mind right now as I recently found out that a friend of mine went behind my back to spread lies and rumors about me. When I found out, I was so filled with righteous indignation that I spoke my mind about her very publicly. Another friend told me in a gruff manner "So just kick her ass. If she gets popped in the mouth she won't be in such a hurry to run it again."
I won't resort to this method though and it's not because I don't think I could kick her ass. On the contrary, I'm quite certain that, if so inclined, I could wipe the proverbial floor with her oompa loompa looking ass. But here's the thing. With age I have mellowed. There was a time when I would not have hesitated to corner her in a dark alley and beat her like she owed me money, but alas, that time has passed. In fact, to my recollection (which is rather fuzzy tonite, I admit, due to massive amounts of alcohol), I have only been in two fights in my life.
The first was when I was sixteen. This monstrously large girl with stringy hair and a grill like an 18-wheeler called my best friend a skeezer and told the whole school how supposedly slutty she was. This offending behavior prompted me to await her one afternoon behind the library brandishing a wooden baseball bat, the end of which had carved into it the word "BITCH"(this took me a rather long time to do and to this day I am rather proud of the accomplishment. It also tells you that, yes, the attack was quite premeditated). When she rounded the corner I waited until her back was to me and swung for left field just like Babe Ruth...and hit one helluva homerun. I mean, it made it into the cheap nosebleed seats. She had that rather descriptive and fitting word tattooed across her back for nearly a month and she publicly apologized for her transgressions. Taught that BITCH not to fuck with MY friends.
The second time was when a friend of mine came to me in tears one day, confiding in me that her boyfriend had hit her the night before in a drunken rage. I held her while she cried, noting the bruise above her eye and the cut across her swollen lip, and when she finally had cried herself to sleep I proceeded to walk to the Dairy Queen where the woman beating bastard was not-so-gainfully employed and calmly walked to the counter to place an order. When he saw me his eyes grew wide as if he suddenly knew what was about to happen, but he still, to his credit, was willing to do his job. He approached the register and, without meeting my eyes, asked what I would like to order. "Well," I replied, "What I would really like to have today is not on the menu." and I reached across the counter, grabbed him by the collar, and proceeded to shatter his nose by repeatedly pummeling it with my fist. He never hit her again. Taught ANOTHER bitch not to mess with MY friends.
But, in the end, what did it accomplish? True, it got the job done but it also got me 6 months of probation for battery and a lot of trouble from my parents. These days I'd rather fight my battles with my intelligence and biting wit. But you still better not be the bitch who messes with my friends.
This is what friendship is about. Unerring loyalty and unfailing willingness to be on your friend's side no matter what.
Here's the philosophy:
True friendship is not vindictive or dishonest. Trust, as in any relationship is paramount, or else the friendship will never last. Hold your friends close for they are the ones who will pick you up when you fall. They're also lots of fun to get fucked up with...hell, it's better than getting fucked up alone.
