Bonnie’s Beach 🏖

My Life. My Experiences. My Love. My Words.

Lovely Rafters…

Part III

So that is the tale
Of a love turned stale
A woman can only take so much abuse
A heart can beat again
Even though it’s been dead
And its murderer left quite the bruise
If he says he’s an asshole believe him
He won’t change no matter how much you cry
Don’t be a stupid witch
Become what he says when he’s pissed
Here’s to you
You delightfully salty dumb spiteful bitch!

-Bonnie

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. When creativity strikes I have to run with it before it fades. Even if I get yelled at for basically hanging out in the bathroom for over an hour with a writing bug! It’s fucking stupid to some people…

I am feeling there might be more to this story.

So you may want to keep an eye out…

May love inspire you through life.

And death…

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It’s Happening…

To start off I finally was able to get my hair done after a few weeks of watching my natural color grow out more and more. Let’s just say my natural, ashy light brown does not fit my skin tone or my personality. With the extra 2 1/2 inches came my first officially noticed gray hair. Then came a second one. Yikes! Not like I didn’t know they existed (thank you hair stylist and boyfriend), but as long as my hair remained highlighted, I could pretend they weren’t really there. A win for me!

But this is a milestone year. I will be turning forty in December. And though it’s going to be just another day, and just another year older, I don’t feel forty. I don’t feel old. I look it more and more, and I see the lines and loss of elasticity, but my personality and body don’t feel like they’ve hit that mark yet.

And yet, so it begins.

It’s happening!

What is happening you might ask? Oh, just the “back in my day” stories. It’s not like I haven’t noticed me stating how things used to be or that such and such place used to be open fields or whatever the case may be, but yesterday marked the first time I fully recognized just how blatant it had become. I could no longer ignore my comments of “way back when” were happening more often.

Let’s set the stage, shall we. My regular stylist, who is a few years older than me, was advised by her doctor to take it easy for a couple weeks due to health reasons. Salon let me know I could reschedule with her when she gets back or I could schedule with another stylist. I’m super picky about my hair (it’s my single beauty splurge), but remember those grays were showing, and I didn’t want to see them anymore. So I bit my lip, took the jump to get my long overdue hair into the shop for a tune up, and I went ahead and booked with a stylist I had never met. She was super sweet, a mother of two, and thirty this year. She did an excellent job, btw, but while you allow someone to play with your hair, there’s a lot of time sitting in a chair and coming up with conversation topics.

Mind you I am not super social. The older I get the more I avoid human contact and small talk. I am not a conversationalist unless I know you, and we have reached that level of comfort, although there are some people in the world that are very easy to talk to even when you don’t know their names and end up never running into them again. Imagine ships passing in the night. You know how the line goes. So while I am sitting in the chair with a mask (requirement to be in the salon) covering half my face and blanketed in basically a tarp, I was trying to find worthwhile subject matter we could discuss. It would be even more weird if I just sat there and didn’t say a damn thing. It would be extremely rude if I just whipped out the phone and either kept up with what I could for work or played sudoku nonstop.

The music playing over the speakers was an easy topic. It was horrible, country music neither of us had ever heard before. We couldn’t even figure out who was singing the songs. Not only that, but there was an awful cover of “Heaven Let Your Light Shine Down”, and we were both grateful for that one to end. So music. Music became a topic. Which, of course we had already discussed COVID-19 issues, I just rolled the music into how COVID will affect future concerts. We talked about concerts we had been to. She mentioned she had wished she’d gone to a George Straight concert last year when he was in town. I jump in with “I got to see him at the old Cowboys stadium in Irving for the George Straight Country Music Festival!” So here we go. Setting the stage for the backstory of days long past from my youth. Good Lord. I mention when that concert took place, ‘96 I believe. Holy crap! That was 24 years ago! Then another concert I went to back in ‘97 at the Texas Motor Speedway. It had just been built and basically held two large concerts before even having a race. The first was a country fest. No. I did not go to that one. I did however go to their Rock Fest ‘97!!! Let me tell you! Awesome concert!!!! Bush, No Doubt, Counting Crows, the Nixons, Collective Soul, and more. It was so kick ass!!!

So it may not seem like much to the average reader, but I have now noticed just how much those old stories kick in to create a connection with a younger crowd. The older party explaining how they are still relevant and how their experiences can correlate with the experiences yet to be had by the younger party. The younger party struggling to follow along since they don’t quite realize just how cool that story really is in the mind of the older party. No wonder the youth have a hard time listening to stories about the days of old. No wonder the majority of people I know don’t have a passion for studying history (yes, some of you are crazy for wanting to do that, imo). It’s right up there with telling someone they can’t do something. They’re going to do what they want to do, no matter how much you may try to explain what happened to you and how badly it turned out. It’s allowing them to touch the flame to not want to touch it again. Same with experiences. The older we get, the more we experience, and the more we want to share to keep those memories alive or relevant or teach or inspire. But that younger generation, they want to have their own experiences, and it’s hard to set time aside to hear about someone else’s when you just want to make your own.

With this new “happening“ I now want to hear those stories I didn’t quite appreciate when I was younger. The stories of how my mom had actually gone to a Beatles concert and even experienced Inna Gadda Da Vida. The stories of my dad taking out his metallic blue glitter dune buggy, the same one he would take me and the neighborhood girls out for sno-cones as a little kid on hot, Texas summer evenings. All of those things that get talked about over and over again, but they just went in one ear and right out the other, because they couldn’t be appreciated yet. Now I know.

Now I’m listening.

-Bonnie

And if I have any typos in this thing, I couldn’t care less. I’m typically picky about grammar, but I just don’t have time to fix all those written mistakes when I have so much more listening to do now. 😉

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To Dream and Fade Away…

With all of the weirdness going on the world, it’s difficult finding something good to write about. There’s the projects around the house that finally get started on and sometimes finished. Then there are new ones that may or may not reach a starting point. There’s checking on friends and family and neighbors. Check in. Check in. Check in. Do your part in making sure those you know haven’t lost their sanity. set up those family zoom calls. Talk to people you haven’t seen in years. Do it. Show humanity at its simplistic version of itself.

Talk about the past. Talk about the present. Talk about the future. Discuss changes. Cause and effect. The fun topics. How’s life. How’s work. How’s school. How’s it going without a job. How’s it going being alone. So alone. No one there to even check in with.

Share food. Share toilet paper. Share stories. Share a beer. Share a space six feet away. Share carefully. Cautiously. Anxiously. But share nonetheless.

It’s true. We’re all in this bs together. We are all sharing the uncertainties and the fear. We should all be sharing love.

But that’s as simple as it gets. Share love. Share hope. Share strength.

Dream of something better. Being better. Doing better. Don’t fade into the darkness alone. You can find a friend or family member. Find them. Bring them to the light. Bring yourself into the light. Keep them safe. Keep saving everyone. We’re all going to need one another.

And done.

Today is another day. Smile. Love.

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Tell Me Lies…

Honestly I’d rather you not, but we all do it. Don’t lie. You know you do. We all lie at some point.

I bring this up, because a lie is bothering me this evening. Not one I told, but one that was told to me. The problem with lies is that when you’ve done your fair share of lying in the past, you become quite good at it. So good in fact that you know when you’re being lied to even when it’s something small. It is easier to believe these false words than so as not to fully accept them. So this lie, that shouldn’t really matter to me at all is pestering my mind like the single mosquito in the room when you’re trying to fall asleep. It wasn’t recent, and yet it pops up from time to time as if it happened yesterday.

So with my bringing up lies and lying and liars in general, it’s funny how people are offended or angry when their lies are called out. No one likes to be called out on their bullshit. For example, the older I have gotten the more I enjoy not going out. Oh! I miss the energy of friends and the memories of social gatherings, but as I get more crotchety and lazy, it doesn’t always feel like it’s worth it. It is. It’s worth every damn bit of stress or anxiety or primping, but it’s So. Much. Easier. To just stay home. So what do we do when this happens? How many of us say that we are currently enjoying our hermitting stage and just don’t feel like dealing with the hassle of going out? I have. It’s rare. But mostly it’s an excuse, or I don’t feel well, my partner isn’t feeling well, or I have an early morning, etc, etc, etc. The lying comes with ease, because it is so so so easy. It’s easier to explain we don’t feel well rather than go into why we would rather have a stay in and watch a movie or why our current mental strength is not up to the task of being around others.

We lie. We lie to make others feel better. At least we liars believe that our lie is saving someone some grief, but is it? Let me ask you something, when you lie like this, to get out of something, does it make you feel better? Or do you feel guilty after it’s come out of your face? You know you may have just lied to your best friend, and deep down you know they know. So does it ever feel worth it to ourselves? Are we really saving anyone from grief when they 99.9% of the time know you’re making shit up? Not really. We make ourselves feel like shit for lying about something we shouldn’t have to lie about to begin with, and yet we continue the tradition.

Think of all the times you have lied to save someone’s feelings. The lies of encouragement when you don’t have the heart to be real, because it will spare a person pain. So many lies. I love your outfit when you wouldn’t be caught dead in it. Or I love your makeup even though someone has obviously spent too much time and money to look like a cheap whore. Even the silent lie to save not just their embarrassment but also our own. How many times have you let that person smile at you without saying there’s something in their teeth and then watch them smile away at others who do the same thing? Maybe not the same thing as lying, but it’s far from pointing out some honesty.

How many lies do we tell ourselves on a daily basis? How many do we believe? Do we eventually tell these personal lies so often that we believe them? Do our lies control our feelings toward ourselves? Sometimes we even lie to ourselves, repeating over and over and over again that we are happy. We look good. We feel good. Mantras to get as motivated in the morning can begin as a lie and then slowly progress towards the truth. Funny how that works. Day in. Day out. Every day. I feel good. I feel happy. Lying until it’s true. Sort of like the whole fake it til you make it. The way we dress. The way we speak. The way we act. We are all just a bunch of liars. Always trying to show others we think they want to see. Putting on our costumes and masks to hide the real us. It’s easy to pick out the ones in the crowd who don’t care anymore, who aren’t out to be something they’re not. The ones who choose their lies more carefully and use only when needed.

The one person I lie to the most is myself. Deep down I don’t like me. I don’t like being lazy. I don’t like feeling unattractive. I don’t like who I am anymore. Only the lies I tell myself get me through the day anymore. They’re the only things that boost my confidence levels enough to get things done. I lie and say I like me. I lie and say I look good in this outfit. I lie and say my hair looks good. But it’s all lies!!!!!!!!!

But do I want to hear the truth? We know how much the truth hurts. Do we all want to know the truth about everything.? Or is it better to accept the lies and believe them to be true? As easy as it is to lie, maybe it’s even easier to just accept it and move along. so that lie that continues to haunt me, I might as well accept it as a lie someone told me to keep from hurting my feelings. It was a lie made to make someone else feel better about themselves. And that’s fine. But it’s still a long way away from the honestly I was craving at the time.

So be honest. Your loved ones deserve it. Even when it hurts. Even when it makes them feel guilty. Demand the truth from them in return. Now go drink some expensive tea and relax. Repeat some mantras until you believe them. Then go out to the world and show them the real you. There no resin the hide yourself under a blanket of lies.

Enough rambling on and on. Have a good evening. Would love to hear some comments on how this post makes you feel.

-Bonnie

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It Could Always Be Worse…

I say this to myself far too often. But it’s true. It’s an all encompassing truth. At least for me anyway.

So let me tell you how my week has been going. Just realize it’s only Tuesday. That should give an awesome clue as to how this will be laid out.

Sunday was a good day. Warm. I got a couple of paintings done and started a separate art project. It was sunny and warm, around 81°F. It was a tad boring of a day, but I kept busy for the most part. Then a storm comes through. Temps drop. Crazy lightning outside. Flood warnings. Yay Texas weather! It’s kinda normal, actually. The kicker is that Monday morning it is 39 F(ing) degrees outside! 39°?!?! And it’s raining. Cold and wet. Great start to a Monday.

I head outside to my car, praying it will start. Clyde does not like cold weather, but I’ve had so much work done to it that I am hoping it will be ok. Clyde started right up. Wasn’t running weird from the cold. I was highly impressed at this point. It’s going to be a great day! Right? Not until I head home from work!

Clyde has thrown in the towel. I barely made it home. Called the shop where I had spent far too much money to get Clyde fixed up. No answer. Actually, it’s Tuesday night, and I still haven’t received a phone call back. Jerks! Anyway, I had to pull over a few times on the way home, but I made it. Thankfully I made it. Of course my heart is pounding. I’m thinking my car is finally going to blow up. It didn’t. Whew! So anyway, my dad has a spare vehicle, and I am currently borrowing that. My stepmom is amazing! She came over to pick me up, brought dinner for me, and gave me the keys to my dad’s car. So awesome!

I don’t have internet at my place yet (actually getting installed tomorrow, been out for a few months now and cellular signal is fucking terrible). So I am attempting to begin the car buying process which involves multiple searches and filters and blah blah blah. Car shopping. I loathe car shopping. Since we were having shitty weather all day yesterday, my cell service was extra crappy. I couldn’t load anything. I was frustrated. I don’t think my bf knew what to do with me at this point. I know he wishes he could help more, but he’s in need of a new vehicle as well. Aren’t we a cute couple? Both in a hole at this point. So I call my mom.

My mom was all into helping me search for a “new” vehicle. She was putting in search criteria for me, and sending me pictures (which took an eternity to download on the phone 🙄), and she was emailing me links to check out the next day. Super cute and sweet! Love my mom so much! I’m pretty sure she was more excited about car shopping than I was. She found some good ones. Of course, anyone who can’t just walk onto a lot and pay cash for a new vehicle know the joys of used car shopping. You have to test drive all of them. I found some vehicles I was interested in, but dear God! They were not exactly nearby. Frustrating. Crappy weather. Figuring out loan calculators and budget and wondering if I’ll have food for the winter. Such fun!

Today, Tuesday, I drive to work. I’m there for thirty minutes and get a phone call from a friend of mine (also a coworker). She ran out of gas maybe two miles from a gas station! Her car lied to her and said she still had 21 miles left to go before being empty. So I leave the office to go pick her up. We head to the gas station. She gets a gas can and a gallon of gas. We head back to her car. Mind you it is cold as hell and just raining. Great weather to get stuck in. Just miserable weather. Bleh. So we get back to her car. The gas can nozzle won’t fit into her gas tank! I never knew this before, but Fords have a funnel-like thing with the spare just for this! Well, guess what she didn’t have with her spare. So we head to the office. Figure there’s a funnel somewhere in the shop.

Lunchtime rolls around, the rain sort of turns into a light drizzle, and we get ready to head back to her car. Walk out to my borrower vehicle and the driver’s side front tire is looking pretty low. Really? I was just like, come on universe, are you serious right now?! We head over to the gas station, slowly of course, and I put air in the tire. Seems good. We start off towards her car, get on the freeway, and the tire pressure sensor goes off. Pretty much at this point I was over it. I make it to another gas station, pull up to the air, trying to figure out what to do. It’s still cold and rainy. At this point it decided to rain a little harder. Called a coworker to take my friend to her car so I can beeline to a shop. Found a shop nearby, called, and they said they could fix it but wouldn’t be able to get to it for over an hour. That’s fine! Coworker comes to pick up friend. I refill the tire with air and head to the shop. PSI is dropping fast. I slowly make it to another station. More air. I’ve got three blocks to go, and I really don’t want to damage the wheel of this vehicle. Slowly make it to the shop. Get it there, and it finishes deflating.

Gotta say these guys were on it. They finished what they were working on and started working on the tire. Then they tell me the hole is too big to fix and have to use the spare. Fine with me! Do what you guys need to do! Guy comes back in and asks where the special tool is to get the spare down. I have no clue. Didn’t know there was a special tool for this. What else could go wrong?! Incredibly they found it!!! They mounted the spare. Didn’t charge me a thing! Seriously! Nothing! I asked what I owed, and the guy says nothing. I tell him I owe him something. The guy says I don’t. So I thank him multiple times, extremely grateful for the small kindness that brightened my dreary day. I make it back to work only wanting to go home and curl up in a ball and cry.

I made it through the cold and rainy day. Drove home from work. Walked to the front door and I see a bag hanging off the door handle. I take it inside, happy to see my two hair balls and open the bag I brought in. My stepmom brought it over for me with a card, a pumpkin dish, and a bag of candy corn, and that made me cry. I talk to my mom who is wanting to help me out by selling her horse trailer and old truck to lend me cash to put towards a car so I don’t have to pay interest. That made me cry. So my moms made my day end so sweetly and I felt so much love from the two of them. They really know how to remind me that I am loved. So even though my week has started off pretty shitty, today ended in lots of love and feelings of gratitude. Because it could always be worse.

To mellow this post out a touch, I’m going to share something. I recently had more work added to my tattoo piece on my back which entailed four butterflies. The original butterfly I had put on my back was for my grandmother. But I wanted three more coming up over shoulder. Each of those represents my mom, my stepmom, and my ex stepmom. The moms in my life who always made sure I was ok. They are there to help me when I need guidance and strength and someone to vent to. They are with me at all times. All of my tats have individual meanings, but they all come together as a mortality piece on my back. Still need more work done to complete. It’s almost there. It’s special to me. It’s me. But I wanted to share that about the butterfly section.

I hope this hasn’t been too dreary and all of a post, but I feel like sharing my shitty week with you, only to get to the end and seeing how beautiful today turned out. I am so grateful for the little things, my friends, my coworkers, my bf, even when adulting tries to bodyslam me from time to time, those little things all add up to amazingly grand things that make me smile.

Because, after all, it could be worse.

-Bonnie

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Life As I Know It…

It’s a tad crazy to say the least. You’re up one moment and down the next. But then you zoom back up again only to fall further down, and then you’re ok. Not great. Not terrible. Just ok. And I have learned that ok is ok. It could always be worse.

But it does seem Life has its curveballs, and sometimes you just can’t hit the damn ball that’s been thrown your way. It’s football season, and why the hell am I using a baseball analogy? Whatever. Moving on. So yeah. Life. It’s the greatest adventure we will ever know. It’s our life. We make it what we want. Yes. There are plenty of external factors that can influence it for good or bad, but overall, it’s yours. It’s yours to do with as you please. Waste it. Grow it. Destroy it. Expand it. End it. All things we as humans are capable of doing with this gift we have all been given. Not that we had any say as to whether we wanted one to begin with, but I would like to think I am quite happy that I was even given this opportunity to live. To laugh. To cry. To create another life. To love.

Our parents passed this gift of life to us, sometimes by accident. They happen. Their lives will one day end, and ours will continue on for a while. It’s inevitable. We have the choice to give life to another, and the cycle continues. The first few years our lives are not our own. They are governed in some form or fashion. The attempt to mold us while we are young and susceptible to influence to become more in the eyes of our parents and others. But we grow up and realize this one major thing: it’s my life. Some people never grasp this. Some grasp it early on. Some grasp it only when they have passed it on to another. There are an infinite number of ways that people become aware of their life belonging to them. So how do we decide, out of the endless possibilities, what we want to do with it?

One thing I have learned is that life is uncertain as all fuck. I have written plenty about how my plans for my life never seem to go accordingly. It’s like I’m swimming, swimming, swimming and then WHAM! I swim into a fucking wave this hits hard! Really hard! So I get confused. Wonder what the hell just happened. How did I get pushed backwards from how far I thought I had gotten? Maybe I swim around in circles until I’m completely lost. Maybe throw in a little panic mode for good measure. Then I look at my options of how to get through the wave currently making a beeline for me to wash me up on shore. Sometimes I just have to swim over it. It might take a while, or maybe it was a small wave I could have easily dove under if I was paying the slightest attention to the details? Each wave is different. I like using the wave analogy, because even though they can stop you in your tracks, they can also make you fall backwards and tumble, tumble some more, lose your breath, force your head onto a rock, panic, tumble again, scratch your legs up pretty bad, and maybe even throw some seaweed into your face. Which seems ok until you actually experience seaweed in your face! But eventually you make it through and breath deep.

So back to this whole gift of life and the choices we make thing. We can take the highs but be prepared for the lows. We can take the lows and hope we can find that high again. Hope. An extremely important motivator. A small thing that has great influence in our lives. We can use hope for any bad scenario. It helps us look at our low points as if they are ok.

Life is full of ok moments, and life is full of good moments if we choose to see them that way. It may seem like I’m rambling on about this, but trust me. In my head it’s all perfectly laid out and makes complete sense. Or so I would like to believe. Just when I think I have it all figured out, that curveball is sent straight for my head hoping to knock some sense into it that I have absolutely nothing figured out at all. And that’s one of the beautiful parts of this gift I have been given. I’ll never figure it out, but hopefully I can prepare myself to enjoy it to the fullest. I’ve had my share of hurt and pain and heartbreak and endless wave upon wave, and I choose to look back and learn from those lessons to make my life better for the future I hope I get. Because honestly, we don’t know when this gift of life stops giving.

So, with my ramblings, I hope that you see your life as a gift too! The millions of people that have had a butterfly effect on my life and vice versa are all gifts in some way. Hopefully when I am feeling low I will think back on this post and remember the hope I have expressed here. Don’t lose hope. Don’t lose the light. Don’t forget your gift. It’s too easy to lose your way in the darkness, but don’t give up hope. Remember, we are all sharing this gift of life with each other. Maybe this time it will go as planned…

Love,

Bonnie 💙

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The Little Things…

They always make the biggest difference. All those little things. I can talk about all the bad ones, but that’s too easy at this point. It’s the small, sweet, kind things that have the biggest impact. You know, the kind words from friends who know you’re going through a rough patch. The random phone call to let you know someone is thinking about you, just because. Getting the last bite of someone’s dessert, because they know it’s your favorite. The smiles from complete strangers that can brighten your dull day. The wise words of people who have been there and done that. Someone putting your grill together for you while you’re at work and then breaks it in by grilling some steaks for dinner. Someone taking you out for spur of the moment ice cream. All those little things.

When life gets you down, or you’re just sort of blah. It’s like no matter how much shit the universe throws your way, it also seems to know when you need a slight break. When you’re trying your hardest to brighten other’s days, and you could use some brightening of the spirit yourself, it just happens. A funny joke. A funny story. Maybe something you do that makes you laugh at yourself for a second and hope no one else saw it happen. Even just witnessing others do kind things for their friends. All things that make me smile and feel that the world is better because of all of them. Even my own, little world. It needs those kind reassurances that there is happiness and joy and love, especially when it doesn’t feel like it.

There’s always some weirdness in my life, and sometimes it throws me off course. I get off schedule. I get flaky. I hide away in a book with not much to say to anyone. I avoid others. Even the ones I need to have around me. And I know better. I know I should be surrounded by friends and loved ones when I get this way, but for some reason it’s just easier to hide away. Not that I am truly hiding. I guess I am just better at being alone with my thoughts at times. Or maybe I’m better at hermit-ing. I don’t know. I just get blah and disappear.

So thank you to everyone who is patient with me during these periods of hiding. Your kind gestures help pull me out of my funk. You help me heal. And although it may seem like forever, it helps me see the light again and get back to being myself in due time. Those small, sweet bits of light make more difference than you’d ever realize.

So this will be short and sweet and a sort of thank you note. A nod to those who help me find my smile and my self again. To those who know me well enough to know I go through funks when life can drag me down. Don’t ever stop. For my sake, please keep them coming. I love you all. You make my life brighter in the darkest of times.

Keep smiling. It’ll help someone’s day, somewhere, when their life is blah.

-Oceangrrrl 💙

My sweet, little hairball of happiness and joy. She’s my little Sausage buddy. 😍

A place where I found a nice chunk of joy, and where I wish I still was.

Water. A place of peace. The little things…

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I Miss You…

We all miss something or someone or some time or some place or some experience. There’s a hole somewhere. A place that can only be filled with memories or imagination. I know a lot of times I’ll say I miss being a kid. And it’s not that I can’t run around or go climb trees or explore, it’s just that I make excuses that I’m tired, I want to sleep in, that’s private property, I don’t want to get hurt, I don’t have time, my knee is acting iffy, etc. It’s sad that I somehow deny myself those simple, childish joys. I feel the urge to get out and do more, but it’s so nice just relaxing in the hammock with my book or sitting on the back porch with Sausage, whose favorite thing to do is relax:

That’s Sausage. I really need to leash train that little beast so I can drag her around with me in the great outdoors. I’ll let you know if that is even a possibility. 😂

But back to missing things.

So what has brought about this sort of laziness? I miss the never ending curiousness and energy I once had. I think once you get to my age it’s not that you’re old, but it’s more that you’re well aware time is actually pretty short. I’ll be thirty-eight this year, and yeah, I know, to some people that’s not old, that’s very true. I’m not old per se, but I am old enough to understand I’m not young anymore. I’m old enough to understand that life is short, and I need to spend time with the ones I love before time runs out. That also means I understand I have a limited amount of time to try things I’ve never done and enjoy things I love to do. Still, I don’t do them (not all of them anyway). And I know I’ll miss them if I let them slip away.

It is a curious thing to try to understand why these choices are made. It sort of circles back to my post about those super go go go people. It’s like they totally understand time is short and are doing everything they can to fill it. Then there are those people who really just don’t gaf. They let time go by and, well, maybe it doesn’t matter if they don’t care. Maybe that’s just one of the “keys” to getting through life happily (or just getting through it). You either understand and act upon squeezing as much life in as you can, or you go through life not caring so it doesn’t bother you? Am I an in-between-er? Is that even a category? Everything is categorized these days anyway, so I may as well stick a label on it right? But still, missing things. I keep missing my point here and drifting.

Missing things! I miss the youth I used to have. I miss the memory skills I used to have. I miss friends who were toxic to my life, and even though they were toxic, they were still a part of who I have become. I miss the family members in my life who are no longer with me. I miss the freedoms of being a kid and not having to adult. I miss summer vacations with cousins, and just being able to actually go on one. I miss the newness of experiences growing up. I miss you. I miss me.

So here I go with another balance spiel. I keep getting myself stuck in the past at times. I know this doesn’t do me any good. Reminiscing about the past only makes you sad. It makes you long for things that are no longer obtainable. Memories, good or bad, can have a negative affect the more you dwell on them. Even the good memories can make you begin to wish for them again and distract you from experiencing good things right in front of your face. This seems to be a recurring issue with me. Maybe it is with everyone? Maybe some people are just better at jumping back into reality before the past begins to take over their thoughts? Here I go again creating more questions and digging deeper into something without actually fixing it. But maybe that’s what I need to do to be a better me? Maybe this sort of inner reflection is what I need to see me more clearly? To realize that I don’t need to miss who I was? Maybe I need to see past the past, and take joy in who I am becoming? Back in the times that I miss, all those experiences have helped shaped me into me. They helped shape you into you. And do I miss your younger you? Do I miss your not-as-wise-as-you-are-now you? Not at all! So why should I dwell on missing the old me? Well, the younger me, really, but you know what I mean.

Maybe this post can help us both look forward to what we will become. Maybe that’s the key to motivation and living life to the fullest? And maybe you have to take the time to miss the past, because it helps you plan and get excited about the future? Obviously I can’t answer that, but I think I’m pretty good at the introspection part of it all. So, me and balance. Gotta find the balance. Gotta enjoy the now. The past is done. It can’t be changed, and even if it hurts, it’s still there. The past can teach us so many lessons if we choose to learn from it, but it can also rip us apart and drag us down to live it over and over again and miss our now. Our own sort of Hell if you will.

Anyway, I’m rambling. Plus I’ve noticed my posts are sort of boring lately. I keep doing this look inward thing, and I can only imagine how exciting it is to continuously turn the mirror back at myself/yourself whatever. I’ll post something upbeat again soon I promise! It’s almost my mini-me’s 17th (yeah OMG!) birthday, and there are some good time’s ahead! Oh! I got to see the Alamo for the first time and cruise San Antonio’s river walk a little bit this past weekend! Yeah. I know. I live in Texas and hadn’t seen any of that yet. It’s a big state dammit!!! I’ve been pretty blessed to see some other things in my life that many will never see, so I’m just checking off some sites from my to-see list! I’m sure there will be some more San Antonio exploring and some river floating in my near future. Maybe even some peace and quiet and relaxation. I’ll let you know! Til then, ciao!

-Bonnie

Oh yeah! I’m getting more work done on a tattoo piece that I am so looking forward to getting done!!! So excited!!!!!!

Volleyball time with my mini and her bestie! Oh summer days and sunshine!!!!

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Sometimes I Feel Lost…

There are times in my life where I feel as though my ship has drifted off its course. There are times when I feel like the universe has aligned the planets just for me. When things fall into place, I feel as though I am on top of the world. It’s like a bow-of-the-Titanic sort of feeling. Well, prior to the whole iceberg thing, but you know what I’m saying. So when things aren’t going the way they “should”, it’s frustrating as all hell. Like why? Whyyyyyyyyyy??????? Why can’t things continuously go with the flow?? What did I do to fuck all of this up???? Why is the universe/God/existence/karma/whatever trying to punish me? What in the world could I have gotten so wrong?

It’s funny. Life does NOT work out according to plan. Ok. According to MY plan. But still. It’s MY life dammit! Every time I think things are going the way I planned them to, they are upended by life. Things change. Circumstances change. The universe feels I should be moving in a completely different direction from where I am currently headed. It gets frustrating. Some of you may totally understand what I am trying to convey. Some of you will say this life is not really ours, it belongs to God or god or whomever. Some will say this isn’t even real anyway. Everyone has an idea or a lesson or an experience that helps them answer this question to themselves, and it’s amazing how most everyone believes their views are the correct ones. But! That’s a discussion for a different time. When that one comes up I’ll throw in some money and politics for fun! Hahaha!!!

Anyway. Back to being derailed by the powers and energies that be. We all know life has its ups and downs. People are born. People die. There are miracles. There are disasters. It all comes back around to the balance of it all. Something any of my sadist blog readers know I am a huge believer of. You can’t have highs without lows. And you can’t appreciate those highs without being brought to your knees. It’s a vicious cycle that all you can do is learn to prepare for. And even in that there lies a balance. Spend too much time preparing for the worst, and you won’t get to enjoy the best. Worrying too much about the future takes the experience away from the now. Remaining stuck in the past keeps you from applying those past lessons to your future. And on and on and on it goes. It only stops when we’re dead, I guess.

And here I go again not really answering anything at all. I continue to have my crazy highs and lows in life, and just when I get comfortable the universe says move along there’s nothing to see here anymore. Gee thanks a billion! I really need to work on my worrying though! I’m really good about stressing myself out the instant I feel I need to fix whatever just happened. So I jump on the problem and freak the fuck out and stress myself out. Thankfully I have people in my life who know what to say to get me to be in the moment, take a deep breath, and realize I’ve got this. Stop worrying about the things I can’t control. Do what is in my power and roll along with what is thrown at me. Sometimes you have to duck and dodge. Sometimes you have to block. Sometimes you just have to take it. Sometimes you have to throw something back. But nothing sharp though! We don’t want to gouge anything! It’s always fun and games until someone loses an eye!

Well, I hope I succeeded in getting the wheels turning and the gears grinding and not answering any questions I asked myself. Eh. It happens. Keep living and loving life as best you can. Remember, you got this!

-Bonnie

Sometimes the simplest views are where all the beauty goes to show off. All about the little things… 😊

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Reassurance Is My Top Insecurity…But Is It Really?

I think we have all determined that I am a woman. At least according to science. But we won’t get into detail on that one. You’ll just have to take my word on it. 😉 I say that, because, I don’t know maybe it’s just me, but I really like reassurance. I mean, honestly, I need it. There are some people who thrive on being reassured about their performance or attitude or just in general. I like to know if I’m doing a good job or not. How am I to better myself or my processes if I don’t get feedback? How am I supposed to plan or improve if I don’t get acknowledgment???

I think it could possibly be a chick thing, but thinking about it over the last ten sentences makes me think it’s probably more universal than I give it credit. We all have some sort of insecurities, but we handle them differently. Personally I need to know. Deep down I know, but I need that assurance that it’s still there. I do this at work. I do this in relationships. I do this in my everyday life. It’s just part of being me. And it’s funny to think that I really, truly need that. I feel I am decently confident person, but there’s just that nagging in the back of mind. Like did I do a good job? Did I do a shitty job? Is there something I can improve to do a better job? What can I do for people to like me more? Does he really love me? Does she really love me?

Obviously those can eat at your psyche. I know I’d hear if I was doing a bad job. Right? So I assume I’ve done a good job. But it’s that uncertainty that starts feeding into your head like the Nothing, and besides, you know what happens when you assume. I know I am loved. So why do I need to hear it? Why is it necessary for me to get an audible affirmation to quench those doubts that shouldn’t even be there?! Why do I need to hear your thank you or good work or keep it up? My last post talks about how I like to make people happy. So is this tied together in some way??? Is my need to please only fulfilled when I hear that it has done some good? It’s funny the questions that can sink into your head when you take the time. I’m not entirely sure this is a good thing, but I do enjoy the questions. They are like doorways into yourself and others and help open up the why’s and how’s of things in life.

Maybe after all of this random thinking I only end up with more questions than when I started? I don’t really know if I am answering anything at all, but it does help me see myself a bit more. All I can do is grow and improve as I make my way through this existence. I mean, do I really need to tell myself I’ve done a good job so far, or can I keep the faith and become more than what I am currently am? I think I’m good! Until next time! 😙

-Bonnie

Seriously? That’s all I got! 😂😂😂

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