Bonnie’s Beach 🏖

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

The Choices We Choose…

…all come with a price. The cost of doing business so to speak. The consequences of our inactions are just as consequential as the action itself. Everything comes in threes, right? You’ve heard it before. Celebrity deaths seem to happen in threes even if it’s more like five. Good things come in threes. Bad things come in threes. The Holy Trinity. Three strikes you’re out. Third time’s the charm. So why three? Fuck if I know, but I have a theory.

We may think the smallest number of things we could possibly choose from is two, right? Yes or no. Stay or go. Good or bad. Point A to point B. Left or right. Night or day. The list goes on.

If you are a lover of psychology you know it is all logical. A lover of philosophy understands that not everything can be solved by logic. Assume logically you have to choose A or B. You have to make a choice. You can only choose one or the other. This has always bothered me, and in turn I didn’t do very well in my college psychology class. Philosophy I aced. Go figure. I had been told do just that a good many years ago, and because I chose neither, or refused to choose one of the given options, I was removed from the question group and put to the side. I refused to believe that I had to pick one of two options I didn’t want anything to do with, nor did I think either one was correct. But in doing so and choosing not to choose, I created option C. Option C was not even an option, but I stood my ground. Once I chose not to choose, I opened up a door that in turn created additional “non-choosers.” So at least I had some friends in my refusal group. Woohoo!! We didn’t get to participate with the two groups, but we got to enjoy hanging out and discussing why we ended up in our own little club of outcasts.

And so it seems to go in life with other things. Life is not black and white. Those who truly see that life is full of inexplicable wonders, understand this third option. The trifecta. Life or death. Choose to live, or choose to die. We all know we will never make it out of this life that we know alive, and we also know that just because someone is alive doesn’t mean they are truly living. Even with the dead, do they not still go on living in our hearts, minds, and the energies around us? I’m not just talking about ghosts or things that catch your eye in the mirror as you walk past. If you have ever been still in a place of death, you can sense it. The air is heavy, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, overwhelming sadness seeps into your skin. It’s the same with places of happiness and joy, where the living come together in order to feel good or smile or laugh. I don’t know many people who would choose to go to a comedy show to cry. Just like people who visit cemeteries don’t typically go there to laugh. Even day and night has an option three: an eclipse.

In all honesty I have no idea why this popped into my head to write about. I am obviously procrastinating from doing something else that needs to be done, but I guess it’s better than doing absolutely nothing. Maybe? There are times when I want to write but can’t. There are times I don’t want to write but have to. And there are times when I don’t plan to write but need to and do it while I’m able.

I guess to tie this in with my current life situation, I can choose to move on and live my life to the fullest, or I can choose to live in the past while not being fully present. But neither of those choices sound fulfilling to me in either way. Are we not told to learn from the past? Reflect on the past? Remember the good times? Are we not told to plan for the future? Set life goals? Look ahead? And while doing both of those things we are reminded to be in the now, be present, enjoy today as if there won’t be a tomorrow, because we truly do not know when our time has come to an end. When life makes the decision for us. Even when we are given choices, there’s that third option that comes into play. Sometimes the third option isn’t even ours to choose.

For example, why do we hear about the people who work hard their entire lives but always seam to be beaten down by life? The ones who give everything without question but never seem to get anything back? The strugglers? The givers? The weary? Aren’t we taught that if we work hard, are kind, good people, it will come back to us? Are we missing something? Look at people who seem to have it easy. It’s as if some can dance through life without a care, haven’t worked a hard day in their life, and things are given to them without being asked or even needed. What third option has come into play with these? Seriously though, if you know the secrets to this I’d really like to not have to work until I die. I sorta have a thought on this as well.

Growing up a good Christian girl, I went to private schools, read the Bible, accepted Jesus, went to church, and I asked for forgiveness of my sins. And though I don’t pray as often as others say I should, or go to church even for Easter or Christmas Eve. I swear more than the typical sailor, have a dirtier mind than most would care to admit, and seem to come off as someone who worships trees, and yet I can’t seem to forget all the things I had been brought up to believe. Yes. I believe in God (in a slightly different way). Do I believe the only way to connect with God is through church or being with others of the same belief? No. Does that mean I want to hang out with a bunch of assholes who murder kittens? Absolutely not! But that doesn’t mean I have denounced all the teachings and parables and songs and lessons. The wisdom passed from generation to generation is a guide, a gift, and a warning.

So why the hell am I talking about my spirituality? Because it is my influential third option. Because growing up I was taught that my entire life is already known. My plans have already been laid out. That somehow I still have a choice baffles the shit out of me. That even if I choose either A or B, it doesn’t fucking matter, because C was already chosen for me. I may want to spend the rest of my life with a partner rather than without, but obviously that doesn’t always work out. I don’t know, maybe my plan is to die surrounded by my cats who will eventually get hungry and realize that eyeballs are a delicacy? Maybe I will spend my life with someone only to have them die first? Maybe I will be involved in a head-on collision tomorrow, because someone wasn’t paying attention and had to answer a text and didn’t react in time when they drifted into my lane? I don’t know! The third option is a killer! Or it could be. Yikes!

Call it fate. Call it destiny. Perhaps it’s option C through option infinity? All I know for sure is that I won’t always be given a choice between one thing and another thing. Even the black and white becomes gray. The day can be dark. The night can be bright. I can choose to work until I die in order to continue living my life comfortably. I can choose to be happy or sad, but I gotta tell ya, it’s hard enough choosing to be ok. Being sad is exhausting. Being happy is exhausting. Being present can also be exhausting, but it’s a choice. Look, Yoda may have said do or do not, there is no try, but is that really all there is? I mean, if you don’t try something how do you know you’ll like it or even want to do it? What about practice makes perfect? Isn’t that just a better way of saying you’re trying to be better at what you are doing?

And again we see why I did not do well at all in psychology. I question everything. I learn something about everything I can. I start hundreds of projects and never seem to finish most if any of them. I am trying my best to live my life and pretend believing I am actually trying to live my life. I feel disillusioned. The more I learn, the more I see, the more I know I am not in control of anything. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does make it more difficult to live life as though I haven’t peeked behind its curtain. There’s no wizard there. There’s no control center where I can push a button and continue dreaming. There’s nothing there but another curtain. And once you peaked through the next curtain, you find another curtain. So you stand there and try to look up and see if maybe there are some curtain rods to count how many more curtains you have to go through, but you can only see the one you’re facing. You look down, believing the light and shadow from beneath the curtain gives a brief hope that there is something behind this one, only to realize the curtains beyond are moving to an eternal breeze, shifting light and shadow, and reinforcing an illusion you so desperately want to believe.

Options A or B or C are all inherently illusions, and life is filled with choices, as we all know. Do you choose to see the magic trick never wanting to know how it’s accomplished, or do you want to know how the magic trick works? Or, for your third option, do you choose to learn how it works but continue living as if you never saw it? That you continue to believe in the wonder and excitement even knowing it isn’t what it seems? The disillusioned are seen as being negative. That knowing how something works or why it works takes the fun and joy out of seeing it work. And all I can think is why wouldn’t you want to learn more? I don’t want to spend my life only learning about one, single thing. How disappointing that would be when there’s nothing else to know. And even though the more I learn the more I see comes into play, it doesn’t make me want to stop learning. It doesn’t make me not want to start yet another project I will most likely never complete. It doesn’t prevent me from adding more and more to my bucket list even when I know I have less and less time to do any of those things.

So I’ll continue living my life neither the good way nor the easy way, but more like whatever option three decides to throw at me. In reality, it isn’t even my choice to begin with, but I can still choose to see what it has in store. Bring it, option three! Let’s see what you got!

-Bonnie

No matter what my option three may end up being, I still stop to smell flowers and to watch butterflies flutter by. I smile at others and open and hold doors. I make my PB&J in two folded-over halves. I pause for those fleeting moments when a deep breath of the air around me and the view before me yearn for me to take them in and enjoy the present, and I am reminded that my choices are all part of how I ended up in that place, regardless that I did not opt for a flat tire to stop me in the middle of nowhere forcing me to stop for a damn second and let go of what I can’t control. Thank you Option C. I am forever grateful for your interference. Good or bad. And whatever is in the middle.

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The Dumbest F*cking Person On The Planet…

…was one of my favorites, and I had started to believe it was true even though I knew, deep within the darkest depths of my soul, it was as far from the truth as one could get.

So what would make me even remotely believe that I was stupid, ugly, fat, worthless, frumpy, you name it (those are just the g-rated ones), over beautiful, intelligent, sexy, amazing, talented, and worth someone’s love? After some self-analysis over the past few months, my eyes opened more and more as I was able to answer that question honestly: me. I’m not at all saying everything was my fault, although that had been the stance I had adopted nearly two years ago, but I am just as much to blame as the person who gave me the poisonous words that I’d ingest willingly over and over again. Rather than building a tolerance, I mentally and emotionally cracked until I was so broken, I couldn’t see past the pieces scattered on the floor, creating a circular void in the center where I once stood. For every compliment there was a polar opposite, and the bad far outweighed the good to the point where my brain refused to believe the compliments held any truth whatsoever.

But here’s the kicker: I allowed it, and I had become someone else. Someone who cowered. Someone who triple guessed every decision. Someone who lived with an anxiety that was never there before. Someone I hated. Someone who wasn’t worth a damn thing. Someone who didn’t deserve to waste the precious ozone we all depend on. Someone who thought that changing who they were in order to make someone else happy would actually work. I mean, who would think that altering one’s behavior in order to please someone else would completely backfire? When the things someone loved about you had become annoying and irritating, you assume that action or behavior should be altered so they’re no longer annoying, right? Right??? Those small acts of love, like kissing someone goodbye as they slept when you were leaving for work or calling just to say hi, became sudden outbursts of anger. So those small gestures disappeared one by one as they only garnered a negative and frightening response. The anger turned into yelling. The yelling turned into some of the harshest things you could hear from someone who was supposed to be your life partner. This was the man I was determined to spend the rest of my life with, and I was determined to a fault. We both were. My tunnel vision hid the truth: that I had changed.

Not that there’s anything wrong with change! We change and adapt and grow as we continue our journey through life. But this wasn’t growth. It was adaptation to survive. It was an alteration made to what made me me, and what someone had loved about me, and I was no longer a priority. My schedule was planned around his. Normal things I had been doing for years now seemed to be in the way of what he wanted and what was expected. My gym schedule had to be altered so I would be home immediately after work to start fixing dinner, and soon my gym time disappeared altogether as work became a priority over my health. Hair appointments had to be scheduled by 2pm to meet the same mandate. The same went with doctors appointments. Meeting my girlfriends once or twice a month to grab some food and margaritas happened less and less, until I would make excuses in order to not go at all. Seeing friends and family became a rare occurrence, as they kept me away from the person who wanted my time, and in order to avoid any backlash at home, I became a coward and found excuse after excuse to not see them much at all. Even when I made plans to go out, because he had plans to go out, I would be guilt tripped, called or texted every hour, informed he would be home at a certain time so we would be able to spend the evening together, only to find that I cut my plans short to go home, and his plans had changed to keep him out later. So there I’d be, at home alone, just me and my cats. This was all gradual. It didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning they were small sacrifices for the man I loved, but over time they began to break me down. I was isolated from the people who loved me and would hermit at home to avoid any conflict. I had become weak and fearful of any fights that might stem from his claim that I was disrespecting him. When I did make the rare plans to venture out my phone was glued to my hip so as not to miss a call or text, because if I didn’t answer or respond fast enough, there would be another tongue lashing over the phone and when I got back home.

It wasn’t just verbal abuse, it became mental abuse. I would be shunned and ignored. The silent treatment with a seething side of anger. It was always about respect, and I seemed to be the one doing all the disrespecting. Never mind the name calling and being hung up on. He believed he was justified, because according to him it was all my fault. I didn’t listen. I didn’t follow directions. I ordered the wrong thing at the drive-thru. I didn’t text a response within five minutes. I didn’t answer my phone. These things would “make him think” is how he put it. I was now a liar and couldn’t be trusted. So my phone had to be with me at all times.

As time went on I no longer found joy in anything I used to do. Hiking and going for walks were out of the question, because what if I lost my phone signal? Having my friends and family stop by the house became uncomfortable for everyone as his irritation that they were there was clearly visible, and I began to make excuses for why they couldn’t come over anymore. I became “busy” and unavailable and always had something else I had to do. He and I would make plans to do something together, but we never seemed to do anything at all. Covid definitely helped in this area, because now there was a valid excuse to not do a damn thing. He would spend his time in the garage while I cleaned the house, and then he’d leave to see his friends only to tell me he’d be back for dinner. Then he would let me know he would be late, but we’d still have dinner. Then that would turn into his just picking up something, because he wasn’t sure when he’d be home, and I would just need to fend for myself. This happened more and more, and I was trained to not expect much in the ways of plans. I isolated myself to the confines of a house I cannot wait to move out of. If the house wasn’t clean, he would make some snide comment to me that I was slacking. If I spent too much time cleaning I’d be told the house was fine, and that he didn’t care if it was clean. If he took out the trash, and I failed to put a new bag in the trash can right away, he would accuse me of playing games and being spiteful. All over a trash bag! Dishes in the sink? Obviously my spiteful way to get him to finally do them. When I’d tell him I just hadn’t gotten to them yet, he would wash half of them, pissed off that he had to do any sort of womanly chore, and then retreat to the garage to shun me for the rest of the evening. More and more, the things I said or did or the misread facial expressions became disrespectful to him, and his mood would 180° in the blink of an eye. So the shunning would again commence. Entire days and weekends where he would avoid me at home and wouldn’t speak to me. I was a prisoner in my own house, always worried, always anxious, always knowing there would be a scolding when he would decide to break his silence. What names would he call me this time? How loud was he going to yell? How hard did he plan on slamming a door? How long was he not going to talk to me again? Who was I going to wake up next to in the morning? Was it going to be Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? I was no longer allowed to contact his family and friends. He no longer accompanied me to family events. We no longer went on dates, and when he said we would, he’d turn it into a couples date with his friends, but then he would end up cancelling. So staying at home doing nothing became our date nights. We used to watch movies together on the weekends. That turned into watching ten minutes of something together until he finished eating what was on his plate to leave me there alone as he went back out to his garage. And these are just some of the small, more pleasant discomforts that became the norm. One time I was yelled at after we went through a drive-thru to get breakfast, and I had asked him if he wanted his sandwich or his hash brown first. I was yelled at and accused of being stupid and not knowing who he was at all. How could I not know he wanted his hash brown first?! I was an idiot. I was dumb. I was useless. I never made that mistake again.

Over the course of a year it became worse. The yelling was louder. The cut downs became cruel and even more hurtful. The more I tried to change who I was to avoid those moments, the more pathetic I became. I was too easy a target, and I took it, and I cried. I would have anxiety attacks at home, while grocery shopping, even picking up dinner, because what if I forgot something? What if I ordered the wrong thing? What if I messed something up or did something wrong? I would try not to cry in public as these thoughts rushed to the forefront of my mind, and the anxiety would build and build. I learned to swallow it down, put on a fake face, and get whatever I needed to get done quickly. I was a coward. I didn’t have the strength to stand up for myself or fight back. I always just let it happen. I let him speak to me as if I was a piece of trash, and he would be sure to tell me I was. I allowed it. So when I finally did begin to fight back and return his words, the intensity increased, but I was tired of just taking it. I was tired of being the bigger person and not stooping to name calling or potentially saying things that can never be taken back. That was a lesson I had learned years before, and I had become very good at keeping my mouth shut, and I absolutely hate fighting, because it doesn’t solve a fucking thing. Words spoken in anger are not words of truth, but if repeated enough they become a lie you believe. They are meant to cut and slice and stab and draw blood, and boy could they. But I was tired of being the one bleeding out every time, and I let my words fly. Saying cruel words even in defense didn’t make me feel better. They made me feel even weaker, because now I was becoming angry. If I wasn’t allowed to cry or be sad anymore I concluded that the only logically, acceptable response was to be angry and mad. That was the response I was always receiving, so why couldn’t I do the same? But I learned anger is very difficult to control. No matter how loud I yelled back or how many cruel things I could shoot back in defense, it would only build and build until I wanted to throw things. I wanted to break things. I want to put my fists through walls. I wanted to scream. I wanted to explode. But I’m not that type of person. I would think of the consequences and keep the anger inside. I became salty and unhappy with everything. My sarcasm and cynicism became relentless. This in turn made him even more angry, and it became a vicious cycle of fights and cut downs and being apart. I turned my anger onto myself in the form of not giving a shit. I would relentlessly pick at my face and body. I stopped giving a shit about what I ate. I would avoid calls from friends or family. I hated my job. I hated my house. I hated my life. Worst of all, I hated me. I believed it was all my fault. If I could just fix me everything would be better, but I didn’t love or even like myself enough to fix anything. I was angry and hurt, and it showed. I looked at photos from two years earlier, and I could no longer recognize the face I saw in the mirror everyday. I had aged. I looked tired, sad, and ugly. The poison was doing its work, and I kept drinking it. Vial after vial, I would drink it all and feel even more empty. Even my not giving a shit was a lie I’d tell myself, because I knew I cared too much. I knew what I was doing to myself. I knew! My self-destructive behavior had more control than I wanted to admit, so I would cry and be angry. I was an absolute mess. If I didn’t love myself, how on earth could I love anyone else? What sort of example was I to my daughter? How could I possibly teach her to love herself and be strong when I was so weak?

The past four months have been extremely difficult. This was supposed to be a time of joy and celebration. Instead it was ripped apart by all this anger, and my anger had become resentment. Once you hit that stage, it’s hard to go back to what was before in order to forgive and trust and love and heal. It is the final boss at the end of the game, and I had come to meet it face to face, and I was destined to lose. The extreme lows were followed by extreme highs. I was exhausted and confused and lost. Any positives were quickly washed out by negatives, to the point that was all I heard and believed anymore. I was trash. I was a stupid bitch, a dumb cow, fat and ugly, a sexual turnoff, a crack whore, frumpy, a dumbass, and I was told to shut the fuck up repeatedly and hung up on. I believed it all at this point. I would try not to cry as this poison was shoved down my throat and into my heart. I was broken. I had no fight left to give, and the poison had me believing that life would be better for everyone if I just wasn’t around anymore. Not that I’d ever actually go through with that at all, but those dark thoughts crept within the shadows of my mind, whispering sweet, sour nothings in my ear, inviting me to play along. As I mentioned in the very beginning, the darkest depths of my soul had something deep within. It was keeping something safe and hidden until I was ready to acknowledge it.

I was ready…

-Bonnie

If you have read all the way to this point, I’m sure you have grasped the situation I am writing about. Only my closest family and friends have been kept in the know of what my life has become over the past couple years, and believe me, they don’t even know the half of it. I only write about it now, because this is a type of therapy for me. It is a form of release and a way to help me reflect and heal myself moving forward. I will not share everything. The moments I do share are lite versions of the worst of it all, but they are enough, and I can only hope that my writing about my own experiences might help someone else. As natural as it is to pick a side, this is not meant to bash my now ex boyfriend. We still love each other. We had hurt each other immensely, and we knew we were toxic for one another, and we would have continued hurting each other if it wasn’t put to a dead stop. Things have been said that will never be forgotten, but now I have the ability to truly grow and find myself again. There’s a girl I knew four years ago. She was in love and happy and radiant, and I am determined to find her again. She may not shine as brightly as she once did, but I’ll pull her back into the light, and I will continue writing about my journey of self-healing and discovery as I learn to love myself again. If you want to leave a comment, all I ask is that it’s a positive one. Please do not bash someone else. This space is mine to share with you, and I need it to be a healing one. 💙

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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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A Trip To Paris…

Texas!!!!!!!

This week’s trip has me working from Hugo to Idabel, OK. With my coworker living in Paris, TX, that is where I’m hanging my hat for the next couple days. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris! 😂

With me traveling again, I’ve finally convinced myself to get the fuck out of my hotel room (and comfort zone) to explore the towns/cities where I’m staying. I’d heard about the Eiffel Tower in this town, and I had to see it, especially since I probably won’t ever see the real one in my lifetime. As much as I’d love to explore all of Europe and the surrounding countries, I’ll be just as happy to get to see all of the US. There are a lot of places on my travel bucket list, and I have to be realistic, right?! So, I decided to check this thing out, and I wasn’t disappointed! It’s super cute! The bigger perk of checking this thing out was the Red River Valley Veterans Memorial right next to it. It was beautiful! It had presence, and I could feel it. Although when I visit places like that I feel immense sadness. As hard as I try to enjoy the beauty and love of memorials, I can’t help but feel that way, and it takes all I have to not allow myself to fall any deeper. So after perusing the memorial I went back to the Eiffel Tower to cheer back up.

“The Paris, TX Eiffel Tower! Of course it has a red, cowboy hat!!! Why the hell not?!”

At this point I was debating on going back to the hotel (I was stupid tired) or go find something else. When I had searched for the tower I remembered seeing something about a historic site and a fountain. One thing I truly enjoy checking out are historic downtowns. The courthouses at the centers are usually pretty awesome! I searched for Paris’s original town center and headed that way. On my way I passed by a huge cemetery which I plan on checking out while I’m here. I heard there was a monument there that’s an angel with cowboy boots. Only in Texas, right?!

I find the historic downtown, and I gotta admit, it’s pretty cool! Lots of construction going on, old buildings being gutted, road work, etc. it looks like they’re trying to keep it in working order, and there are the usual antique shops, eateries, and randomness. The fountain was dead center to the south of the courthouse. It was pretty and peaceful, and I parked to check it out. It wasn’t anything grand, but I could definitely imagine people hanging out and eating lunch around this thing in warmer weather. I’d totally be eating a sandwich there on my lunch break!

After the fountain I figured I’d sort of drive around and check out some more of the buildings in the area. That is when I came across something I thought was pretty damn awesome!!!!! In the parking lot across from this old, crazy huge and odd looking church, was a community park. One side was a water park for warmer days, and the other side was a park of musical instruments. Now, when I say water park, I’m not talking something huge with slides or anything. It was basically a bunch of holes in the ground for water to come shooting out of at children playing in it. I gotta say that’s pretty fun and nice on a hot day! The music side had a large central set of pipes, surrounded by various xylophones, bells, and drums. All but the drums had attached mallets. Yes! I totally tried them out like I was a six year old! Even the sign for the music park was a xylophone, and of course I had to check that out too!

After feeling like a kid for a few minutes I decided to head back to the hotel. It was beginning to get dark after all, and I was exhausted. I figured I’d found plenty of new stuff to share with everyone, and I hope you enjoy it! It’s funny what you can find when you’re not looking. Seems a bit like life. I can sit in my hotel room longing for something to happen that never will, or I can get off my ass and find the beauty in the random and enjoy it! I hope you like the pictures below! Until next time!

-Bonnie

The RRV Veterans Memorial. This place was incredible!

Underneath the tower was a cool Texas inlay. I had to take a selfie…

The Culbertson Fountain which was dedicated in 1927! Construction on this thing had actually started in 1924, and it took three years to complete!

Harmony Park! Yes! I tried the instruments, and they sound pretty amazing! I’m not sure I want to know what it might sound like when twenty kids are beating on everything though…

Pretty much my view the first day of work this week, but it beats my computer monitors any day!!!!!

Of course I got one with the tower in the background!

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The Traveler…

I was recently asked by a friend if I’d ever thought about being a travel blogger. Well of course I have! Who wouldn’t want to travel the world and share new experiences with everyone who cares to read about them?! I mean, there are plenty of people who either can’t or don’t want to travel, and reading about them is their way to get out there and see what they are unwilling or unable to do. But my answer also brought out the main reasons why I would never pursue being a travel blogger. First off, I am at the point in my life where I wouldn’t even want to put in the type of effort it would take to make enough income to pay my current bills. Secondly, I am happy with the man I am with and where we are in our lives. When we do get to travel, it is for sanity and memories we get to create together.

Those who are close to me have surely noticed my BF does not like social media. He does not want pictures posted of him, and he would appreciate that I don’t really talk about him. Not to say he hasn’t been the reason behind some of my posts. But if anyone looks closely, they’ll notice there are no pictures of him that I post, and he isn’t tagged in anything either. He enjoys and likes to keep his privacy, and I respect that. He has also made me rethink a lot of my own social media content, and my participation has drastically lowered over the past year. Don’t think I don’t want to post pictures of us or declare my undying love for him for all my friends and family to see! I do! But I don’t have to prove anything to anyone that I am in a relationship with someone who lets me be my weird self. Yes. I admit I’m weird. It’s true! And we did recently take a couple of trips together, but I’m not writing to discuss those.

I’ve recently began traveling for work again. I love it and hate it. I love being able to get out of my office! I love being outside! Even when my weather app tells me it’s sunny even though I experienced snow flurries all day. I will happily be out in the heat or the cold and work my ass off. It’s a break from the norm, and it’s a way to keep my sanity. Although I love my normal routine, it’s nice to just break free from time to time and see new places. Even when the places are pretty boring!

Last week I was in Durant, OK. Two weeks before that I was in Oklahoma City, OK. Not really two places I would typically be excited to go to, and I wasn’t. It was for work anyway, and that’s what I focused on. If you haven’t worked with me out in the field, I am one of those people that love to get started early and will work until midnight if necessary. I’m sure a couple of coworkers think I’m crazy that starting the work day at 8am in the field isn’t early enough. But it’s not like I sleep well while I’m out of town anyway. Might as well get to work.

While I was out those two separate weeks, I realized I sorta lost my zeal to get out and experience where I was. It was work and hotel. Work and hotel. Oklahoma City didn’t inspire me to get out and see the sites. Yes. There are a plethora of things to do and see there, but I just couldn’t get motivated to even go out to eat. I mean, I brought my own food to stay on my diet. I’ve done a fair share of eating out and enjoying microbrews, and I just didn’t feel up to it this time around. Nor did I feel like checking out any local attractions. Not even the casinos. I was tempted at one point to stop at one on my drive home and drop a dollar in a spot to say I gambled at such and such casino. But then I thought nah. I’d have to park and walk in and actively take part in said activity. So I passed on that and continued driving.

Then I went to Durant. If you’ve never been there you’re really not missing too much. But maybe I did. The historic downtown had a fun flare to it, and I sorta wish I had gotten out to see it all. There was a pretty fun, artistic side to it, which made it a pretty cool little town. And there were some fun restaurants and bars that I could have stopped in to enjoy. But again, I brought all my own food and kept my work routine. You know the one: work, hotel, work, hotel. You get the point. There was also another big casino on my drive home. Did I stop this time? Nope! It would have entailed too much effort, and I was ready to be home.

Next week I will be back in OK. Our work is taking us through the Southeast corner of the state, and although there may not be a whole lot to see or do, I plan on adventuring this time around. I plan on walking through the small towns I stay in each trip I take up there (it’s not that far of a drive from where I live), and I also plan to write about them. Not that I am planning a side gig as a travel blogger, but just to share the new things that others may never get a chance to see. Who knows what I will find! I can still eat the food I bring and be faithful to the summer body I am trying to get (remember those are made in the winter or so I keep telling myself). Even though I kept myself in a pretty boring routine this past trip, I did stop once for some quick pictures in an alley. Odd place, I know, but as I mentioned earlier, Durant had an artsy side to it. Some of it you wouldn’t even see if you didn’t happen to drive to some off-the-beaten-path locations like we were for work. My first thought was that my daughter would love to see this! Then I thought my BF would think they were cool. Now I am sharing those with you, because I think you would like them too! So enjoy the pictures below, and I will share more from my upcoming trips.

Bonnie 💙

The random back alley in Durant. One block off the main drag, and we just randomly drove by it the first time getting from one location to the next.

The blue morpho is what convinced me to drive back by and get some pictures. It is my favorite butterfly, and I actually have four of them tattooed to represent four amazing women in my life.

Around the corner you could escape to four different places at each painted “window”.

This was a beach volleyball spot across from a Veterans of Foreign Wars building. It even had a place for horseshoes on the right. Thought it would have been an awesome spot to play and enjoy some cold ones if it wasn’t 30° that day.

Just a friendly neighbor checking us out while at work. A beautiful horse that knew I had gotten my phone out and decided to become camera shy. Go figure.

Hotel life in Oklahoma City. Yep! Gotta love those hotel rooms! 😂😂

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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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Isn’t It Funny…

…where life takes you? It’s always a journey you never expected. You’re supposed to learn from your experiences and grow and become better, right? When sometimes it just becomes this overwhelming mass of crap that hits you all at once. Someone can ask just the right question, and it stays in the back of your mind to ponder a day later. Then that breeds more questions. Then you start thinking about why you did certain things. Then you wonder what you did with your life. Seriously! What the hell have I been doing with myself? Twenty years! It took me TWENTY YEARS to get a TWO YEAR degree!!! HA!!! Pathetic!

I bring this up, because I was asked if there was a degree that I wanted, that if I could have any four year degree, what would it be. I could only come up with something stupid and boring and pointless. An art degree? So I could actually learn how to paint? For what?!

So that got me thinking. What am I doing? I love making people happy. I love seeing people smile. I enjoy listening to others offload, lighten the weight on their shoulders. I like to mediate. I like to bring peace to people’s hearts. So where do I begin? Would another piece of paper declare to others that I officially know how to make people smile?

But this is what I seem to be exceptionally good at: asking questions of myself. I never seem to be able to answer them, just open more windows. Nothing like opening doors for myself. Just windows. An opening big enough for me to peer through but not walk through.

So I’m left with another question to myself. What do I do now?

And I don’t need anyone’s thoughts on this. I just needed to get it off my chest and out of my head, because I know I’m not the only one who would read this and understand it completely. This blog was once a way to communicate to a very small group of people about the time I lived in my car. It has evolved over the past few years into a journal of sorts. It’s a way for me to get some of these thought clusters out of my damn head. Thank you for allowing me to put them into yours!

-Bonnie

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Wait!  I’m An Adult?!

It’s funny!  To me anyway. Every year we celebrate our birthdays.  We celebrate aging another year, and as we celebrate the fact that we were brought into this world to share our awesomeness, we realize how mortal we are.  It hits us harder each year that we are creeping closer and closer to our death.  Eventually our birthdays become celebrations that we actually made it a whole, entire year. Maybe without breaking a hip or having a joint replaced.  

I bring this up, because well, at the wise age of 36, I am creeping up on my “middle” age, and I finally realized I am an adult.  Yes.  I have been a mom for the past 15 1/2 years, but not even that made me feel adultish. That just made me feel like a mom.  I may have worked in the same industry on and off again since high school for an accumulated 13 or so years, but even that didn’t make me feel like an adult.  At least, not until recently.  Lemme splain.  I am no expert in what I do.  I will never ever ever ever ever ever claim to know everything.  Ever!  There is always so much to learn and expand on in whatever my field is.  I mean, how can you know it all if you don’t even know exactly what you are/do?  Anyway, off topic.  Back on track. See what I did there?  Yeah you did!

So!  I know a few things in my field.  I have experienced a few things in my field.  I have figured out a few things in my field.  This has made me slightly knowledgeable.  Scary thought!  I kid!  Knowing the odd things that I do, prompts other people to ask me questions about my thoughts and opinions on certain things that I have experience with.  That!  That has made me realize I am an adult.  It has also made me realize I am quite a bit older than some people I work with, but enough about that.  My aging is inevitable.  Being asked what I would do, that made me feel important in a way.  That I might actually know something and be able to contribute to someone or something else.  Maybe that should have made me feel more like an active member of society and the team I work with, but no.  It made me realize I have adulted.  I have evolved into a full adult.  There’s no going back now.  I can’t reverse that thinking even though I want to at times. 

This I’m-an-adult-now thinking has followed me to family events and haunts my daily activities.  I am no longer a “kid” at family functions. A realization I hate to admit, because the kids get to have the most fun!  Duh!  Adults have fun too, I know, but the kids don’t have to clean up and do dishes and blah blah blah. You know what I am saying.  Yes.  Alcohol can make those things more enjoyable, but still.  I’m trying to cut way down on the imbibing.  

Yeah.  Work is what started this whole train of thought.  Ha!  I did it again.  If you didn’t know by now, I work in the railroad industry.  Now you’ll get ALL the jokes!  Hahaha!!!!  Sucker!  Anyway, work.  Work got this rolling along.  I mean, it’s not like I never took my job seriously before I was struck with adultom, it just wasn’t seen that way.  It wasn’t made visible yet to me that my opinion actually has some merit from time to time.  I’m sure people talk badly behind my back now and again, but I am also sure some people tell others to ask me whatever question it is they have just asked.  It’s just funny to realize it one, random day out in the shop.  I had been asked numerous questions by that same person, but that one time was different somehow.    Now my thinking has forever changed.  I may not always act like an adult, but now I can’t deny that I am one.  It sort of sucks.  

With that I will let all the youngins continue their adulting.  Now I just get to whine that I don’t want to adult.  Period.   My “ing” has aged without grace. 

-Bonnie
Me in my twenties:

…and that flower looks like it could be a questionable emoji. 😂😂😂
Thirties:

How I feel about being a full-blown adult:

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Yay Boobies!  I Mean, Yay National Women’s Day!!!

Well howdy!  This is just a quick blurb of a questionnaire I was asked to fill out to celebrate National Women’s Day.  An edited version was posted for company (CTC Inc) social media!  Enjoy the unedited version!  

How long have you worked in the rail industry?
I have worked in the rail industry since 2004, although I pretty much grew up in it. Long ago, back in the day, when I was young, the regulations weren’t as strict as they are now. There were plenty of summer days of jumping on the motorized rail cart, visiting crossings, and helping with their maintenance.
Seriously, I painted mechs when I was like 8.
What drew you to a “nontraditional” work environment?
I’m already “nontraditional”, and I am not a fan of what I consider boring work. I like the strange, uniqueness of what I do, and it has allowed me to better myself outside of the office.
What challenges or obstacles did you face in the beginning? And now?
In the beginning I learned wiring. I had never used a drill or worked with electricity or really done any work with my hands.
Most of my previous jobs had been administrative or military (which was just secretive administrative work). Just starting out in this industry was a challenge in itself. The other challenge was working at the same company my dad worked at, and I knew there would be a high risk of others’ perceptions of who I was and all that favoritism crap. There was always the stigma that I had to live up to what everyone else expected of me, and believe me, they always expect more out of you when your dad is the president of the company.
Now I can wire anything. Although it is no longer what I do every day, that start helped me get to where I am now, and it was
an excellent basis for learning. I still have the dad-stigma thing though. I have just come to realize that people are always going to see what they want to see. I can work nonstop for a week straight, and some people will only notice the time I stop to grab some water. People’s perceptions are their realities, and they can’t see past them. But now that my position has changed multiple times, I face new challenges. Especially when it comes to traveling. When I travel alone, the guys I end up working with out in the field won’t join me for dinner or a beer after work. Sometimes it’s difficult getting them to even join me for lunch. That’s typically the normal thing to do when you’re out of town on business, right? Not if you’re a woman. Not if you’re by yourself. No guy will even accompany you unless you have other guys with you, because no guy wants to explain to his significant other that he was out having dinner and a drink with the chick who just flew into town. So yeah, it kind of sounds petty, and it’s understandable, but it’s still a pansy thing to do. But you know what? I have a lot of fun traveling alone, because I don’t have to worry about making sure everyone else is happy, and people don’t have to decide on where to go and all that BS. So my boyfriend worries about me traveling alone, because I’m a girl, but I just take that as his being sweet. I mean, I don’t want to be treated like a guy ALL the time. I’m still a woman, but I am definitely not some frail, tiny, mouse- like creature who needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap before stepping foot outside. Just sayin.
How has the workplace changed in its attitudes towards women for the better? For the worse?
I don’t want to sound like a feminist here, but it will probably come out that way a bit. This is an extremely male-dominated industry, but that is ok. I prefer working with guys even though plenty are just as catty as any woman I have work(ed) with.
Honestly I believe there has been some change in regards to attitudes towards women, but I think that happened between 1950 and 2000. Honestly, if you want to work with the big boys, you have to prove yourself. It’s just the way it is. A female CEO wouldn’t be there to hold your hand and pat you on the back while you cry about stress or someone dropped an F bomb in front of you. I give guys just as much grief as they give me, and I am not afraid of proving myself. Actually, come to think of it, I am probably worse than a lot of the guys I work with.
What advice would you give women entering male-dominated fields?
Grow a pair. You are going to be tested constantly. You still have to pass initiation in a way to even step foot in a man’s world. If you can’t take criticism, you’d better learn how. And yes. You will want to cry. We’re women. It totally happens at the most inconvenient times, and it if frustrating as hell which makes you cry even more. I think some guys understand this, but some don’t quite know how to respond. Just be prepared to take some grief if you break down in front of them.
What motivates you to come to work every day?
I get to be the queen of randomness. I enjoy what I do, and there is still so much to learn. Compared to this industry, I don’t know jack. You can never know it all doing what I do. Don’t think I don’t attempt to learn far too much!
How does being a woman in a male-dominated field give you an edge over your coworkers?
If you can earn their respect, male coworkers will go to bat for you and stick up for you. Maybe it’s a big brother mentality.
They know you can take care of yourself, but they will still be there to back you up when you need it. Sometimes their different ways of thinking can also help shed light on something you hadn’t noticed before in regards to a project. Not sure if that’s really an edge or just a benefit. Who were your mentors/champions in the early days of your career?
My mom was my champion while growing up. She didn’t need anyone else to take care of things. She worked on her own car, fixed what needed to be fixed, wired, soldered, worked her butt off, and managed to raise me. She was like Wonder Woman, and I wanted to grow up to be as independent as her. Sadly, I didn’t pick that up until later in life. As far as my mentor goes, Tina Vasquez was the woman who taught me how to wire and solder and read plans. She basically helped propel me to where I am now. I am thrilled to be working with her again, although I don’t actually work side by side with her in a bungalow anymore. I do wish my dad had taught me more guy things growing up. Knowing what that man knows would be amazing, but I wasn’t nearly as geeky and into electronics the way he was growing up. I’m not even really sure how he got started in it all…
What matters most to you?
Getting better at what I do. Maybe focusing on fewer things than I do now, because I feel a tad spread out. Told you.
Randomness.
What is your proudest achievement?
Just being where I am today. As much as I enjoyed being a cocktail server on Kauai, it’s not like it had a future. Yes. I am being totally serious. I worked hard to get to where I am now, and I have made a few mistakes along the way. I will continue to make mistakes, but I am determined to learn from them.
Mistakes are an amazing teacher.
What do you hope to see change in the industry moving forward? I wish women were seen more as equals in their respected fields. I don’t expect a guy to treat the accounting chick the same way he would treat the construction chick, but I would like to think if
they were both in construction they could see eye to eye. Especially when it comes to superiority. I once got “tattled on”
when I was an assistant production manager. I picked on a guy as a joke, and he went and cried to his boss about it. Yes, I probably shouldn’t have picked on him, but it was harmless and I know the field guys he worked with picked on him much worse. So what would my tiny joke matter? Obviously a lot more than I realized, and I ended up learning a very valuable lesson as a supervisor. Some guys can dish it, but they can’t take it. Also, don’t leave anything up in writing.
And with that, sometimes guys need to pull their skirts down to cover their girlie parts, and sometimes we women need to show off our cojones. It’s just the way it is. Besides, we can go from muddy, dirty construction/field workers to wearing high heels and a skirt and showing off our assets. You read that right!

So there you have it, my questionnaire all filled out.  Hope you enjoyed it!   

-Bonnie

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It’s Something…

Yes.  I realize it has been a few months since my last post.  I have to admit, my writing might become a tad boring, but I’ll let you be the judge of all that.  I am thinking I need to update the blog since it no longer involves living in my vehicle. So where should I begin?  Should I start off with the good or the bad?  The happy or the sad?   How about I jut start with something?

So, the holidays have come and gone.  We have gone through Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Year, and today, Groundhog Day.  Early Spring has been predicted if you weren’t in the know.  Keep up with the times people!  😉   Although here in Texas we have been having springlike weather for a while now, and I am really wishing it would be cold.  I mean, I love the warmth and the sun and all, but I have some really awesome boots that I would like to wear for a couple months.  Ridiculous.   Anyway, so I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season filled with love and family and happiness and joy.  I am still with the same incredible and wonderful guy that I have written about.  He has requested that I not bald on about his personal life, and I have agreed, but I will have to mention him from time to time since he is a part of my life.  I think he’s ok with that as long as I spare any details.  Let me just say this: he’s pretty fucking awesome, and I love the shit out of him!!!  😍😍😍😍😍

In other news, work he kept me busy.  I still pretty much do randomness, but that’s ok.  For now.  Maybe I don’t want to necessarily specialize in something, but then again, maybe I do. Maybe I need to. Maybe I need to broaden my horizons. Learn something new in the industry.  Not like you don’t learn something new nearly every day doing what I do, but I like to learn randomness everyday regardless.  One can never learn too much!  Life is full of so much information that it would be a shame to waste the opportunity.  

The mini me is doing extremely well.  She had her first winter guard competition a couple weekends ago, and they won first place!  So proud of her and all the girls!  They have their second one this weekend, and I am excited to see them in their costumes since they didn’t have them for the first one.   Should be pretty cool!  She also has a new boy interest in her life.  I continue to remind her that she has time, and that she still has to keep school and colorguard as her priorities.  She understands, but I also know that the closer they get the harder it is to keep your concentration.   She will learn.  Everyone does.  And let me tell you, the struggle is real!

Spring break is coming up next month, and I couldn’t be more excited!!! We are heading out to Angel Fire, NM for a few days!!!  It’s my man’s family’s annual vacation, and the mini and I get to go.  What’s even more exciting is that one of the mini’s best friends gets to come with us!!!!  That makes me super happy since she will be entertained and get to hang out with someone her own age.  That will make the whole trip so much better for her, plus I love hanging out with those two, and they are great at making me laugh.   Yay!!!!

Other than all that I am getting back into a gym routine after being lazy a couple months and being sick for one of those.  I didn’t really work out for a while there and enjoy far too much of the good the holidays offered.  But let me tell you, it was delicious and almost worth it!  Sadly I need to drop some weight again since I gained about 16 pounds.  Yeah. Yikes!!!!  So I am back at the attempting to eat healthy and work out at five a week.  Wish me luck!  

On that note, I am trying to keep my eyes open and not pass out.  So now I am going to pass out.  I hope you enjoyed the quick blurb about the happenings in my life.  I have a ton more to share, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow or something.  Have a good night and sweet dreams.  Ciao!

-Bonnie ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

   
    

 

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