Two years ago, a group of women known as “The Pirate Chicks” help pull me out of a bad, bad funk.  Although we don’t keep in touch so well anymore, I still consider ‘em to be like sisters.  They were family when I felt I had none.
     One passed away, and I wrote this bit, and couldn’t ever bring myself to hit Publish.  It always seemed incomplete somehow.  In other ways, I felt it was too harsh.  Besides, I was falling back into the funk again and unwilling to admit it.  Eventually, I found myself unable to follow my own advice, and thought, “How can I drop that in there if I’m unwilling to do it myself?”

     A little later, I met my Wildcat.  Writing kinda took a back seat.  She’s taught me to be more patient (I said more patient, not patient *snicker*).  She showed me how to Love, when I’d always kept just enough distance so that I could save myself at the last second.
     No matter the roller coaster, I’m just glad I’m on it with her.

     Suddenly, today, I got lucid and realized how much outside crap can get in the way of being happy. I read through this, and thought, “Man, I broke my Number One Rule!  Mark, you asshat…”
     Then I laughed. 

     Seems that was the whole point… To Laugh.

     And so, today, I’m gonna ignore that fear of hitting the publish button on a blog that’s been sitting in draft for over a year…

     Enjoy.

     I’ve had some friends going through some pretty rough things, so I’ve been adding to this as I go.  I wanted it to be a small, concise thing, but that’s just not gonna happen. Every time I think I’ve got it all there, there’s a 10% more that someone else will come along with.  Those things give me pause to try and work it in.

     So … on with it. 

     Some people will tell you, “Happiness is hard to find.”  If they have a French accent, it sounds like, “A penis is hard to fine.”  Either way, it’s one of the biggest loads of horse-puckey I’ve ever heard.  Some of this might be hard to hear, but if you’re unhappy, I urge you to give it a try.

1. It is impossible to be objective when you’re being an Asshat.

     Seriously, it is.  If you’re unhappy, and you have your head up your ass, you are lacking a very important vantage point where you can step back from a given situation and look at it practically and logically.
     This can lead to you making, or being led into, some pretty stupid situations which can only serve in prolonging your state of mind. [ Note: and make you feel like you're in a world of shit. Go figure! ]

2. What you feel is not wrong.  What you do with it might be.

     It doesn’t matter if what you’re feeling is anger, hatred, fear, loathing, worry or any of those other “negative” feelings.  They are not negative, and have absolutely no bearing on your happiness.  They’re defense mechanisms, and they’re supposed to be warning you to step back and take a look at a situation from a different point of view.

     Here’s a parable:
     I was sitting in a bar in Waterloo in 1986, and someone brought around the shooters.  Yellow shooters.  This shooter happened to be an intensely sweet, oily liquer made of Bananas.  Not 99. Not 100.  Not 1000.  Ten Thousand Bananas.  That’s what that shit was called.
     It turned my stomach, and I ran to the bathroom and got sick.  Fortunately, I made it to the toilet, didn’t make a mess, or anything else.  Controlled puking.
     After I expelled the offensive liquid, I went back to the table, smiling, and drank the rest of the night.
     But now — I HATE BANANAS.  The flavor of a Banana reminds me of that incident.  It reminds me of some people I was with.  It reminds me of some people not to trust.  And, especially, it reminds me of the rotten disgust that was in my stomach at the time.
     So I have an irrational hatred of Bananas, and probably always will.
     But If I start berating someone who offered me a banana, that’d be pretty freakin’ unhealthy.

     Hate, anger, worry, stress … they’re natural.  If your “religion” tells you they’re bad, then why would God give ‘em to ya to feel?  They’re defense mechanisms, plain and simple.  Basic instinct.  And they can be used to help motivate you.

3. If you lie down with dogs, you’ll get fleas.

     Wallowing in self-pity is the worst thing you can do.  It’s also very selfish and Toxic.  Toxic people will make everyone around them sick — just like fleas.  If you’re a Toxic person, then you should at least have the decency not to spread it to other people.

      If you’re in a situation where a person’s very existence makes you unhappy, then find someone else to hang out with.  That is so simple, it’s ridiculous.

4. If you’re having a bad day, approximately 6 Billion people will not give a damn.

     That’s a hard Truth for a lot of people to swallow.  Noboby, or at least very few people, care whether or not you’re unhappy.  And nobody can make it better, no matter how much they care about you.
     You are alone.  Shut your hole.

5. Your happiness does not depend on anything else but you.

     You can choose to be unhappy and hurt, or you can choose to not give a damn and go on.  Sure, you can be happy to see your family, friends, lovers, bands, celebrities, and so on… but ultimately, you’re the one who chooses to be happy when you see them.  It’s artificial.
     Ponder that thought, where the very sight of someone makes you happy.  Why does it?  Sometimes, you’ll come up with the right answer.

6. Your belief in God cannot make you a happy person.

     Some people will use their belief in God as a springboard to think that they’re better than someone else.  Others will use their Faith to try and pretend to be happy, when in fact, they’re an Unholy mess.  A great majority pray to God to get them out of that mess instead of taking the steps to pick themselves up.
     So let’s get one thing straight: God hates whiners. 
     As it says in the Vedas, “Call on God, but row away from the Rocks.”

9. You control your own destiny.

     One of the biggest mistakes a lot of people make is blaming their circumstances on someone else.  It’s someone else’s fault that the house is a mess.  It’s someone else’s fault you can’t afford a new car.  It’s someone else’s fault that you got drunk last night — she was cute, and you just couldn’t he… nevermind.
     When it comes right down to it, most people will blame their past for the reason they’re not doing what it takes to make things right in the present.  
     Three words:  What.  Ev.  Er.

     If it’s dirty, clean it up.  Budget better.  Put down the friggin’ glass.  It’s easy.

     And if you let your past hold you back from enjoying yourself, it’s time to grow up and take responsibility for your own actions.  Getting all manic because someone said the same thing someone else said twenty years ago is about as out-of-context as you can get.
     The 80’s are over.  Enough with days of the Powder Blue Sport Jacket!
     Oh, and 90’s are over, too.  Are you really that traumatized that Kurt Cobain blew his brains out?

10. Worrying about things you can’t do anything about is futile.

     Even I fall victim to this one, and it’s one of the worst.

     People are dying in some far corner of the world.  Children are starving to death in First World countries.  The Pentagon has its agenda.  Politicians are screwing you over.  And it’s bugging the shit out of you right now that there’s no Seven or Eight in this list.
     And none of this matters one iota to your happiness.

     You have to keep in mind that stressing over things that you have no control or bearing over makes you part of the problem — your bitching and complaining will probably make someone else unhappy, so for chrissakes, just shut up. 

     And refer back to other sections as necessary.

     Everyone knows everything everyone else does small towns, although they live quite a distance apart.  One day, in my best redneck accent (I do voices quite well, and though it’s dead-on, you’ll rarely meet anyone who sounds as inbred as I do when I do it), I quipped, “By God, you could fart at one end o’ th’ county and by the time ya git to th’ other end, ever’body knows what it smelt like!”
     They died laughing, although they didn’t like that I said “fart.”

     Good thing they don’t hear some of the other words I say on a regular basis…

     One of the things I’ve always known is that there are many factions in small towns.  There are people who it’s okay to talk to, and there are people who it’s not.  That’s kind can get tricky, because quite honestly, I talk to everybody and don’t care about that kind of stuff.  Generally, people don’t bother to get upset with me about it, because I’m a ”nice guy.”
     One of the unique things, tho, is the constant use of the archaic word “queer” to describe these people you’re not supposed to talk to or “watch out” for. Although, it has nothing to do with someone’s sexual preference, and is pronounced quite differently…  
     One day, I asked, “Quare?  How ya spell ‘at?  Like ’square’ without the ’s’?”
     This resulted in the age-old, universal, one-fingered gesture in my general direction.
     To which I replied, “Well, ain’t that mighty Christian of ya?!”

     Also good for a laugh.

     A couple of weeks ago, after hearing about how everyone in town was “queer,” someone asked me, “So, Mark, how ya like it here?”
     I said, “I dunno.  They’s too many quares.”
     “What?” they asked, shocked.
     “Yeah, by God, ever’body I talk to, they tell me, he’s quare, she’s quare, and by God, they even told me you was, too!”
     The blank look was priceless.

     Give it a minute, give it a minute… Yep, they died laughing. 

     Another incident happened when an elderly gentleman came up and said, “Oh, man, it’s a beautiful day!  I’m gonna home and work in my garden!  Do you have a garden, Mark?”
     “No, sir,” I replied.  Keeping a straight face, I added, “My girl won’t let me play with hoes.”
     One person who overheard the conversation cupped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.  It took him a minute to catch on.

     Now every time I see him, he laughs, and tells me, “Stay away from them hoes!”

     Another day, I was answering questions about some software when I leaned forward and hit my funny bone on the edge of the desk.  My uncontrollable reaction was to blurt out, “Motherf…” at which point, I caught myself and stopped the profanity midstream.
     She ignored it, and continued her explanation of the software issue without skipping a beat.
     I gave her the answer and showed her an alternative method to do what she was asking.
     She responded to the answer, and added, “And, by the way, I know that must have hurt.  But next time, just go ahead and finish the word because we all knew what you were thinking, anyway.”

     Laughter is always good medicine.

     And being just slightly off-color does tend to relax even the most uptight people.

     Older people, especially, seem to enjoy it even more…

It’s Monday. In most cases, that would be enough. Not today. Actually my head started to spin around last night thanks to my wonderful, caring EX-husband. But, that’s another story all-together now isn’t it?

No, today (after last night), I decided to:

• Get up early - check
• Drink some coffee - check
• Have a nice long shower - check
• Do my do - check (thank God for Aussie Freeze) - check
• Actually put on some war paint - check

…and be somebody and have a great day…

Yah, right.

I managed to amp up on caffeine, have a shower and look like somebody today. Most days, I go to the office looking scary because who the ever comes in our office? Not a damn soul but the UPS guy and he’s used to seeing me look like something my cat just yacked up.

All is going well, I main-lining my Juan Valdez coffee, I get dressed and look pretty damn good for a Monday, drop my purse and coffee cup on the end table so I can run up to the kitchen and grab my lunch. I get back downstairs, I stick my lunch in my purse, grab my coffee and out the door I go. So far, so good, eh?

Well, not so much because as I hear that click that signifies the door is indeed shut and LOCKED, I realize my damn keys are in the house… Figures.

“Damn!” I said out loud to myself and the trees. “No biggie. I’ll just call OG and she can pop over and get me.”

It was already 8:30 and since 8:30 is merely a suggested time to get to work, I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach OG for at least another few minutes.

“Good grief. Here they fucking come.” I muttered to myself standing in the middle of the driveway.

THEY are my nosy neighbor and her moppy looking muts. I can’t stand her or them. She’s the one neighbor that everybody has. She knows everything about everybody in the neighborhood well, exepting us, as we avoid her like the plague.

I saw them coming at me, barking like there’s no tomorrow. I looked at the one taking a shit in the neighbor across the street’s yard and looked up to see NOSY in her front yard, yelling “No jump! No jump!” Whatever.
Those dogs don’t understand plain English because they still run and jump all over anybody that has the balls to walk anywhere on our road when she has them out.

I looked her dead in the eye and gave her my “you’re a skank” glare her before I made a snap decision to take off and walk to work.

Off I went, thinking I’d make it a little ways, be away from psycho neighbor and her mutts, I’d get hold of OG in a few minutes and she’d come get me. I try her again.

“Hey. Come get me. I’m a dork, I locked all the keys in the house…”

“Dude,” she said in a solemn tone, “You just take this like a man. But you’re F-U-C-K-E-D.”

I’m automatically assuming some more fresh cooked drama is coming my way.

“I rode my bike to work today.” She concludes. Excellent, no drama, but it appears I’m walking the 6 miles to work today in these friggin shoes…

They are Gloria Vanderbilt and they were expensive. These are the most comfy slides I own. However, I don’t think Gloria had me walking to work in them., cuz after the first mile and a half, my dang dogs were barkin.

I made many personal observations on my trek this morning.

1. I shouldn’t wear silky, thin pants in fall. It’s fucking cold and I might get locked out of the house.
2. I really, really don’t like my neighbor. Her dogs shit in everybody’s yard but their own (trained to do so by their proud owner I assume).
3. Random people who walk along the river in Oak Ridge are super friendly. I suppose I exchanged 10 smiles and at least that many “hello” and “Good mornings”.
4. Our ex’s are never going to go away. They are part of our pasts and we just have to learn to deal with it.
5. I can indeed do two things at once. I can walk and text at the same time.
6. People really do throw some nasty stuff on the side of the road. For example:
   • some dude chucked his Joe Boxer tighties out the window… Ewwwww…
7. There is too much roadkill for a Monday morning…  The count goes a little somethin like this:
   • One disemboweled and half masticated deer (bllluch)
   • Two squished baby skunks
   • A racoon that had just been plowed down
   • A poor bunny rabbit that being eaten by crows
8. Maybe I should go back to the gym.  All things considered, I feel all happy and refreshed after kicking every pebble for six miles.

Ahh, ya gotta love a Monday!

Peace!