Sniff Sniff

I have no idea why I wrote this last year about this time but today I find it funny.  Out of the drafts and into the light.

Sniff, sniff.  Nope! Not stinky. Must be a case of too good for you. Suck it mo-fos!

Lol 😆

As always, more to come.

It’s Only Ugly If You’re Vain

I’m overdue for a standing appointment to cover my roots.  I’ve been coloring them since October 2004.  I remember the date exactly because of what happened that caused me to go there … to be so self-conscious that I altered nature in the slightest least conspicuous way.

December 1997 was the year I turned 33.  Lulu was age six days.  We had lots of company to see the new baby and share my birthday cake.  My dear friend JD, upon hugging me hello said innocently enough “hey Frosty, you got highlights, they look good”.  His wife told him to shut up.

You see, I did not get highlights.  My hair was just gray.  Nature at work.  I wasn’t offended.  I loved my friends.  Though I did look a little longer at my hair in the mirror that night.  I resisted any intervention.  I felt I looked okay.

Fast forward to 2004.  I was placed in a new position at work.  I had been working night shift up until the point where our unit was disbanded.  I was grateful to still be employed and with Lulu school-age, I was ready to work days again anyway.

My co-worker had to tell me about this ass hat named “P”.  He told her to go ask me something and being new he didn’t know my name.  Instead he said “go ask the old lady with gray hair who sits across from G”.  My co-worker re-telling me this said she said “who Jill? She’s in her 30’s, that’s younger than me”.  To this day, I have no idea why she told me what P had said.  Can you spell f.r.e.n.e.m.y?

Anyway, I was travelling to the City of Angels that October for my CPCU conferment.  Before I left, I had my first dye job that would be the beginning of many.  Every 10 weeks, to every eight, seven, six and then five.  Truth be told, going three or four would be better for covering those pesky roots completely.  But I stopped at five.

I extended in March … out-of-town.  When I was due again 4/20/19, I was sick as a dog.  I am not scheduled to go back until end of May.  And ugh!  That brings me to our lunch convo today.

Me: My hair looks a mess because I’m over due for my roots touch up.

Mother-in-law: Oh at least it looks like the good kind of gray.

Me: Oh no, it’s wiry as hell.  So ugly!!

Pony: It’s only ugly, if you’re vain.

And with that I am like What? Wait!  I am not vain.  Vain IS the epitome of ugly.  Vain is inside ugly, not surface physical ugly of which there is none.  We are all beautiful in our own way don’t you see?

Hmm.  Points to ponder.  What will I do?  B says “do whatever makes YOU happy” No one around here is making this transition easy for me.  Okay peanut gallery, comments please …

As always, more to come.

 

Sprucing Up The Place or Happy Crying in My Beer

No I am not drinking a beer at 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning.  No hair of the dog for me.  Those days were brief and have passed.

If you knew the context of this original entry, you may cry foul and say how inappropriate Jilly … considering the subject of a post never published which is coming up on an annual anniversary of life gone too soon.  Has it really been two years already?  No surely not.  But yes, two years in June.

And that’s life y’all.  More often than not life can be inappropriate.  Or in your face.  Or unkind and unfair.  Not saying something does not make it not true.  Not saying can be a form of denial and self-preservation.  With May being Mental Health awareness month, let’s get everything out in the open.  Are you picking up what I’m laying down?

Without further ado, this is the excerpt from an obituary:

Here is a South Park quote a friend shared today that has hit home unlike anything else thus far: “Well yeah, I’m sad, but at the same time I’m really happy that something could make me feel that sad. It’s like, it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin’ really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good, so I guess what I’m feelin’ is like, a beautiful sadness.”

As you’re out and about today, make memories.  Love with abandon.  In honor of a life gone too soon.

As always, more to come.

Monday Musings ~ 4/15/19

First written 4/15/19 after working an 11 hour day.  Somehow got stuck in drafts.  Today 5/5/19, I am sprucing up the place which includes reviewing previously written works to delete, publish or otherwise save. I am sharing this one because that’s life.  Give time, time they say.  Things will always change and if you’re lucky for the better.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Calgon take me away.

I did not have the traffic, boss, or baby today.  And my dogs are never any trouble.  But I had other STRESS.  I had my dentist appointment this morning.  I refused x-rays until the next six months.  Trying to save money y’all.  I am just sick with worry over our finances.  And it showed … in my teeth.  The hygienist asked me about a mouth guard.  She could tell I was grinding my teeth.  Well I already have a mouth guard that I rarely wear.  I guess I need to break it out again.

Afterwards, I came home to work.  And my better half was here.  I could hear him on and off the phone … all day.  Wheeling and dealing.  Trying to drum up business.  I know he hates it.  He’d rather be slinging mud aka plastering.

Then late afternoon, bingo.  A repair job for later this week or next.  Ebb and flow.  Just like the three years of our life we try to forget.  After his brother died and we were all broken.  He went out on his own.  Then he went back to the family business. Now he is out on his own again.

As always, more to come.

 

For 5/5/19 ~ “Everybody Hurts”

Today Jim gives us the prompt – Hurt/Pain/Agony/Suffer.  Immediately I think of R.E.M’s “Everybody Hurts”.  Without further ado, here you go:

Writer(s): PETER LAWRENCE BUCK, MICHAEL E. MILLS, JOHN MICHAEL STIPE, WILLIAM THOMAS BERRY

As always, more to come.