Category Archives: gossip

Overcome…

This week has been incredibly overwhelming for me.  Personally, professionally and emotionally.  I am drained.  I am tired.  I am exasperated.  And more than anything…

I am overcome.

After many years, a friendship was ended…mutually, after nearly 40 years.  We didn’t decide to just release one another but rather, it ended in an incredibly ugly fashion with sarcasm, bitter words, name calling and scathing accusations.  She wasn’t listening to me.  I wasn’t listening to her.  We both struggled to be heard, but the louder the words became,  the more they fell on deaf ears.  This person was gone to me for a very long time.  From the time I was 14 years old actually.  We reunited back in 2002.  For six years, it was wonderful.  We shared each others homes, hearts and secrets.  She entered my life during a very volatile time with my husband (yes, once upon a time, things were not all hearts and flowers between the Princess and the Hotband.)  She got me through a lot of rough years.  I will always be appreciative of that.  Then, Facebook comes along.  Old friends enter the picture.  Worse yet, new friends enter the picture and slowly the chasm grows.  We start realizing how different we are.  Subtle changes at first give way to more blatant, outward changes.  Statements that would once be taken in jest were no longer amusing.  The differences become more noticeable, not only to us, but to our mutual friends.  Bickering begins.  Nit-picky small things at first slowly give way to all out lunges at each others throats.  Diplomacy is suddenly lost on both of us.  She is asking me to change who I am.  I am telling her accept me as I am.  She calls me a liar.  I call her varying degrees of the word “bitch”.  She tells me she is blocking me from her feed.  I eventually block her from my “friends list”.  Sarcastic nasty notes are exchanged and suddenly, it is 1980.  We are two teenage girls, snarling at one another in the school yard, throwing down our books as the crowd forms a circle around us.  Sides are chosen.  Friendships are irretrievably broken. Alliances are formed.

Only this time, there is no teacher to step in, to intervene.  We are left to our own devices, both of us too afraid to have this discussion by phone…so we are relegated to nasty Facebook messages saying things that we more than likely wouldn’t dare to say to each other if we were face to face.

It was exhausting.  And now, it is over.

I have opted not to discuss this with our mutual friends.  She, however, has been talking about this non-stop.  The chitter chatter of the spies still running back and forth between us, like little electrical synapses firing off, one after the other.  I just want to be free of it already.  I wanted this year to start differently rather than more of the same.

And while there is a part of me that is always going to mourn the loss of that friendship, I am trying to remember that there was a reason she walked into my life when she did after a 25 year separation.  I am grateful for the little girl I grew up with as much as I am grateful for the woman who held me in her arms as I sobbed over the pain my husband had caused me.  I would have loved to have shared another 40 years with her…but we grew up differently, our lives shaped by different events.  I am not who she remembers, nor who she wants me to be.  She is not who I remembered, nor who I wanted her to be.

But, for a short moment in time, we were everything to each other.  She held my hand in kindergarten sometimes.  She was always the braver and bolder one.  She had a silly laugh that carried over into her adult years, a giggle that would make you look into the eyes of this 40 year old woman and see the 6 year old within.  We couldn’t stop talking to one another and were placed on opposite sides of a classroom more times than I can count.  We crushed on the same boys.  She always won their hearts and I suppose I always envied that about her.  It always came so naturally for her.  I had to work so much harder to impress people.  Thus begun my extremely extroverted personality.  The outrageous things I would say and do.  She would always shake her curly head and laugh at me.  And I would smile, knowing my best friend approved of who I was, accepted me and loved me…even when I wasn’t in performance mode.  To everyone else, I was that crazy girl…but to her, I was just “CP”.  Or, as she put it, even in our 40’s, she would refer to me as…”my CP”.

And I was hers.  Unconditionally…and probably would have been for life had we not allowed the little things to pyramid to grandiose proportions and spin violently out of control.

In my heart, in my mind and in my soul…I will always remember the moment when we were 14 years old and hugging goodbye as my parents moved me out of the city and into the suburbs.  I never saw her again after that.  I will always remember her big brown eyes, her long curly hair and her lips, quivering from trying to hold back the tears of seeing a best friend disappear from her life.  That vision will help me handle what has happened between us, remove the ugliness that transpired on both our behalves and allow me to move forward into the new year without regrets or pain.

She will always be my very first best friend.  No amount of ugly will ever change that.

I’m willing to keep her there, in my heart, exactly that way.

Why women suck…

I have a lot of acquaintances. I have a lot of good acquaintances. I have some friends. Of those friends, most of them are male. There is a reason for that. The reason?

Most women suck.

I learned at a very early age that women tend to be spiteful, catty and malicious. Even when they are well intentioned, they can’t help speaking from a place of jealousy most of the time. I hesitate to use the word “envy”, because I tend to put a positive spin on that word. There are definitely things I envy about some of my friends. I envy my kid sisters gorgeous, thick brown hair and her insane ability to cook. I envy another friends gorgeous wardrobe. Still, another friend manages to make her life look so effortless and breezy easy. I don’t covet these things, but I sure as shit wish I knew how they do what they do and manage to do it with ease.

What I don’t do is begrudge my female friends their beauty, their strength or the wonderful things that happen in their lives.

It seems to me that when really great things happen in our female friends lives, we don’t entirely focus on their happiness, but rather, use it as a gauge to figure out exactly where we are on the scale of female perfection. I have been steadily working on that with myself. I try to realize that when enormously wonderful things happen to my girlfriends, it doesn’t mean I am less than. It only means I have yet another goal to strive towards.

Recently, a friend clued me in that someone I considered a friend, who I have known via the blog realm for nearly 5 years has been talking shit behind my back. Now, I am no stranger to criticism and back-stabbing. I’ve been hearing women talk shit about me since the day I was old enough to understand it. I’m okay with it. My mother always told me, feel bad for the girls who talk about you. It means they have nothing in their own lives worth talking about. One thing I can say about Esther, she sure knew how to make an impact on my tender pre-pubescent psyche.

Back to my point.

This “friend” tore me up in a letter? Email? Blog post? I’m not sure the medium. I didn’t ask. I frankly don’t care enough to ask. What I do know is I was chastised for the following:

1) I brag about my husband too much. I will reply to this with an “absofuckinglutely”. I do. My husband is awesome. He’s better than your husband. He’s better than you. He’s even better than me. I believe that the Christians have not yet realized that my husband IS the second coming of the Messiah that they have long been waiting for. Until they realize that, I will keep him as the best kept secret Judaism has ever seen since the burning bush. He loves me unconditionally, flaws and all. He loves my children as though they were bred from his loins. He has three jobs all to support my dream of heading back to school to do the work I long to do. He is a good friend to everyone who meets him. He is KIND. Like, “walk an old lady across the street while he pushes her stalled vehicle across three lanes of traffic” sort of kind. He is a devoted grandfather who cannot get enough of his grandkids. So, do I brag about him? Yes, because he is worthy of this praise and should have it heaped upon him every single day. And, yes, you should have to know that he is the reason I am happy. If you were really my friend, you would love that about him and be thrilled for me. Just because your husband hasn’t touched you since the new millennium began, don’t hate on me for it. Buy yourself a vibrator, dust out the old vag canal and handle your business.

2) I brag about my “things”. No. I don’t brag about my things. I tell people about my things because I want them to have similar things. Similarly, I expect to hear about YOUR things, because if you are happy with something…I would hope you would want me to have that same feeling. Do I get excited about an upcoming vacation? Certainly. Am I not allowed to voice that? Do I talk about my shoe obsession? Yes. And to someone who is not a shoe whore, I can see where that would be annoying. However, I don’t begrudge you your new breadmaker? Salad shooter? Curtains? Shop Vac? Whatever the fuck it is that brings you pleasure, I applaud it. I don’t get it. I don’t understand it. But, I do understand that whatever it is, it is making your life just a bucket of awesome, therefore, it is doing the same for me too.

3) I brag about my grandchildren. Wow. This one cracked my ass up. Is there a grandmother on the face of this earth who doesn’t do that? I’m sorry you didn’t produce children of your own who in turn will provide you with the joy of grandkids, but that is hardly my fault. My grandkids are amazing little creatures who change and grow every day. Every day they bring something new and fascinating into my life. I love this brand new aspect of my life. Do I tell you not to brag about your dogs? Cats? You say these are your “furry children”. Well then, act like it. Enjoy them. Have fun with them. Let them make you laugh…and in turn, share the funny with me! I’d love to hear it. No, really. I would. I’m not you.

There were other things, like for example, my coffee maker. Yes. My coffee maker. Sure, that goes under the category of “things”, but this one had to be separate because in this letter/email/blog post about me, it was a separate issue for this person as well. Apparently, the fact that my husband bought us an industrial sized Keurig was of grave concern to this person. So much so, that she went on to discuss why HER coffee maker was far more awesome.

I also brag about: My charity work. My writing gigs. (Really? I usually keep those kind of private). My grades. (Totally fuck you on this one. I work for those A’s, bitch. I work hard.) I can go on and on. It’s truly fucking laughable at this point.

Has it seriously come to this?

So, this is why women suck. We all have jealousies and insecurities. But, the measure of a good woman is the one who can put that on the back burner to allow for genuine happiness for a friends good fortune. And honestly, am I a braggart? I would suggest a thorough read of my blog would answer that for you. I have been through a LOAD of shit in my lifetime. Was I bragging about the losses I have suffered? The man who beat me relentlessly for 2 years? My past drug addiction? My struggle with bipolar disorder? No. Unless of course you are under the belief that I am one of those people who feels they have to “one up” everyone else’s sob stories. I don’t believe that’s me either. I’m just a real person. I talk. A lot. I talk about the good things in my life openly just the same way I talk about the not so good things. If it seems like there has been more of the former as of late, well, there has been. And honestly, I feel I have earned the good things that have come my way over the past few years.

I am a good person at heart. I love my family to the ends of the earth and would lay down and die for any of them. I am fervently devoted to my friends. (Is that bragging or is that simply a statement of fact? I think the lines are starting to blur for me). I think I am smart, funny, confident, interesting and damn beautiful to look at. Oh, and I have a great rack. Again, not bragging…it just is what it is. The other day, I happened upon this quote:

There’s no such thing as bragging. You’re either lying or telling the truth.

I know I’m telling the truth. And sometimes, sister, the truth hurts…especially when it reflects your own personal truth right back at you and you don’t like what you see. For that reason alone, I forgive you. I hope you are strong enough to forgive yourself and allow yourself to know happiness in your life. You deserve that. Every woman does. Even you.

No. Especially you.

Soul searching…

I have so many things to blog about right now. So many wonderful, amazing things. My life right now is truly blessed. I can write about my husband, always a source of joy and happiness. I can write about the incredible Mother’s Day I just had. There was my fabulous trip to California where I met some absolutely awesome people who will be in my heart forever. I had the time of my life. I can write about my sons recent school suspension. Sure, not a great thing, but valuable lessons were learned by all. I could write about the new career I am embarking on with my husbands blessing. I am scared, nervous, excited and in awe over this decision I have made.

A million things to write about yet only one thing comes to mind right now.

Forgiveness.

In the past couple of months, I have done some pretty nasty things. Things I am a little ashamed of. I said things that never should have been said. I entrenched myself into lives and hurt people with the quick flashes of an untamed tongue. I allowed a mob mentality to pull me in, suck me under and throw me about in an ocean of ugly.

Dear Readers, be there 6 or 60 of you…when have you ever known that to be me?

I am not a judgmental person. I never have been. I don’t see colors on skin. I embrace everyone’s sexuality and preferences. As long as you are not harming me or mine…just be you. Do your thing. Live your life. Make your good choices. Make your poor choices. Always find your way back to being you after diverting away from that. Second chances. Third chances. Tenth chances. I have always lived my life as the epitome of love, tolerance and acceptance.

I am ashamed of my actions as of late. They are a false and poor representation of who I am, who I have always been. I allowed myself to get pulled into chaos and mob mentality, something I have never experienced before. I don’t like it. There isn’t enough body wash to cleanse it away.

I am not a religious girl, despite embracing my Jewessness. I am a spiritual person. I am a strong believer in karmic retribution both good and bad. You get back what you put out into the universe. It comes back to you in some form or another. Lately, what I have been putting out has not been positive and I am not proud of that. So many beautiful and wonderful things have taken place in my life as of late. This one thing looms heavily in my heart and mind.

I took a step to rectify it today. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because I needed it for me. I needed to make it right in my mind. I need to put out the right vibes in my world. And, most of all, I need to say I am sorry when I am wrong. I allowed my compassion to be run off and replaced with malignancy and maliciousness. That’s not me. It’s never been me. I hate that girl.

I was wrong. And, I am sorry.

While forgiveness may not be in the stars, I have done what I can to be able to exhale and say, “It will be okay. The people you hurt may not forgive you, CP, but God will.” And right now, that has to be enough for me.

I am flawed. I will falter. I am a work in progress.

The colors are still evolving. The paint on my walls are still wet. But, with every passing day, every passing hour…something beautiful will arise from what I am creating. A better day. A better life.

A better me.

It has to make you laugh at some point…

There are some hugely influential bloggers online. Example? Perez Hilton. Heh. Not an example? This. (Edited to add:) Or this.

It’s awesome to be a legend in ones mind. Truly. I sure as fuck am. With all my flaws and inconsistencies, I still try to grow and evolve as a person constantly. Sometimes, I do it to perfection. Other times, not so much.

What I don’t do is lie to my readers. Never.

Don’t care if there are six of you or sixty of you. Never mattered to me. Never will. (Well, now, in retrospect, that’s not true. I do admit to being a blog whore once upon a time. I gave it up for lent.) Whoever reads this is just as important to me as the next person. And while once upon a time I considered a large readership to be a status symbol, I have definitely grown from that.

What interested me today was that someone asked an “influential blogger” to utilize her blog space to support a charity organization (which I will get to shortly). The person who was supporting the charity was someone who said influential blogger dislikes. However, what in the price of eggs in China does that have to do with you supporting a charity? You have the means, the tools and the time. You blog for several different reader sites. You have FRIENDS who would actually BENEFIT by this program! Military friends! You have the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of so many people…but because you don’t like someone, you reply with “are you fucking kidding me?”

Really?

This is the same “influential blogger” who loves to tell everyone how compassionate and loving she is.

Reality check?

If you have to TELL people you are compassionate and loving? Um, you’re not.

It would be like me having to tell you I’m a bitch. If you can’t surmise that about me in the first 30 seconds of meeting me you are either A)Blind as a fucking wombat or B) Dumb as a box of rocks. There is the third option, of course, that I am simply not doing my job as a bitch. That, however, is highly unlikely.

Now, I don’t mind so much that you turned this blogger down. It’s your blog. You don’t want to expend the energy posting about their charity event…cool. That’s fine. Would have been the nice/right/humane thing to do and given you the chance to show that you are a bigger person, but hell, why do that?

No. What bothered me was someone saying (and I’m paraphrasing here) “She blocked me off of facebook and twitter so now I can say whatever I want without consequences”.

Excuse me?

The blogger that said this to me? Love her. Known her for a long time. Great girl. But really? Consequences? For not liking someone?

What kind of circa 1985 time warp did I fall into here? Are we back in high school? Is there a cool kids table that I don’t know about? Why on earth would there be consequences?

Why? Because there is.

Because said “influential blogger” has a whole lot of sheep “baa-baa’ing” at her heels. Sides have been chosen. It boils down to you either like “US”…or you like “THEM”.

In the past few weeks during “the DRAMA” (didn’t I say I was never going to speak of this again? Heh. C’est la vie. My blog. My rules to break), I have discovered who the sheep really are. There were a lot of mutual friends between US and THEM. It was like a divorce. They got divvied up. Some went to their camp. Some to ours. There have been some who have been “walking the line”, so to speak. In other words, they are trying their damndest to stay neutral and remain friends with all parties.

I respect the FUCK out of those people because, man. I know it surely hasn’t been easy to do.

But, back to consequences.

I, for one, believe for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I am also a believer in karma. A VERY strong believer in karma. Everyone gets their comeuppance eventually. I don’t WISH this on people. It’s just the way the world works.

What a phenomenal thing it would have been for said “influential blogger” to have said, you know what? I think I WILL send out a post about this charity. After all, I have whored out my blog before for lesser things (and honestly, who among us has not?) and this would be a great opportunity for me to show the world that I am so much smaller than the big picture!

No. Instead, we have people worrying about what other people are going to think.

I was at a point earlier this week where I was going to apo-apo-apo…*gags* apologize *cough* for some of the things that I said to and about said blogger. Some of the things I said were cruel and inadvertently directed at a victim of the scenario and not the perpetrators. I felt bad about that. I did. It’s been eating at me.

But then, as Cyndi Lauper so eloquently put it…I see your true colors shining through.

And suddenly, I find myself apathetic as opposed to apologetic.

After all, if nothing changes…nothing changes.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is my Razorblade Tomato for the day.

That said, let me leave you with this:

Think for yourselves. Be yourselves. Don’t worry about what other people think of you. Life is too short for you not to live it to the fullest. Keep yourself raised up. Do for others, not out of pity or obligation, but because it really makes you fill up the happy tank. Stay charitable and humble. Remember when you are in crisis, someone out there has far greater struggles than you. Pain is temporary, ugly is forever.

Be beautiful.

Please. If it meets your life criteria and you can find it in your heart to click, head over to this site and simply vote for this idea to win the Pepsi Refresh Grant. Nothing to buy, no money to give. Just a simple click on a simple idea that will help thousands of veterans.

Thank you.

About the Drama…last words on the subject.

I am going to outline my feelings on the matter, once and for all, because I am not going to continue addressing the emails I keep getting on the subject. I feel like I should have an “auto-response” set up by now. So, here it is for everyone to read.

1. Let me clarify: I do not hate Adam or Britt. Not by a long shot. If you are writing me to get me to jump on that bandwagon, I am not on it. I care about both of them a great deal. While I am disappointed by some of the things that have gone on in the past few months, I cannot or will not bring myself to hate them.

2. I don’t care about the indiscretions. As I have said before, I have had my own share of affairs on previous husbands in the past. They were wrong, just as theirs was wrong. Having an affair behind your spouses back is an act of cowardice. I fall into that category as well. I am absolutely, positively NOT judging anybody for that at all.

3. The “birthday party” incident hurt a number of people. Some opted to get over it immediately. Some dwelled on it a bit longer and held it in to the point where they felt a little bitter about it. I fall into the latter of the two. I spoke to Adam about it and felt it best that we just let it go, water under the bridge I believe is the term we both used. And, while I did continue to snark about it even after that conversation, that was wrong of me. I am, from this point forward, letting it go. For those of you who haven’t yet, let me suggest that you do. If you feel slighted, I understand. It was hurtful, but, there comes a time when you just have to move on from that emotion. I am choosing now. There will be no further discussion on the matter from me.

4. If you want to know about Hilly, please write Hilly directly. I am not her spokesperson or her manager. She is a big girl capable of answering any questions you may have for her. I can’t speak on her behalf. I can tell you that she is just fine and has moved forward with her life. Any specifics will have to be addressed to her.

5. The ONLY thing that I do remain angry and disappointed about is the motorcycle issue. I told Britt that I found it tacky and disturbing. She knows how I feel on the subject. If you feel the same, write to her about it, as I did. I will state, for the record, that I am still hopeful that the money she raised for that motorcycle does NOT go to a motorcycle, but to a charitable organization of some sort. I don’t agree with pandering to your readers for money unless it is a financial crisis situation or you are doing so on behalf of a fundraiser. While I believe her intentions were pure (and I am basing this on a conversation I had with her directly), I still believe that it is the wrong thing for the right reasons. I have lost a modicum of respect for her for doing this…but that doesn’t make her an evil person. Just a bit misdirected. I am still holding out for the chance that she realizes that the money that was raised belongs in the hands of those who truly need help. A motorcycle for your husband does not qualify. But, in the end, that is her choice.

6. I said some very nasty things on another blog. Upon re-reading what I wrote, I realize that there are some things that I probably should not have said. They were hurtful and mean, representative more of the hurt and disappointment I was feeling and came out malicious and vile. This is not the way I want to come across. I am not usually that ugly unless provoked. I am not happy with some of the things that I wrote even if they were accurate. Of course, there is nothing I can do about that now, but here, for the record, I wanted it to be known that I am not encouraging anyone to bash Britt or Adam. There are times when you should just learn to shut up and walk away from a situation. I am still mastering that art as I have never been one to just clam up. Please do not write me any more emails with your laundry lists of what you hate/dislike about them. Write your own blogpost about it, email them directly or talk amongst your like-minded friends about it. I am not answering any more emails on the subject.

7. Definitely do NOT email me for tea and sympathy when it comes to your own hurt and disappointment with regard to Britt or Adam and then continue to have fun little blog comments and tweets sent to them. Wow. Hypocrites to the umpteenth degree. Be big boys and girls and talk to them directly. Please.

As for me, I am washing my hands of the entire matter. I am done. Most of what happened did not involve me. The things that did are the things I spoke about. Beyond that, I suggest you speak directly to the parties involved.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand…that’s all. CP is closed for business on this subject.

Next?