People don’t always take me serious. In fact, usually they underestimate me. This used to make me absolutely fume! But now?

Bring it!

I love when people underestimate me. They don’t realize they’ve just given me a HUGE advantage and weakened themselves.

Why would I say that?

Because they’ve let their guard down. They’re not expecting anything from me. Big mistake. (a) Because I’m one of those who almost always does the opposite of what you’ll expect me to do, and (b) Hello? Are you that confident really? You probably shouldn’t be.You just gave me incentive to prove you wrong.

Anyway…it only took me almost 40 years to see how beneficial being underestimated is. But now that I know the secret? I actually am kind of disappointed when I’m taken seriously!

NEW MANTRA?

I saw this Tweet and loved it. In 20 words or less pretty much sums up what I said above.

RT @writomaniac: The one who underestimates me, will be underestimated one day, not by my words but by my deeds. #quotes #quoteswritomaniac

Lately my cat Tabby has been acting nuts. She’s always been a bit more energetic than her brother Mr. Meow, but only because she was basically a kitten when I found her. Mr. Meow’s up there in age. (Going on 12 or 14, depending on how old he was when we took him in. We’ve had him over 10 years now. Tab just turned three.)

However, Tab’s really had no desire to escape outside whenever the door’s opened. That’s usually Mr. Meow’s trick. Lately, though, she’s all about getting out of the house.

I’ve learned over the years to pay attention when my pets act weird. It’s taken me years to do it, but since they’re behavior has indicated all sorts of things from snakes in the house to my mom’s impending stroke to detecting my cancer, yeah, I’m more inclined to try and figure out why they’re acting a certain way.

As I swept the floor this morning listening to the Today show and heard about yet another big earthquake, this time in Turkey, the light dawned over my head: maybe Tab’s behavior is an indicator of something much bigger than I realize.

Because she’s fine otherwise. She’s eating, playing, still loving on us. But she talks a lot more than ever, and her cries are almost desperate. And when we open the door, she just wants OUT! She only heads to the bushes and seems content to hang there.

Now I’m thinking it might not be physical or behavioral why she’s acting like she is. She’s got me thinking about how there’s a fault over near Memphis that runs up to St. Louis. It rocked the land a couple of hundred years back. Trouble was, things weren’t as populated back then. According to the show “It Could Happen Tomorrow” it would cause tremendous damage nowadays if it hit with the same force. We’re talking buildings as far as Chicago and Atlanta being affected.

I’m wondering if she’s sensing that? And that maybe she understands instinctively that being inside could be deadly.

Man, I sure hope I’m wrong and it’s just a matter of she’s got Spring Fever like never before!

I had a hard time coming up with a title for this one. The one I picked had me thinking, “Are friends who sometimes put me down even really friends?”

Because sometimes they’re not even technically friends so much so as they are close acquaintances. Also, they don’t always do it. (Then they really wouldn’t be friends.) Sometimes they do it in very subtle, sneaky ways. And sometimes I wonder if they’re even aware they’re doing it at all. (Usually it’s pretty obvious they are.)

And what is it they’re doing exactly? Being judgmental mostly. Jealous sometimes. Copping a superiority complex others. Mostly they’re letting their insecurities show, though.

Not all my friends do it. Actually, the majority don’t. For the most part I’m surrounded by many warm, supportive and encouraging friends. Yet, for all of their positivity, I of course have to dwell on the offenses of a couple bad apples. (Which makes me mad at myself. I shouldn’t do that!)

The thing is, I don’t know how much it happens to other people. It doesn’t seem like it happens to Wayne all that much. But for some reason it feels like I inspire it in people.

Like at volleyball. I’m not that good of a player. But I’m not that bad either. I’m decent. I know what to do. The trouble is I don’t always move my body to get it done.

But some people feel the need to point out how they’re better. (When in fact they’re either only a smidge higher than my skill level or about that same.) If they can get on another team, they’ll do it. Especially if they perceive that team to have better players. Man, if I’m on an opposing team and something like that has happened? Funny how much better I play all of a sudden. (And oh what a feeling if my team pulls out the win!)

Anyway, that’s just annoying. And kind of “survival of the fittest” in action. I usually don’t let my feathers get too ruffled about that sort of thing. (Usually. If it happens at the wrong time of the month…not fun.)

However, I do get miffed when other writer pals put me down. I have this one friend who’s a new writer. (In the scheme of things. She really doesn’t know that much about publishing, publishing houses, or even really about the craft in general. Not that I’m an expert. Far from it. But I admit I’m still learning. Also, I’m a bit beyond the novice range. I know more than I realize, especially when I’m talking to her and hooking her up with links that can answer some of her questions.)

Anyway…she feels because she’s had a couple of things published online (short stories) she’s a pro…and is full of advice and criticism. She refuses to acknowledge I have a personal website with lists of all the awards and credits I’ve racked up over the years. She has it in her head I’m a newbie and she’s the veteran.

The other day she said something about being curious about my style. I told her to buy my book. (It’s not a good representation of it now, though. That was a freshman effort. My next projects show I’m maturing. Trouble is, they’re not anywhere I can tell her to go buy them.)

The other night I got really torqued when she said someone else was better than me. Someone who has NOTHING published and when I read what she was comparing against mine (that was forwarded to me), I KNEW she was jealous and doing the whole “blowing out my candle to try and make hers burn brighter” kind of thing.

In the real world, in a real situation, my writing would have annihilated the other persons. That’s not being conceited either. That’s just me knowing favorites were being played and an attempted put down had been leveled.

I got my justice when it came out that my manuscript had made it to the second round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel contest. She didn’t like learning that too much.

Also, I remembered back to when I was first starting out. I used to get jealous of people for whatever reason and try to find things to pick apart about their writing.

Except, I never felt good afterwards. Tearing people down is not for me. It sure doesn’t build me up. I’m wondering if she’s just in a phase and will eventually, as she gets more credits to her own name, realize she doesn’t have to act like that.

And then there’s friends who want to drop comments about how we don’t have this or that, or they’d do something different from how we do it. Wayne and I will never have the newest, flashiest, hippest anything. It’s not how we roll.

Plus, as I was complaining to Wayne about a recent slight, he said, “Have them come talk to us in 20 years when we’re retired and they’re still banging their heads against the walls trying to pay for all their stuff.”

That comforted me at first. Until I realized, “Hey, isn’t me judging them and thinking I’m better because of how we save money the same as what they’re trying to do to me by giving me a hard time about not spending more?”

So…in the end I just have to remember something Joel Osteen preaches: about how you just keep the faith and do what you do and in the end you’ll be vindicated. (He has some clever way of putting it. I can’t remember it. I only remember the gist of it.)

Which is basically to let go and trust that the Universe has a funny way of making things right.

And you know what? Every time I’ve relaxed and had faith that no one could tarnish my star, that they could try but in the end others will see it shining as bright as it’s supposed to and will respond accordingly, I’ve come out better than okay.

I’m trying to develop a mantra to help remind me of that when it happens. And also that it’s not my problem, it’s the other persons. And really it’s a compliment, because little old me had them feeling threatened and less than somehow. To use a Mr. T expression, “I pity the fool!”

When we lived in Arizona the Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses seemed to stop by almost every other Saturday morning without fail. While I admire their dedication to their beliefs, nothing twists my panties into a bunch faster than someone bugging me at my house on a Saturday while trying to engage me in a discussion about scripture.

During the almost 5 years we’ve lived here in Nashville, we haven’t had too many such visitors. Maybe a few is all.

But this morning here came two very semeingly nice ladies with their Jehovah Witness literature trying to engage me in a conversation about whether I believe if good people go to heaven.

Pissed me off. I was right in the middle of writing something else and I have to deal with that distraction. Then I open the door and Tabby, as she’s been prone to do lately, saw the opportunity to dart out. I had to get shoes on and chase her through the bushes. Then they presume I (a) have time to chit chat with unexpected, uninvited and unwelcome visitors and (b) I give a shit what happens to good people after they die.

And what is a good person anyway? I know people who I consider “good people” who others would run in terror from. If all it takes is believing in God (the Christian version) then I know a lot of people who would be considered “bad” (myself included) according to that definition.

Guess what? I have no idea what a good person is. I don’t know if there is a heaven or who’s getting in. All I know is every day I’m presented with choices to act either bad or good depending on the situation.

Today I chose to act polite and tell the ladies “Listen, you both seem very lovely but I’m in the middle of something and can’t talk right now.”

I’d qualify that as good, because I was tempted to say, “Listen, this is a bunch of horseshit. You’re pretty presumptuous thinking you have any right to go door to door trying to save people or preach them scripture. My God wouldn’t think that’s too good.”

But I refrained. Mostly because I knew that’d eat up more of my time and I wanted just to end it and get back to what I’d been doing.

Besides, I knew I could always vent via my blog. I feel better now!

Okay, what the hell is going on?

Yesterday I got a Facebook friend request from Leslie Cochran. The name didn’t sound familiar, and the profile picture sure as hell didn’t ring any bells. (It is really a doozie of a pic. Bearded, long haired man wearing a tank top and stuffed bra. Floating purple hearts superimposed on the pic.)

I know some people who would dress like that as a joke, but his face just didn’t look familiar. So I clicked to be taken to his page and found this in his intro box:

Leslie Alicia Cochran (born as Al Leslie Cochran on June 24, 1951) is a vagrant cross-dresser and arguably the most locally famous street person in Austin, Texas. He is an outspoken critic of police treatment of the homeless in downtown Austin

Interesting. How he heard of me and thought to send a friend request who knows. (Or got access to a computer if he is homeless! I guess the library…)

Either it’s a big joke or this guy is for real. No telling.

I thought about whether to confirm or ignore his request overnight. I decided he looks far too much like Charles Manson for me to take the chance pissing him off by ignoring him. (No joke! The resemblance is flipping uncanny!)

I accepted him as a friend today.

But also today as I was trying to catch up on both personal emails and Haunt Jaunts business, a rather innocent and harmless one about link swapping led me to Old West Ghost Investigations site and a suicide threat!

That really tripped me out. I’m still shaken up about it and my conscious won’t rest until I figure out if this is a hoax or a legitimate cry for help –one people can be in time to respond to. Shoot, all I can think is the lady sent me the email Monday. She could have done herself in by now. (If she was the one who also posted that plea on the site. There’s no name attached to it.)

I’m praying fiercly it all turns out to be a hoax. Pissed as I’ll be, at least no one’s life is in jeopardy!

Wow. What a wacko week! And its only Wednesday!!!!!!!

I was trying desperately to catch up on all of my overdue blog RSS reading today, but of course reading only sparks my muse’s fire.

The blog responsible for this post is The Random Mind of Miss Julie. Specifically it was her Biking in the Snow and White Out posts that got me thinking.

In those posts she included pics of snow-covered areas, such as DC, that had gotten whomped harder than usual this winter to show just what a weird winter it’s been. Even Arizona had gotten snow. (Well, it’s not uncommon for higher elevations to get snow during winter, but it is unusual for snow to fall in other parts of the state.)

Here is Nashville we’ve been cold, cold, cold, and had more snow than normal. Yet, I was talking to my friend Jade Walker who’s up in New Hampshire and they’ve gotten ripped off on the white stuff this winter. So, yes, the official consensus is it’s a weird winter!

But I’ve also heard people joke about global warming being a farce. How this winter is proof of that.

Yet I’ve seen others like my friends James share news story links on Facebook about how a harsher winter only proves global warming is getting worse.

I don’t know about global warming. I’m no scientist. Although, I don’t really buy it. Not in the way it’s currently being sold.

I do believe in the concept of global warming. Only because the Earth once experienced an Ice Age. It’s been heating up ever since that’s ended!

I think what we’re seeing now is natural. Man may have affected it somewhat, but I think the glaciers are destined to melt no matter what. Especially after I watched a NatGeo show about how the Great Lakes all once used to be glaciers themselves –and melted long before man had much influence on the environment!

Personally, I think we humans forget we live on a dynamic, ever-changing, ever-evolving planet. It scares us when we’re reminded of that because we can’t control it. Then we come up with ways to point the blame so we can feel like we have some sort of control…

But I’m digressing. Global warming or not, it’s a weird winter and most can agree on that.

But what if this was the last one? If global warming lives up to its name and the Earth’s temp only continues to rise, eventually there will come a time when snow never falls again. Just like how there’s a last snow every season. You’re not quit sure it will be the last (sometimes you’re hoping it will!), but you know it’ll be back, even if that means next winter.

But eventually, if what “they” say is true, there’ll come a season without snow. Followed by another, then another…

I don’t know about you, but that makes me sad. And more appreciative of whatever weather.

Because it reminds me that global warming aside, there’s going to be a last snow, a last rain, a last sunny day, a last fog in my own lifetime. And I’ll likely never even realize it was the last one. So, better to enjoy whatever the weather on this day because I just don’t know if I’ll be around to enjoy it tomorrow!

I got to thinking on my walk this morning, “Holy crumb. Twice now modern medicine’s saved my life.”

The first time was when I was born. I was breech. They had to perform a C-section to get me out. If I’d been born in a time when they didn’t know how to do it, or hadn’t perfected it…I wouldn’t be here.

Then, most recently, with my hitchhiker.

It really rocked me when I realized that twice now, just by benefit of the time period when I was born, there was medicine to save me.

That’s a really humbling thought. And kind of empowering.

I’m here for some reason. I don’t know what it is, but I’m meant to be here.

Either that or I’m part cat and I’ve now used at least two of my nine lives. (I can think of a couple other close calls, just not as dramatic as the breech or the hitchhiker, though.)

Wild.

It’s kind of a weird feeling thinking Wayne was also someone else’s “the one.” I always knew he was mine, for me, my other half, my pea pod mate.

But a couple weeks ago an old boyfriend (for lack of a better word, he really wasn’t a boyfriend exactly) looked me up on Facebook. That was fine. Others have too. One of Wayne’s old girlfriends looked him up too. It happens.

But then mine decided to send me a Valentine’s FB “card.” You know those apps you can forward on to people? It’s not really a card, but it was for Valentine’s on Valentine’s. Worse, it had this little kid couple on it.

Wayne flipped. And he never flips. But little kids are our thing. Specifically the little kids dressed in old-timey clothes that are usually shot in black and white and maybe one thing is color, like a rose. I know there’s an artist whose style that is. I just don’t know the name. But you can find it on cards, plaques, wall hangings, figurines, etc.

Wayne almost always gives me a card with those kids on it for birthdays, anniversaries, and, yes, Valentine’s Day. Including this past one. He has for years and years and years now. It really bothered him to see some other guy he’d never even heard of before giving me something similar.

In all honesty, I’d forgotten all about the other guy. I saw him back in college. It was just one of those things. I didn’t even remember his name! (I remembered his first name when he friended me, but I’m not sure I even knew his last name.)

But apparently it wasn’t just one of those things to him. He remembered me 20 years later.

He’s married now with 3 kids. He lives in Louisiana. It’s not like anything’s going to be rekindled.

But it brought up some dark days in Wayne and I’s early years. And hurt feelings. Wayne spent last night scrolling back through all my FB wall posts. He found all the other comments P (I’ll just call the other guy that) left…and started reading stuff into them.

I would feel the same way really. It’s kind of funny, in fact, that the shoes are reversed like this. Normally I’m the one making a mountain out of mole hill.

Anyway, so we had a big talk last night with me feeling bad and us prancing down a memory lane that really sucked. One where we broke up because Wayne refused to propose and I started seeing someone else. It was a really ugly time back before we got engaged.

There was also a girl back then in Wayne’s life who helped make those dark days darker. Not that he was seeing her necessarily. But she was a pot stirrer and she spent a lot of time stirring ours. I had this niggling feeling that if my P had contacted me, it wouldn’t be much longer before Pot Stirrer contacted Wayne. Maybe she already had.

So I said something about it. But this just made Wayne more suspicious about the P person and was I hiding more than I was letting on.

Well, then we started talking about Kelly, a girl Wayne had…I don’t even know what with back in his senior year of college. All I know is she sent him letters to his home address signed “love.” Years later he confessed that if she had been a smidge better looking he probably would’ve dumped me for her because he loved her. But nothing physical had transpired between them. But emotionally? They were tight. (Which hurts more than if they’d had sex to be honest.)

Kelly had looked him up late last year. That was cool. He actually told me about it. (After I had a niggling feeling that was going to happen and asked him if he’d heard from her yet. A few days later when she did friend him it flipped him out. I keep trying to tell him there’s something to women’s intuition and I have it but he doesn’t believe me!)

Anyway, he told me that they’d caught up. No big deal.

Until last night. During our talk hashing out all the FB  nonsense with the beau from my past, he made a comment about how she’d written something on his wall.

I never saw anything. So I went back to look, because Kelly is the one sore spot, the one threat I’ve never fully trusted has gone away.

Yes, she had written something. And Wayne can say it was nice. I see it differently.

Wayne was clearly her “one.” I knew it back then when I’d find her letters that he’d try to hide from me. I read it in her comment now.

Her very first one in their little exchange was about how she was glad we were together and how he’d said even back then I was the one.

That’s what she had focused on. Not that he was a CPA after all just like he’d set out to be or that he no longer lived in Colorado, but who he had married. And that’s all she had said.

I learned a long time ago that whatever people bring up first is what matters to them most. Wayne still mattered to her, and it was clear even from her seemingly innocuous post that she saw him as the one that got away.

She’s divorced now and you can’t tell me she didn’t look him up out of curiosity. Then come to find out he had married me…after all the volatility we knew back when she also knew him. He used to love to throw me under the bus and grumble to garner pity about how I mistreated him. (Which, in his defense, I was pretty controlling and jealous back then. A lot has since changed on that front I am happy to say.)

But he didn’t help my jealousy issue when he wouldn’t introduce me to friends like Kelly and he’d take their side over mine.

Anyway…that’s not the point. We both acted badly back then.

The point is, it kind of stung to realize he’s still her one. That he set her benchmark too.

Luckily he was very open and hid nothing when she contacted him. I think he respected that would’ve caused major problems.

Last night talking about Kelly and P, he broke down crying remembering how close he’d come to losing me forever when I walked out on him in ‘93. It reminded me how important he does view our relationship, even though he’s not always been quick to admit it.

I think we both agree that some of the drama we knew from our past just needs to stay there. We don’t want to deal with that stuff now.

However, we both agreed it makes us realize how happy we are with each other. It’s nice to catch up with people from our past, but as for the catch of our lives? We’ve got it. No regrets. No throw backs.

I’ve never been much of a girly-girl. In Jr. high and high school I probably spent the most time experimenting with makeup and doing my hair. (Good Lord did I spend the time doing my hair in high school! ’80s hair. BIG. ‘Nuff said!)

But I never really knew what I was doing. As I got older and ventured into the workforce, I realized cutting out certain vanity primping routines would result in more sleeping in time. (8 a.m. start times and me never did jive very well.)

But in my early 30s I noticed my skin changing. I got these weirdo dark spots on my cheeks. Likely spending all weekend every weekend at the beach when we lived in Jax didn’t help much.

I never really used foundation but I needed a way to even out my skin tone so…I started experimenting with makeup again. (Before that, I was a mascara and lipstick only kind a girl. Eye shadow and blush for special events.)

So I’ve spent the last several years looking for a makeup (meaning foundation) I like.

I found out fast if it’s in a bottle and I have to put it on, I don’t like it. But I’m not too keen on powders either.

Revlon has a creamy kind of one that comes in a compact I like. However, when  the Bare Minerals craze hit, I bit. Sort of.

Bare Minerals was far too expensive for me. I was not about to fork out that kind of money on makeup.

So I went with some store brand knock-off. I was not impressed. That stuff gets all over the place! And on my face? Blech. I don’t like the way it feels, and I really don’t like the way it wears on my skin.

I have friends who swear by it. They’re faces look great. One time I even asked a neighbor for tips. Maybe I was doing something wrong.

Nope. She applied her makeup the same way as I did…but with better results. (Both on her face and not as much clean up afterwards. I swear, all the sink needs is a little lipstick and some perfume and it’d look better than me after I get done trying to get mineral makeup on.)

The other day I needed some more makeup because my Revlon one was about out. I decided to try some Cover Girl Simply Ageless stuff. Not bad. I think I picked too light a tone, but guess what I found makes it work?

Swiping on some bronzing mineral makeup I still had laying around, followed by a touch of the finishing powder.

So that’s the secret…a creamier based foundation followed by the mineral stuff. Well, at least now I know!

Well, Wayne did it up big this year. Normally we just trade cards on Valentine’s Day. But this year…he went all out!

In addition to cards (which I got Sunday morning), Valentine’s came early when he surprised me by stuffing an iPod Touch in my purse on Saturday morning! (And if you saw how little my purse is, you’d understand that “stuffed” is an understatement.)

And I say surprised because I had no clue he’d went shopping for a present. (I saw him come home with cards early in the week and accidentally found where he’d stashed them, but I didn’t see the iPod!)

I have a devil of a time buying for him come birthdays, anniversaries or Christmas. Last year for Valentine’s Day I gave him a personalized print I found in one of my catalogs.

I broke down and got it because I couldn’t drive still then. There was no way for me to get him cards. Plus, I was knee deep in chemo and still having freak outs worrying if it was working, would I recover, would I die…. I wanted something to show him how much I loved him and to express he’s my Valentine come not only February 14th but the whole year through. That print summed it up.

But this year I had nothing. I requested could we just do cards, would that be okay?

Well, it seems this year Wayne was the one affected by all we’d gone through with the hitchhiker. He knew how much I’d been wanting an iPhone or iPod Touch. (I knew I couldn’t really justify the monthy iPhone fees, but I’ve been so intrigued by all the apps and stuff.)

He said Life’s too short to deny ourselves simple pleasures. Might as well splurge a little and celebrate being able to still share our lives together.

But what was even funnier…I was a big ol’ grump to him Friday night and starting Saturday morning. I grumbled at him for leaving me on the couch when I fell asleep there Friday night –and sticking me with Murph duties.

He kind of kept chuckling. I wanted him to say sorry so it made me more mad. But instead all he said was, “You’re going to feel so sorry…”

I thought he was bluffing. No way had he gone to the trouble of getting me a present. (He had asked what I might want. I showed him a ring in this one catalog. But I knew he hadn’t ordered it.)

I never in a million years would’ve thought he’d get me an iPod Touch. I was so stoked…and he was right.

I did feel bad after. But also so excited. Wayne once again keeps me on my toes and pulls out a romantic gesture just when I think he won’t.

That husband of mine…full of surprises and spoils me rotten. It’s why I love him so!

(And the spoiling didn’t stop there. It was an almost “no dishes weekend” too. Saturday he took me out to lunch and then to Greek for dinner. I made him breakfast Sunday morning, but then he made reservations for us Sunday night at our favorite restaurant and got us my favorite appetizers: a dozen oysters on the half shell! Full tummies, a new toy, great cards, tons of hugs and kisses and rejoicing at being alive and still together…it was a Valentine’s Day for the record books!)