Dear Hillary

Posted on November 14, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Comey had nothing to do with my decision not to vote for you.

There are a lot of reasons I didn’t vote for you – and the FBI investigation is merely one of them.  It’s way down the list of reasons, but yes, it’s there.
And now I’m really glad I didn’t vote for you because, once again, it’s not your fault.  Blaming Comey for your loss is like blaming the beer for getting you drunk.   Again, you refuse to take responsibility.

Four good men died in Benghazi – it wasn’t your fault.

You called half the country deplorable – whose fault was that?

You called everyone who supported Mr. Trump “stupid, uneducated.”

You fed into fear – fears that have no basis in reality.

And you’ve refused to do anything to stop the rioting that’s going on in your name now.

 

I didn’t vote for you because I refuse to be told I have to vote for someone based only on their sex.  Telling me I should vote for  you because you’re a woman is as sexist as saying I shouldn’t vote for you because you’re a woman.

I didn’t vote for you because you said one thing in public and another in private.  I hate liars.  I hate people who play games.  Enough said

I didn’t vote for you because your ads were the nastiest, and most annoying, I’ve seen in years.   And I’ve seen a few elections come and go

I didn’t vote for you because you claim to be all about the right of women to choose – and you chose to stay with a man who treated you like shit, in public.

I didn’t vote for you – and this is one of the biggest reasons – because I was bullied and picked on and teased all through school, through grade school, and high school, and college, and in some of my earliest jobs.  I was called a lot of names.   I worked hard to get advanced degrees and I have a job I love.  And along you come, calling me deplorable, and calling me racist, and bringing back a lot of bad memories.  Your supporters – they remind me of those kids on the playground who wouldn’t play with me.  I thought I was past all that.  And here I am, in my 60’s, again being called names.

You should be ashamed.

I just don’t like you.  You remind me of my sisters, the ones who are so nice on the surface and so nasty underneath that facade.
I much prefer “what you see is what you get” to “I’ll tell you what you want to hear.”

And this sore loser thing?  It’s not really making anyone like you more.  Get out there and tell the spoiled brats to go home, to deal with reality, to stop whining.   Then maybe I’ll be able to forgive you, just a little, for calling me names

 

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Election woes

Posted on November 11, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

So
I’ve been thinking about posting about politics for several weeks

I didn’t

Because I’ve grown more conservative as I get older
I’m still afraid to say what I really think

 

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So tired

Posted on November 4, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

I’m worn out by this election.   Last night I was subjected to attack ad after attack ad, vicious, nasty ads.   It made me hate the candidate that approved those messages.  It made me vow, again, never to vote for that candidate.   Disgusting, deplorable, nasty.   Hurtful words thrown around.

So, Hillary, knock it off, please, my mute button is about worn out.
I’m the Princess and I approve this message – and I disapprove of your ads.

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when did my fingers get wrinkles?

Posted on November 1, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

When did I get old?
I have old hands

Old knuckles

My heart and soul are still singing

My body creaks and moans

I fly in my dreams

I limp in my walks

 

growing old is not for sissies

 

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Bittersweet and melancholy

Posted on August 21, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Fourteen years ago I moved to Pennsylvania, leaving behind my entire family.   Most of them didn’t care, and some of them did.   I went back a few times, once a year, for the first few years.  Then life got in the way, and it’s been six years since I’ve been back home.

I just spent ten days there.  I’m going back to my real home tomorrow.   It’s been a wonderful ten days, I saw so many people, people I still love, who still love me.   I think I miss them more now, when I haven’t even left yet, than I did before I came.

But my heart is in PA, and oh how I’ve missed my Bear and my Max.   I long for my home.    I dread the drive, but I can’t wait to be in my Bear’s arms, and have my Max do a happy dance around me.   I don’t even care if he knocks me down.

I’ll get up in the morning, and pack the few things that are still in my motel room into the car, drink a cup of tea and get a quick shower and head home.   I really hope there isn’t a lot of traffic or construction delays.   But I have a book on CD so the time will pass, but every minute sitting is one more minute I’m away from my Bear.   And every mile I drive is one mile closer to home.

 

I never thought I’d leave the little town where I grew up.   Funny how falling in love can change your mind about things.

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She bit me

Posted on May 25, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Yes, sweet little kitty turned out to be not so sweet.

She bit me

Drew blood

And a whirlwind of doctors, shots, antibiotics, followed

My arm is sore from the bite, and from the shots

My heart is sore – I failed her.   She’s no longer welcome here, because the Bear does not allow anyone, or anything, to hurt me.

Max has chased her away.   He never liked her anyway.

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I interrupt this conversation to……..

Posted on May 21, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

This morning I saw a meme posted on facebook that says something like “I don’t mean to interrupt you, I just randomly remember things and get so excited!”   and it was followed by tons of comments like, “oh, that’s SO me, LOL!”   and “I KNOW, my friends get so annoyed, but I can’t help it!”

Bullshit.

You can help it.   It’s rude, and it’s annoying and it makes the person you interrupted feel like you weren’t listening at all, that you were merely waiting till it was your turn to speak and you got tired of waiting.

Stop it.

A few people posted that they have adult ADHD and can’t help it.  Really?  Sounds like an excuse for bad behavior to me.

Do you let your children interrupt you?  Do YOU not get annoyed when someone does it to you?   Then stop it and stop saying, “oh, that’s just who I am!” and acting like it’s all cute.  It’s not.  It’s not cute when you’re 5 and it’s not cute when you’re 35 and it’s not cute when you’re 85.   Well.  Maybe 85, because by then the fact that you’re still breathing is kinda cute in itself.   But otherwise, no, it’s not cute, it’s not funny.

It’s a statement, one that says, “what you’re saying is not nearly as important as this random piece of nonsense that just flew into my brain and is flying out of my mouth.”  It says that you are the most important person in the conversation, which is obviously not a conversation at all, since you’re not listening to the other person.

People tend to talk over me.  I’m not sure why.  I reach a point where I let it be known that I will not tolerate it for another minute, but it takes me doing that more than once to actually have it sink in with a lot of people.   I’m one of those people you’re interrupting, and then laughingly apologizing to – an apology that’s meaningless because you’re about to do the same thing again in a few minutes.   While you’re being amused with yourself, stop for a second and think how it makes the other person feel.   And when I stop talking to you, stop trying to make myself heard, don’t ask why we’re not friends any more.   That is, if you even notice.

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I’m a sucker

Posted on May 20, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Or maybe just a softie.   I’m ruining my reputation.   Sigh

Yesterday my husband told me that a cat had been sleeping on the septic cover.   He said, “she looks hungry, but we’re not keeping her.”

Last night, she showed up in the front yard.   I went out, sat down, tossed treats to her – dog treats because that’s all we had – and within 5 minutes, she was up the hill and rubbing her head on me.   I fed her cheese and treats, and we got a cup of dog kibble and she gobbled it down.   And then rubbed against us – both me and the man who insisted we’re not going to keep her, while every other sentence involved how we were going to have to take her to the vet, and get the dog to accept her and by the way, we’re not keeping her.

We let Max out and he chased her into the woods.   But she came back this morning.   He chased her again.   She came back tonight and got supper – I bought kitty food – she’s a baby, tiny, starving, but so pretty.  She talks to me.   She meows and purrs and rubs against me, and she’s completely breaking my heart.

Max hates her.   He chased her again tonight.

I came in and washed the dishes and cried – and called myself a silly sentimental old fool.

 

Today is my mother’s birthday.   She hated cats.  I keep thinking, “DId you send this cat to me?   But you HATED cats!”

And by the way, we’re probably going to keep her.   If we can ever get Max to not want to eat her.

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sometimes it’s good to google

Posted on May 14, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Periodically, I get this pain in the left side of my chest – enough to catch my breath, but not enough to make me run to the ER. It’s annoying, and even though I know it’s not my heart, there’s a moment of panic each time. Plus, it hurts!

So tonight I went googling – random stabbing pain in left side of rib cage – and came upon something called  precordial catch syndrome

Damn, it matches exactly what happens to me. Well. That’s a relief. I normally avoid googling symptoms because it’s pretty much a guarantee that you’ll find you have something deadly and have only a few minutes to live. But every now and again, I just have to check.

(Disclaimer – I have a condition called condritis, inflamation of the cartilage between the ribs, so I am no stranger to chest pains, and have had multiple cardiac tests over the years – all of which come back clean. Also, I have a doctor appointment this week and will be discussing this with him.)

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Hooray for May

Posted on May 8, 2016 by suziecreamcheese

Ah, May – three little letters that knock me to my knees, every single year. I keep telling myself this year will be better, it won’t hit me so hard.
I’m always wrong.

My Poppa died in May. He died two days before my mother’s 80th birthday. Mother, being Mother, said, “Your father knew how to get everyone together for my birthday,” as we scheduled his funeral.

Mother’s Day – who came up with that brilliant idea? A knife in the heart of every person who doesn’t have their mom any more, and anyone who tells you that loss grows easier with time has either never experienced that pain, or is just an outright lying sack. It gets deeper, and slower, and more a part of your every breath – but it never gets easier.

Her birthday – a day that we always celebrated in grand style – is now a day that I spend staring into space and wishing she was here to tell me to stop my nonsense.

And my favorite sister – the sister who died too soon, who went where she couldn’t take me even though she’d promised me she never would – her birthday is also in May.

It’s all a bit more than a princess should have to bear.

My Bear takes care of me – he doesn’t really understand, but he tries. He takes me out for ice cream, and he makes me laugh. If it wasn’t for him, I would spend this month in bed, with the blankets over my head.

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