I’m hearing friends talk about attending the proms of their grandkids and talking about graduation right around the corner and it makes me wistful. When you are prom age and graduation age, the world is at your feet and it’s the beginning of a whole new life full of grown-up decisions but yet still at the discovering stages of life. Hell we all are there if you think about it, but thinking back to when I was that age, it almost wants to make me cry. Everything makes me cry right now so that doesn’t surprise me. I just had my gall bladder removed on May 2 and here it is May hell I don’t even know what day it is, let me look. Okay, it’s May 11. Nine days ago, I had my first operation and while it went well, the recovery is like taking FOR-EV-A. But the thing is the last day I took a puff from a cigarette was the night before the operation so I’m like at Day 10 or something of smoke free existence and it’s killing me.
I have other stuff going on. A longtime friend who has lived with me for the past almost 17 years is gone. Not dead gone. Oh how I wish, just gone. Like as in I’m cheating and the best thing to do is leave. He didn’t even know I knew for 3 long months. I couldn’t say a word because of my stomach. I couldn’t get upset and I knew what would happen once I told him so I told him actually just before the operation and he left a day or so after.
Too much to go into but now is not the time to quit smoking.
But when you are of “mature” age and I say that like I’m a freaking old lady which I’m not, but when you are older, you sure do a lot of thinking. When you’re younger, you are a free spirit and you do the damndest things whenever you want to do it not thinking about consequences. But when you’re later in life I guess you could say you tend to do a lot of reflecting. You know those old grannies sitting in their rocking chairs on the porch? They’re reflecting. They are rehashing all the things that happened to them in their lives. I find myself doing it now.
I told myself once the gall bladder came out, I was going to be hell on wheels but it seems more like training wheels.
Back to proms and graduations, I remember my prom. I only went to one and the guy I went with I HATED. He was a friend and not a BOYfriend if youknowwhattamean. But God did he want more. Our first date alone I found myself straddled on top of a table (keep in mind I was a virgin and didn’t know what in the hell he was doing) and he kept humping and humping and I’m going what the freak is he doing???? We had our clothes on! Jesus. At the after party, I ditched him. He wasn’t going back for second helpings.
Graduation was wonderful. Very very exciting. I had no idea what the hell I wanted to do with my life except I knew I didn’t want to go to school anymore. I was interested in modeling but that didn’t pan out. I went to live with my aunt in FLA and was going to enroll in the modeling school there but I just kept putting it off. I still really didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.
Boyfriends? Jesus, there were many. I kind of went a bit crazy when I turned 17 and went from one to the other. My first real boyfriend was a motorcycle dude as I liked to refer to him. My mother hated the ground he walked on. Too risky. Too dangerous. He had to be a druggie, she would say. Okay well he looked it and okay well he did smoke pot but I had no idea what pot even was back then. All I knew was that it was something only the cool people smoked. He ended up dying a few years later from what I had no idea as I was married to someone at about that time.
The marriage lasted for almost 20 years and produced two beautiful children. As things happen, he left leaving me with the kids (I got the better end of the deal) but it was real hard. So in walks this jerk where I worked as a waitress and the boss knew him and said I should go out with him, he’s nice. He’s the jerk that just left. Nice? Hitler was nice. The devil is nice. This guy was a snake.
But I’m dealing with it. Smokes sure would be nice, but I’m dealing with it and once I get a little better from my surgery, I’m going to be hell on wheels .















I know I know I’m a “ranty” sort of person but come on now, don’t sell me something that will make me sick. Especially my dog.
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