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Archive for the ‘Roy’s Prior Life’ Category

 

While we may have only been married for 9 years now, it has certainly been an interesting road we’ve been on with twists, turns, dips, and climbs.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

 

Today I took a walk up the street

And picked a flower and climbed the hill above the lake,

And secret thoughts were said aloud.

We watched the faces in the clouds

Until the clouds had blown away.

Were we ever somewhere else?

You know it’s hard to say.

I never saw blue like that before …

 
NEVER SAW BLUE LIKE THAT

Shawn Colvin

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There is absolutely no one else with whom I’d rather be on my current life path than you.

 

Happy Anniversary, Roy!

 

I love you!

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Traveling by airplane in today’s cultural climate can be stressful at best without other issues being thrown in there that are harmless and out of the traveler’s control.  

Recently, Roy and I went to Southern California (Ontario, CA, to be exact) for a business conference.  We flew from Sacramento to Ontario because it’s quicker, cheaper, and less stressful on our relationship than trying to drive.  Gas as well as wear and tear on our vehicles coupled with the sheer time saved all play a factor.

Anyway, it was cool and rainy out, so I wore jeans and a sweater with a tank top underneath to the airport so I could keep warm without having to carry unnecessary items.  Little did I know that my sweater would cause the machines to go nuts and me to get a total and complete pat-down.  I mean really now … I don’t even come CLOSE to looking or acting like a terrorist … and couldn’t pull it off if I tried.  I’m tall, fair-skinned, red-haired, bold, and outspoken as well as in my early 60s.  I guess, however, since I don’t fit any profiles, I am safe to target.  

In any event, my sweater had glittery threads sewn throughout, which caused the entire group of TSA agents to almost have a melt-down.  Really, now … a damn SPARKLY SWEATER?  Come on now.  Get a grip!   A sparkly sweater.  

I volunteered to take the sweater off and go through the scanner machine again, but they weren’t having it.  Oh no … let’s pat her down COMPLETELY right out in the open.  When I say “completely” … I mean completely.  

“Well, ma-am we’re only using the backs of our gloved hand in the ‘sensitive areas’.”

Really, now … would *they* want that done to THEM out in the open?  

Fine.  I’ll work hard at keeping my non-PC mouth shut.

Anyway, while they were doing this, I told Roy … “Remind me to *NEVER* wear this sweater while travelling again. Sparkles are apparently dangerous.”

Then, on the way home, there was another dumb issue.  I guess I attract it.  As I said … since I don’t fit the standard terrorist profile, I’m one of the first ones targeted.  You know how it works … get the children (my daughter who, at the time was 12 years old, was pulled out of line due to a box of AAA batteries that they thought were “bullets”); get the tall red-haired Caucasian women (like me); get the elderly (they pulled my very frail 87 year old white haired mother out of line to pat down and go through all of her luggage once also), etc.  You get the picture. 

A couple of years ago, it was because I had lost a bunch of weight but hadn’t bought an entirely new wardrobe yet, so I was patted down “because your pants are too baggy”.  (That blog post is back in my historical posts.)  

Ok … uhhh … I’m sorry … (I guess) … that I was working to be healthy but couldn’t afford an entirely new wardrobe, because my income is taxed excessively by the goons in Washington DC.  

Next it was about a sparkly sweater.  

So … coming home after the sparkly sweater incident (believe me … I packed it under the plane this time) … I was eyeballed closely because the State of California DMV does not know how to put hyphenated names on their driver licenses, but my passport, my Social Security card, my legal name, my airline ticket, whatever, all have a hyphenated name shown.  Generally, the TSA agent can see past this idiosyncrasy with California and understand that both names are listed there, but they are not listed the way everyone else lists them.  Basically, I have NEVER had TSA have an issue in the past.

Until this time …

TSA (snotty): “Next time, ma’am, make sure the ticket matches the driver license.” 

Uhhh … then it won’t match my PASSPORT … which is by far and away more important to match.   The State of California can’t seem to do it right. 

TSA (confuzzled): “uhhhhh …”

Yes, that’s a word.   I made it up.  It’s a cross between confused and puzzled. So there. 

I want to ask this question however.  Has TSA ever actually caught a terrorist before anything happened?  I sincerely doubt it.  I wonder if, in their training manuals, it states “your job is to harass anyone that doesn’t look or act like they’ll be a problem, particularly if they’ve lost weight or are wearing sparkly sweaters because that way you won’t be accused of profiling.”

Anyway, when travelling, along with not carrying all the things they say you can’t carry (fingernail clippers, tweezers, bazookas, bottles of water, hand grenades, shampoo, hand lotion, etc), I offer you my additional list of “don’t do these things”.

1. No baggy pants

2. No sparkly sweaters

3. No AAA batteries

4. No California driver licenses

  
 

Carry on, everyone.  Happy travels … if possible.

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Happy 27th birthday 🎂 to our “baby girl”, Kara Crowley Wahler Buntjer!  It’s hard for your mama to believe it has been that long since the above picture was taken. 

By the way … Big Papa Roy and I love you dearly!   ❤️

  

  
  
  

Alex, we love you because of who you are as an awesome man and because you make our baby girl happy!  You’re the best son-in-law ever … and most certainly our MOSTEST FAVORITE of all. 😉 

  
 

Have a marvelous birthday 🎁 celebration 🎉 and bring in 2016 ⏳ in style. 

🎆🍾💥💥🍾🎆

   

 

  

😘❤️

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“I’ve got to tell you I’ve been rackin’ my brain, hopin’ to find a way out.   I’ve had enough of this continual rain.  Changes are acomin’, no doubt.  It’s been a too long time with no peace of mind, and I’m ready for the times to get better.  …  I feel so lonesome at times.  I have a dream that I could live.   It’s burnin’ holes in my mind.”   Crystal Gayle

We all know how some days/weeks in life are better than others. Right now, I have a job I smile through gritted teeth at and bear until I can leave for the better life I work toward. 

Management is insulting to not only me but also to anyone not part of their virtual “good ol’ boy” in-club/political cronyism that gets all the job favoritism heaped on certain people that have no real ability or knowledge to actually *do* the work they are paid top dollar for, while those that actually WORK are told they aren’t “good enough”.  What it boils down to is that there are those of us that take actual PRIDE in what we produce and refuse to kiss political ass.  We refuse to play their games.   The idiotic powers-that-be don’t like that.  It’s like high school cliques and being around the “mean girls”.   I didn’t do it then.  I sure as hell won’t now.  I have entirely too much self-respect … something that is in very short supply in today’s world. 

Then there’s Roy’s job that doesn’t understand basic scheduling and caters to one person who manipulates everything to provide only good schedules to him.   Roy gets the dregs … because of management ineptitude that is too afraid to upset the apple cart and wants everything easy on them.   What they fail to understand is that not addressing the issue just causes more issues in the future, particularly since, when their “golden boy” gets into scheduling nightmares (which he is VERY prone to), they then depend on Roy to bail them out. 

So what is my point here?  My point is … I am glad to be working toward financial independence so that we don’t have to depend on the inept or the cronyism that is rampant. “Regular” jobs (whatever the hell those are) … suck … BIG TIME. 

Have a Plan B.  

  

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This is a 2nd marriage for both Roy and me.  I’ve mentioned that before, but it’s still amazing to both of us.  Neither of us wanted another marriage for different reasons, but when it happened for us, it just was right.  Period.

So on this day 8 years after we got married, 12 years after meeting face-to-face, and 13 years after meeting randomly online, I offer this to my husband.

  
He’s always there for me and has continually proved it in not only the best of times but also the worst. 

I love you, Roy.  Happy anniversary.

💞

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My oldest son is 33 today.  He was born at 5:15 am (Pacific Time) on 11.7.1982.  (See the picture above?  That’s me 33 years ago when I was bringing him home from the hospital.).  I’m not quite sure how he could possibly BE that age, since, when I think about how old I feel, I don’t feel like I could have a child that age, but since he was born when I was 28, I suppose that I can’t deny it. When I walk past the mirror and look at the reflection staring back at me, I understand my age, but, truthfully, how I feel within is no different than when I was 23 … 33 … 43 … 53 … and so on.  My mother used to tell me the same thing, but I never really understood it until I got older.   I understand now, Mom.
 

 

Anyway, my oldest son and I have … hmmm … how do I describe it … ok let’s try this: a difficult relationship.  I won’t go into it any further than that.  I’ll just state that I love him without question and unconditionally, because he is my son.  I am constantly amazed by the things he knows and can do, but I don’t always understand his life view.  That’s ok though.  I don’t have to understand, as it is HIS life to live and HIS view to have.  I wish him health and happiness on this birthday of his and his journey in life, and I know that he wishes me the same.

  

He can make me crazy at times and so angry that I say and do things I shouldn’t … and then in the next breath, he can make me laugh till I have tears running down my face.  No matter what, however, I love him.  I started his journey with him, and I did what I thought was best when raising him, even if I made mistakes along the road (which we all of course do).  I know that he is also doing his best at living his own life … and that’s all anyone can do.

 

Happy birthday, Logan!  Roy and I love you. 

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There are times that I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of being sick and tired of being the “strong one”.  Can I handle a lot and get through life’s challenges?  You betcha!  I’ve been through things that would drag a lot of people to their knees … if not lay them out flat.  I’ve seen things and heard things that most people won’t … but that’s ok … since I also know that I have a far better life than a lot of people around the world do.  I also know that, no matter what, I’ll make it through whatever life throws my way.  It comes down to my father’s teaching of “play the cards you’re dealt in life, Jill; enjoy the life you’re given; and don’t ever EVER fold”.

 

I do, however, get very tired of “friends” and “family” assuming that I can handle anything, that I’ll be ok with whatever the issue is, and that I’ll be there no matter what for them.  For the most part, that is true, and I guess that’s a back-handed compliment … but please … just because I’m outwardly strong doesn’t mean I can take whatever is dished out at me and be fine with it.  Just because I’m outwardly strong doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings and hurts and needs and desires like others.  Those people who are outwardly strong are sometimes hiding their own emotions so that others won’t see them and be hurt by them or have to deal with them … or they’ve learned to handle their fears and their challenges on a day-to-day basis, making it so that when something bigger comes along, they know that they can and will tackle it too.

 

What I’m saying may not be clear to those that just see a strong front and think all is good.  However, those that are “strong” understand.  Remember … those that carry on in the face of all odds … those that handle the burdens of life … those that say “don’t worry about it; I’m fine; whatever” … those that are always there for you … could also use some care on occasion.  They could use their feelings and emotions being acknowledged.  Don’t spend all your time catering to the ones that aren’t like that, assuming that the strong one that is always there for you no matter what … always will be … or always will like what you say and/or do to them … or always really will tell you what they think and feel about something personal to them.  Don’t assume that even if the strong one says they’re fine and they aren’t hurting that this is truly the case.  Don’t assume that those that aren’t as strong need all of the special treatment and all of the special dispensations … because … well … because they “aren’t strong like the other person is”.  Don’t just cater to those with the feel-good attitude and/or the financial backing if the “strong one” only provides emotional support.  Guess what?  At the end of the day, emotional support is worth FAR MORE than happy attitude, keeping the peace with the “not strong” one, and financial backing.

 

The picture below sums it up completely.  I have been told I am the “strong one” since I was little.  Roy has been also.  While that’s all well and good and has gotten us through numerous issues alone as well as together, we both know that ONLY the other one has EVER understood how much the other one hurts when our strength is used and abused by others that should know better.  Actions, deeds, and TRUE support for the “strong one” is worth more than those that are fortunate to have someone like that around them generally understand … because … well … hey … they’re the “strong one” … and they can handle it.

 

… or can they???????

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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