Lies, lies, more lies!

There' are a few lies that were told about me that are just amusing. Like the one where a former friend claimed that she asked me to quit calling her. I guess she hadn't noticed that the only contact I had initiated with her for years was to remind her that it was time to pay her cell phone bill. She never asked me to stop calling her, but even if she had it wasn't needed. I had no desire to hold a phone up to my ear and listen to her trash talk endlessly about everyone she knew. I also had no delusions that she wasn't trash talking about me too, but that was confirmed when some things she said got back to me, because the person she gossiped with sent some private messages to a real friend spouting the nonsense. Of course the real friend forwarded the messages to me so that I could see what was going on. There was also the big fat lies she told on some forum posts.

Here's a pro clue; if you're going to talk about someone online don't do it in a place you've told your target that you hang out and also revealed your user name.

Seriously?

Do people really think that if they go fishing for information about me from other people that I won't find out? Am I supposed to believe that someone who doesn't give a crap about me is truly interested and isn't just asking because someone that she has been proven to gossip with is asking for information? So, we have neurotic former friend with a tragic heroine fantasy asking a person who won't speak to me (because I called her out on what she was doing) asking yet another person about me. Don't people have their own lives to be neurotic about?

Let it go!

Good advice, but I'm having a hard time with it.

Lies told to me and about me over three years ago. Every once in a while in a conversation one of those lies pops up, and I have to set someone straight.

I wonder if writing one last blog post detailing the lies and telling the truth will finally allow me to let it go.

Something to consider.

They Say Karma Is a Bitch

If I could choose, my preferred version of Karma would be that good things happen to the nice, honest people rather than bad things happening to the greedy, fake, lying, hurtful people. But I guess that Karma is her own bitch and I can't tell her how to conduct her business.

Shouldn't mothers love their children?

Those of you who have or had a mother who truly loved you, please know that you are one of the lucky ones.

My mother's final blow; "I hereby acknowledge that I have a daughter. (my name) and I am intentionally excluding her from this will."

I don't know what I did to make my mother hate me, other than the fact that I was born. I remember her screaming at me that she never wanted to have kids, maybe my sin was being the first born. My hurt isn't about money, I don't think there's much left. I just wish that I had been blessed with a loving mother.

Snack Time

Georgie and I are sharing some raw cashews. I am reminded of something from my younger (and wilder) days.

While living in Isla Vista (near UCSB, known for burning down the Bank of America building in the 60's) I discovered that raw cashews and raisins made a very tasty snack combination. My friend Paul and I needed to get home to San Diego, so we decided to hitchhike. I brought along a big bag of my favorite snack. We got a ride from a rather good looking man, who had a drinking problem. He had a big glass of tequila sunrise that he took liberal use of, and he stopped at a bar on the way and bought all of us a couple of beers. I can't remember what set him off, but the end of our journey with him was when he swerved over to the shoulder of the freeway, slammed on his brakes and yelled at us to get out of his car. Frankly, I was a bit relieved to not be in a car driven by a seriously drunk asshole, but not so crazy about being on the side of a freeway in the dark. Paul and I walked to the next exit, were lucky enough to find that the Greyhound bus station was right there, and managed to get on the last bus of the night to San Diego.

What does this have to do with raw cashews and raisins? It turned out that this particular combination caused a prolific and odoriferous reaction in my digestive system. Poor Paul, sitting next to me in a bus, finally declared that I needed to stop eating those things.

We arrived safely in San Diego, and Paul called his mother to come pick us up from the bus station downtown. She told us that the only reason she did was that we were smart enough to take the bus instead of hitchhiking. If she only knew!

Love This!

I just hope that Meryl actually said this:

“I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me. I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. I hate conflict and comparisons. I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals. And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience.” _ Meryl Streep

I especially like the part about the people who lie and manipulate. I'm very much done with those people, and the ones who can't have a conversation with me without throwing in at least one insult. I also know that someone who will trash talk about others to me will trash talk about me to others.

UPDATE-Turns out that Meryl Streep didn't say it. It was written by José Micard Teixeira.