My pet peeves come from stupid things people do. I hate it when people destroy things needlessly. That is graffiti, vandalism, and even personal destruction. I don’t like to see broken things around or destroyed/marked up things. I hate it when there is litter and trash scattered across the country side or even on the streets. We can keep this world clean if we cleaned up after ourselves. If our trash can gets knocked over, we can pick up everything that fell out instead of letting the wind and animals scatter it around. If we drop something, and we realize it, we can pick that thing up. We can clean our space even if our neighbors don’t. Monuments, signs, and walls are not there to be marked up or broken apart either. We can leave things nice for other people to enjoy. There is nothing enjoyable about broken things.
Thanks for letting me state my peeves. It seems that everywhere I go lately something is marring the experience because of stupid actions.
My first Hollywood crush was Kevin Bacon. When I saw him in Footloose and the Flatliners, I thought he was so hot. And I loved the characters. My best friend and I went to every movie of his at the local theater. We talked about him, and she gave me a button that said, “I love Kevin.” During that time, my dad took me to a car museum, as he usually did, that was called the Bacon Museum. I was so excited. What if the guy who owned the museum was Kevin? I kept looking all around the museum looking for clues of Kevin, never finding one. But we did meet the owner, and he looked like an older Kevin. I convinced myself that we had gone to Kevin Bacon’s father’s car museum.
I have two pairs of ear piercings. I was 16 when my brother bought my first pair of earrings, with my mother’s permission. So when I went to his place to visit, my cousin took me to get my ears pierced. We called my mother to get permission. After the piercing, I didn’t touch my ears at all. I didn’t want to irritate them but didn’t know that they needed to be twisted. Several hours later my cousin took me into the bathroom and drenched cotton balls in rubbing alcohol to clean them. That is when she found out that I had left them alone. So dribbling the alcohol down my ear and neck, she started turning the first one. Being warm and hungry, smelling the rubbing alcohol, I quickly found myself on the floor with my brother standing over me and hearing my cousin laughing in the background. Needless to say, my next set went much easier because I kept turning them all day long. But when I got home, my mother accused me of going behind her back and planning all of this and asking for forgiveness, not permission. Thirty years later, and it is still an issue.
I have no tattoos. When I was in high school, the thing was for girls to get roses tattooed on their shoulders. I loved roses and wanted one, but I never wanted to part with my money or deal with my parents. So, time went on, and I never got one. Now thirty years later, two of our four kids have tattoos. My husband wasn’t very happy with them, and the saying became that if I wanted a divorce, all I had to do was to get a tattoo. Now I have found one I would like to get with my daughter. She is ready any day, but again, I don’t want to deal with my husband about it. The tattoo would be a tiny rose along the edge of one ear; my daughter wants hers on a finger. Some day…
I have been in a bad habit of cutting myself down; usually only seeing my bad traits. This negative self talk is not healthy, and so, I have tried to change that about myself. I try to smile at myself in my mirror in the mornings and be grateful. But that has nothing to do with looking at the positives of myself. This prompt is helpful in that. I have to take a look at myself and see what I like.
Today, I am proud of my perseverance. Even though much of what I set out to do gets waylaid by my sidetracked mind, I do find ways to get back and finish. It might take me longer than expected to finish something, but it will get finished.
I am proud to be a loyal friend. It takes a lot for me to turn on someone. Once we are friends, I am there for you and will not turn my back on you. I will not dump a friend for a newer one who comes along. I will try to find ways to fit everyone into my life and stand up for those who need it.
I am proud that I can see things on the brighter side. I am usually positive and upbeat even when a lot of things seem to be going wrong. I will be miserable for a short time, then bounce back and find my happiness and the light in the world.
I have had my share of guilty pleasures over the years. Food has been among the top of them, primarily gooey chocolate. But other things have been guilty pleasures as well. I used to love watching my husband work when we were just dating. He had a grace about how he worked on an engine or manhandled a truck transmition. Some of my guilty pleasures have faded over the years too.
Right now, I would say that my guilty pleasures are eating or drinking something creamy, smooth, and chocolaty and reading a good book in a hot bath. I have always loved reading, but would feel guilty doing it when I could be doing something productive. Maybe that is why the bath seems right. I am soaking in a hot hug and reading something that engages my mind.
I have many little snippets of memory from when I was between two and four. That is a time when we lived in southern California. It was a location very different from my present location, where I grew up, in many ways. But it is a dream that stands out as a complete full memory of my early years. Sometime when I was young, I dreamed that we were being attacked by bees, and when they stung they left holes in us. The only safe place was to climb on top of the picnic table that my grandfather made. It was in the southern California yard. I could picture it well. There was the block fence that separated the yard from my dad’s junkyard, our swing set, the play house, a large tree, and grass. I would run from the house and jump off the steps to get to the picnic table as quickly as possible. I had this dream many times over the years, and it’s probably why I was so afraid of bees.
I have been thinking and thinking and I haven’t come up with a confession for the challenge. I have very personal confessions to make, but they will never appear here.
I know that many people make a confession like a personal statement. But, I can’t come up with one of those either.
It is you get what you get. I am pretty open, so I don’t have a lot to confess.
I do make bold unsupported statements when talking with others without really thinking things through. I don’t even truly believe the statement before I make it, but it comes tumbling out of my mouth. I often have to remind myself that I only know a person or event as I have witnessed it or them. The rest is not supported. Yet, I continue to make these stupid statements. It is like my mouth has a mind of its own and it enjoys making a fool of myself.
If I won the lottery, I would pay off my bills, invest, keep working as I am, and hike during the warm months. I would keep working as I am because I enjoy it and I don’t have a lot of hours or hard work. I would be able to let my husband retire to support him as he did me when I was going to school.
I would be able to hike the way I want to and get the lighter weight gear. I would be able to travel the world with my kids and do some of the bucket list things that take more money. I would be able to remodel my house and get more yard work done.
I would donate money to cancer patients as I wanted the Cancer Warriors to be able to do.
I hope that I would stay humble and kind.
I don’t get sad often. I do cry at a lot of things and get momentarily sad; however, I don’t really get sad most of the time. The death of a loved one or a pet are what gets me down. I have seen enough death as most of us have. And, I will see more. So I focus on other things.
I don’t think I want to discuss any more because it is just a fact of life that none of us want to go through.