Dressed Down And All Inked Up

My husband and I went to a restaurant tonight to eat dinner. When we are out, on more occasions than not, we get stared at. I mean blatantly, and tonight was no exception.

We have gotten stared at by on duty police officers, elderly couples, small children, middle aged adults, and tonight we managed to get the attention of an entire baseball team.

The attention we draw when we go out is not because I'm some breathtaking beauty, not even close. The attention grabber is my husband. He will wear anything, and he will wear it anywhere. It makes not one bit of difference to him where he is going. If he wants to wear something ...he does.

This man once wore his pajama pants to a Longhorn restaurant and caused us to be seated so far in the back corner that it was like an isolation booth. He wears sleeveless t-shirts (self-altered) with quaint sayings like "Boot Hill Saloon, Daytona Beach, Across From The Cemetery."

He usually wears these shirts with Abercrombie cargo shorts, although he does have a pair of mint green polo shorts with pink flamingos on them that he opts to substitute now and then.

To complete such an ensemble, he chooses from an assortment of shoes that you would have to see to believe.

Among his shoe collection are a pair of navy blue Crocs, Ed Hardy tennis shoes, and plaid Sperry topsiders just to name a few.

Another thing that enhances my husbands look when he goes out, is the fact that he wears his hair as is. Meaning if he gets up and his hair is standing straight up like a toddler after a good nights sleep then that's okay with him.

I realize that the clothing and hair descriptions that I have just given you would be quite enough to get the attention of others, but believe it or not there is more to the attraction.

To add to his look, my husband has seven tattoos that are all exposed when he is dressed as I have described above. There is bob wire running around his arm, Japanese writing that says who knows what, a tombstone, a polo horse with rider, and God knows what all, both arms, .both legs...as one of our friends likes to put it..."He's all inked up".

When I married my husband he didn't have a single tattoo. He was a preppy clean cut guy with unmarked skin. Now when I roll over at night I am momentarily frightened that I've gotten into bed with a convict.

Now don't get me wrong, this man who wears these sleeveless shirts, shorts, crazy shoes, with wild hair and all the ink exposed knows how to dress. He can dress in very nice clothing, I know because I have seen it happen once or twice.

One time in particular that comes to mind is when I had to have a fairly major surgery done at Piedmont Hospital. I had just gotten back in my room from recovery, and I was on a morphine drip, so I was a bit unsure of what was going on around me.

That's when it happened. I looked up and saw him at the foot of my bed. I will never forget that moment, because it scared me to death. There he was in a pair of very nice dress pants, a white dress shirt and a tie.

I glanced down at his feet and he was wearing a pair of Bostonian loafers.....all I could think after I caught my breath was my God they've told him I'm going to die and he's decided he needs to look his best to go over to the funeral home and make the arrangements.

The one thing that really puzzles me about him is that when we get the stares and looks, he seems confused about it. I had to give him a brief synopses on what he looked like tonight when we were getting stared at, because I could tell that he was going to need clarification on what the problem might be.

Did he care? Not one bit. There is a part of me that thinks that degree of self-esteem must be a wonderful thing to have. I personally don't even come close to having that kind of self assured attitude.

He sits and has his dinner as if he never notices a thing, while I sit across from him feeling self conscious enough for both of us. I usually have on whatever I've worn to work and since my job is in a high school classroom, needless to say, I look a bit more conservative than he does, yet I'm the one that is bothered by the stares...

I will say that it is eye opening to see how quickly people judge others by their appearance...They are probably thinking that my husband is a criminal, who doesn't have a job, and could care less.

In reality, however, he is a Lieutenant with one of the largest police departments in the state of Georgia, and has been with them for over 25 years.

Changing my husband's idea about what constitutes proper attire for leaving the house is not a feat I'm ever going to accomplish. I have even gone as far as loading Z Z tops "Every girls crazy 'bout a sharped dressed man " song onto my playlist that I play in his vehicle...he was unaffected.

I just wish that every now and then he'd wear a dress shirt and tie......I love a man in a dress shirt and tie....I suppose I should be more realistic....okay...sleeves....could I get a shirt with sleeves?

The Flip Side Of Nice

I have had a pretty rough week. Nothing Earth shattering has gone on. It's just been a lot of little things that seem to have become overwhelming, and now I find myself wanting to sleep for about 3 days, when in reality I never sleep more than 3 to 4 hours at a time.

Not only have I had the type week where numerous things have happened that caused me to experience every emotion known to man, from frustration to tears, but I have been very vocal about it without thought.

This behavior is somewhat new for me, and can be dangerous, yet seems almost out of my control. I use to be so passive. I kept my mouth shut and did what everyone else expected or needed me to do to avoid any disagreement or conflict, as well as hurt feelings.

I was evidently overly nice, as I discovered one day when my husband and I were walking through Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta. He saw a headstone and said that's what I'm going to put on yours. It said "Went through life merrily doing good."

Well, as flattering as that is, I am afraid it didn't change the need I had for an individual revolt against being too nice.

These days I am so different. Not only can I feel it, but I have actually been told. One night, not long ago my sister in law looked at me and said "You use to be so nice". I will say this made me take pause, and it did bother me...for about a minute....and then I thought ...."Yeah well nice bites."

Nice gets you ran over and disrespected and neglected, if you allow it to go to far. The difference in me isn't that bad in my opinion. It's just that now when I feel like someone does or says something I don't appreciate I make them aware of it.....Immediately.

I suppose I put up with things for so long, that my speaking my mind now, freaks people out a little bit. I'm thinking..."they'll adjust".

I have even recently been called a "witch". Funny thing is, I didn't mind so much...as a matter of a fact I have decided that having a little "bitch edge" to my personality is a positive thing. Don't get me wrong, I still think I'm nice, and I take care of lots of people, but I am now demanding the respect and appreciation that I deserve for it. This goes for my personal and professional life.

Anyway, there's nothing attractive about some soft spoken door mat that's getting walked all over. I have, however, seen more than one man attracted to the "witch factor".

I will say that being more vocal, and letting people know what I'm thinking and feeling has been a wonderful thing. It feels so good in fact that I couldn't go back to the old me if I wanted to. I guess that doesn't matter, however, because I don't want to.

Everyone should have a flip side to nice. So maybe I'll hear the "witch" word in reference to my personality a few more times. Maybe it will be spoken behind my back even more frequently than I hear it.

If it means I'm living my life the way that I want to, with no unnecessary apologies, and doing the things I want to do, then fantastic! Call me a witch. Have at it!

I'll just add an addendum to my prayers at night asking God not to let me get to drunk with power.........

Directionally challenged

I have heard that there are people who have a "natural sense of direction." These people, never, from what I understand, get lost. I am amazed by this phenomenon because to me having that ability is the equivalent of having a super power.

I, as you may have guessed by now, am not one of those people. If I attempt a trip that goes beyond a twenty mile radius from my house I'm as good as lost...guaranteed.

I don't know why I can't process and follow directions. I honestly am a relatively intelligent individual, but I just simply can't do it. The following is an example of just how severe my direction deficit is:

When one of my former students moved to Winder, Ga, I made several trips there to see him. The first one was for his high school graduation. I called and got directions from a friend of mine, who happens to live there.

I was lost before I could get out of Dekalb county and I live in Henry county. For those of you who may not know, these two counties are located next to each other. I got lost, not because the directions my friend gave me were bad, in fact, they were perfect, I just managed to screw them up.

Warning to others: If you are not in the correct lane on I-285, far in advance, you will miss the exit for I-85 north, and end up on Buford Hwy. where everything is written in a foreign language.

Yes, that is exactly what happened to me. I called my friend back, and he was, thank God, able to put me back on track with just a few turns.

When I made it to Winder, the school parking lot was full, so I parked at a church close by and walked to the school stadium. I will say that I was relieved to have arrived on time.

Everything was great until the ceremony ended and I got into my car to leave. I suddenly realized that the school officials and local police were directing traffic out one way, and you guessed it, it was not the way that I had come in.

Panic sat in, because now, not only had it gotten dark, I was being sent down a road to who knows where, all the while thinking in my mind, this is definitely going to be a problem.

I immediately flipped my phone open and called my friend. I explained the situation and he helped me out again, staying on the phone with me until I was back on the interstate and headed in the right direction.

It was 1 a.m. before I got back home. I left Winder at 9:30 p.m. I live about an hour and a half away from there, if that helps to put things in perspective for you on just how bad I am.

The next time I decided to make the Winder trip, I contacted my friend via email, and asked him for new directions, this time using back roads. I wanted to try a new route, because even though, it had been about a month since my last trip, I was still feeling a bit traumatized.

He sent me written directions, and I followed them to the best of my ability. I did make it to Winder, but became lost somewhere down Hwy 53, where I can assure you, that dark means dark. I did the usual phone a friend for help thing , but this time he didn't answer.

I called repeatedly and still no answer. At this point the word panic didn't begin to cover it. I called my husband for help but in my state of alarm I didn't realize that I would actually need to know where I was exactly before he could give me any google map help.

I had no clue where I was. I hung up the phone, took a few deep breaths, and preceded to go up and down Hwy 53 like a carnival duck. I finally kept going in one direction long enough to find a little store where I found three men, who were Winder locals. They were very kind, and able to point me in the right direction. All in all I was lost for about an hour.

Using my same back road directions I have gone to Winder at least 4 other times and managed to come into town on a different road each and every time, making at least 2 other calls to my friend for help.

I am sure that when I let him know I had gotten navigation on my cell phone it was cause for a celebratory event at his house. He is a wonderful and patient man....I know this, because I am sure if he wasn't I would have gotten a recording by now saying this number has been changed to an unpublished number. Lord knows I wouldn't have blamed him.

I'm not sure why I have such a poor sense of direction, but I'm not as concerned as I use to be about it. I mean surely between cell phone navigation, Google maps, and good friends I'll always get where I'm going...if not...I'll just see lots of places I never planned on seeing. I am going to try to stick with day trips whenever I can....Dark like you find on Hwy 53 adds an extra stress factor that a lost person such as myself just doesn't need....

Thank you Danny...My apologies for the annoyance I must have caused you.

MaryJane

My husband was telling me a story today about one of our friends. He said that when our friends daughter came across a picture of him drinking a beer he had to tell her that he was of legal age when he was actually only 17.

I responded by saying at least he was able to get away with that, unlike myself, who thanks to you, had a full report given to my children on my behavior during my teenage years, without my consent.

This conversation occurring today is what led me to write the following:

When I was young, I was very focused on academics and always worried more about doing everything I should be doing, and not getting into trouble, which to tell you the truth, led to my not having much fun.

When I started high school I was 14 years old and in the 10Th grade. I was very focused on the work I had to do to get A's and that sort of thing... until my junior year....

I got my first serious boyfriend. I just knew that I was madly in love. This put things in a whole new light for me. I still made good grades but I became more than ready to add major fun to my daily schedule.

I wanted to spend all the time that I could with him and so he began to come over to my house every day after school. He was a senior and had much more experience than I did in the whole fun department.

I'm not sure how my parents felt about him at first, but once they had gotten to know him , I convinced them to let me started going out on dates with him, even though I was only 15.

My argument was that I had started school at a very young age and I would graduate when I was 16, and be socially ruined for the rest of my life, if they didn't let me date while there was still time.

Now, on to the Maryjane thing... on one of our very first dates he brought out a joint and we smoked it together. I was horrified at first because I was such a little lady and my mother had raised me to behave myself at all times and that certainly included not partaking in illegal substances.

After the first time, however, I began to relax about it and wouldn't you know as soon as I did my boyfriend suddenly became concerned about my well being, and said he no longer wanted me to participate in having that particular type of fun.

I listened to him....for awhile....and then, as luck would have it..... we broke up.

I began spending more time with my friends and the more time I spent with them the more I realized my ex boyfriend had no idea what the definition of fun was.

I had turned 16 by this time and like all teenagers, my friends and I knew all there was to know. On Friday and Saturday nights we put our make up and perfume on, rolled our hair, put on dresses and stilettos, heavy on the lip gloss and hit the door running... we were dangerous.

We were going to bars by the airport like Adams, which later became Cowboys, The Scotch House, and the Limelight in Atlanta. We were drinking and flirting and chasing guys and doing all the things that make mothers proud.

Among my activities with my friends was a revival of the smoking of the occasional funny little cigarettes.

One of my friends just happened to have an older brother with a nightstand drawer containing a scoop, and an ample supply of a substance that when rolled up in a 1.5 could contribute greatly to a good time.

Each and every weekend we helped ourselves and her brother would in turn, see us, and threaten our lives for thievery.

During my wilder days with my friends I met my now husband, who by the way, has never had so much as a tobacco product to his lips.

At any rate, being my friend during this time afforded him the opportunity to learn about all of my "fun" activities which he never seemed to have a problem with at the time.

what I was not thinking about was the fact that he could be storing up this information to use against me later in life, but that is exactly what happened, and use it against me he did.

He had a talk with our children when they became young adults, that they found quite hilarious and entertaining.

He informed them that their mother smoked more than Virginia Slims during her high school days...He also added that his nickname for me was Maryjane...which I might add is actually the way that I am still listed in his cell phone contacts.

My husband not only told our children about my past behavior, he also shared stories of my behavior at the police department where he works..... including the whole Maryjane tag.

I suppose I should be embarrassed that he did that, but all I can think is I hope that they all had fun too. I know of at least one of them that did, because he told me about it. I wish I had known him then, I think we would have had lots of fun together. Talk about a hot mess.

Anyway.....It's my story so I thought that I might as well tell it......especially considering the fact that my husband has already been sharing it like the town crier.

Let me just add that when my husband and I started dating, I stopped running around with my friends as much, and I never smoked another funny little cigarette.

When all was said and done my children laughed it off and made fun of me. Of course, they still occasionally tease me about it and probably always will.....

Do I regret my Shotgun Maryjane days? No...not really...and Maryjane? ...Darlin'....I've been called worse....

Beauty: A Personal Definition

My husband says things to me quite frequently, in a joking manner, about women my age, in association with fading beauty. He never lets an opportunity go by, when he is given the chance, to remind me that I am not so young anymore.

He would certainly say, if you asked, that he is only teasing me, and maybe he is, but he has that sense of humor which contains enough truth to sting a bit at times.

There is a large part of me that wants to be deeply offended and another part that has to admit it is the simple truth. I am getting older.

I have read studies that show my husband is not alone in his thinking. Most men see youth as beauty. I don't necessarily need the reminders, however, and I don't feel like any woman wants to be made to feel that she is basically at a point in her life when she is no longer attractive.

Does knowing this bother me? Yes, but not just on a personal level. It bothers me because I think that beauty is so much more. I think beauty lives in a persons heart and is reflected in their eyes when they smile. I find beauty in almost all people.

I believe that a few things can keep beauty from a person, some of which are; bitterness, cold heartedness, conceit, unkind words spoken about others, and an overall mean spirit.

One of my favorite quotes is by a man named Henry Miller. He said "Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself."

To me any person leading their life in that manner would have a pretty good shot at being beautiful. I find beauty in many different forms.

Beauty to me is seen in a person when they are passionate about life. It can be found in people who show kindness to others . I see it in the eyes of elderly couples that are still in love after years and years of being together who have a connection so deep they truly are one.

I feel like beauty can also be found in great wisdom and moral character. Beauty to me is a simple kindness of the soul.

There are plenty of people in the world that meet the standards of beauty that society has put in place over the years, and I like everyone else can see that type of attractiveness. I just don't think that appearance should be the only factor in determining what constitutes true beauty.

I personally believe that real beauty is so much deeper than that.

I am sure that some people are reading this and thinking she is just saying she feels this way because she is getting older herself, but I have always felt the way that I do about what is attractive in others, even when I was very young.

I have never considered myself to be a physically beautiful woman so age is not really a factor for me in how I feel about beauty now.

My grandmother had a simple saying "pretty is as pretty does." I love this statement because I wholeheartedly agree with it. I realize my way of thinking is not probably the most common, and I know that most of the world will continue to see beauty just as society defines it for them.

For those people, I feel a bit of remorse in that they will never experience true beauty in all of its many facets.....The kind that is seen when you least expect it....and subsequently the moments that take their breath away will be far to rare..

Cellular Addiction

Not so long ago I was fine without a cell phone glued to my person, 24/7. I managed to go through daily life driving a car and leaving home without any way whatsoever to contact another person unless, in case of an emergency, I had to stop at a pay phone.

I managed to have perfectly peaceful rides in the car going from point A to point B. I had nice dinners out in restaurants with my husband without getting a single phone call or text message, and it was probably much nicer that way. I am also sure it was much less rude.

Now, however, I find that we as a society are ridiculously dependent on our cell phones. If I leave my house and suddenly discover that I can't find my phone, I immediately ransack my purse, and when I come up empty my panic begins.

Next, I pat myself down, and when I have no luck there, my anxiety over not having it escalates into full blown panic mode.

I begin to have random thoughts like; what if someone tries to call me?, or I have a flat tire? What if someone is trying to send me a text message and I'm not there to receive it?

I might need to call someone, and not only will I not have my phone, but even if someone let me use their phone, I wouldn't know how to call anyone. I don't know the phone numbers of any of my "contacts". They are all stored in my phone and I have never memorized a single one of them.

I finally decide that the possibilities of my desperately needing my phone are absolutely endless and my anxiety level escalates to an all time high.

The next step for me, after reaching this point, is to began my attempt at rationalizing the entire situation. I start by saying things to myself like; I managed for the first 20 or so years of my life to leave home without the ability to contact another individual during my ride in the car and it was always okay.

I then tell myself that I'll be just fine without it, and that it might just be a more enjoyable ride. Then, I move on to; In fact, my entire day may be more peaceful and relaxing without the interruptions of people calling and texting me all day long about this and that.

During this long conversation with myself I ultimately decide that I can manage for one day without my phone...no big deal. I mean in a real 911 my family could call the school where I work and they would come and get me out of class.

I also know that if I have a flat tire someone would eventually help me, or worse case scenario, it would get extremely late, and one of my family members would need dinner, at which point they would notice that I was missing and form a search party for me. Right?

By this time I have talked myself down from my self-imposed escalated panic and  tell myself, and that of course, I make it through the day without major incident. If truth be told, I usually enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with not having had the phone with me.

Maybe I should "accidentally on purpose" leave my phone at home more often. If I did this often enough, I may even reach the same conclusion about cell phones that my father has.

The last time I was at his house, and his cell phone rang while he and I were talking he looked at me real seriously, and said "I'll tell you what sugar, I'm about ready to take this thing outside and lay it down on my driveway and run over it."

I left his house that day smiling and thinking that he might just be on to something...

The Great Outdoors

I have joked in previous blogs about how I felt about outdoor activities when I was a little girl.

Since I have become an adult, however, my feelings about being outdoors have changed a bit.

There are things about nature that I enjoy now, that I would never have been able to appreciate as a child.

One thing that I enjoy is walking the nature trails in some of the parks and mountains in north Georgia. I haven't done it in a long while, because my husband has no interest in doing it, and I'm afraid to go alone.

I had one fishing experience as a child. I was about eight or nine years old. My Dad bought fishing rods for me and my brothers and sisters, and we all went to the lake.

My dad baited my hook and helped me cast my line out. I was all set. Within ten minutes I realized that I had a fish on my line. I began reeling it in, but as soon as I had a visual on the fish, I stopped reeling and began yelling for my Daddy.

My Dad was a helping my brothers and sisters get ready to fish, but was trying to get to me as quickly as he could. Meanwhile, since I had stopped reeling so soon there was an excess of line for the fish to flip and flop around on.

This caused the line to start swinging and the fish slapped against my thigh....that did it for me. I threw rod, reel, fish and all right into the lake. My Dad arrived just in time to watch it sink.

I think he was upset with me because he couldn't begin to wrap his mind around why I had done something like that. He was, however, able to handle it well.  He just looked at me and said "don't worry about it, sugar.  Go and get a chair and sit down and watch your brothers and sisters."
He was shaking his head as he walked away.

I have since had many successful fishing trips as an adult. Each and every year our class of special needs students goes on a fishing trip that I really enjoy.

I think my attitude has changed because now, I appreciate the beauty of the lake and the peace and quiet that comes with fishing. It doesn't hurt that I've learned that you can fish with shrimp and small pieces of hotdog so that no worms have to be involved.

There are also several partners from the community that help us with our students so when I get lucky and catch a fish, one of the men are always willing to take it off the hook for me. Overall it's always a great day.

I also love being out on the lake in a boat. I love the feeling of the wind combined with the warmth of the sun. I do keep my face out of the sun now all that I can, but being a sun worshiper from way back, I do love the feel of it on my skin.

Another thing that I would enjoy doing would be going on a romantic picnic. The type with wine and a blanket, deep conversation and quiet cuddle time, but as I may have mentioned before my husband would need Merriam Webster's help with the word romantic, so I probably won't be experiencing that any time soon.

One of my very favorite outdoor things to do is go to the beach. I could walk the shoreline indefinitely. I also love being on the beach with a good book and a beverage.

When I sit and listen to the sounds of the ocean waves, and watch them crest one over the other, I am in such awe at its magnitude and beauty, and it brings me such a great opportunity for introspective thought and surrounds me with such a feeling of God and his peace....There really are no words for it.

I'm not sure how anyone could see, hear, and feel the ocean and deny that there is a God.

I have not gotten the opportunity to see just how adventurous I could be on a hiking or camping trip now, because I feel like to be in the woods I need a man with me, and my husband isn't interested in doing either one.

I know that some people may think that my saying that I need a man is a Neanderthal Idea, and are probably getting all Gloria Steinem on me right now for saying it, but they can hit the woods alone if they so desire. I'll take the man.....

I might even be willing to spend one night in a tent.....providing, of course, that the conditions were right and the right man was present...(I have learned a few other things since I've grown up.)

After writing this I've decided that I want to start doing more things outdoors.....Spring is coming, and that is a wonderful time to be outside.... I do realize, however, that I'm either going to have to try to talk my husband into doing more things I want to do, or enlist my friends. I'm going to enjoy spending all that time with my friends...