How do you know me?

Sunday, February 20, 2011

What's new?

I feel guilty most times for feeling sorry for myself when so many are suffering in so many ways. Especially since most of my dilemmas are self inflicted. I know a lot of people with a lot of life altering problems right now; I pray for them constantly. And in spite of my little measly problems (compared to some of theirs), I really am blessed in so many ways. I have a wonderful family and a host of angels that I call my friends, some of which actually qualify as family in my eyes. I don't know where they hide their halos and wings, but I am positive that they have them somewhere. Maybe, like super heroes, they pull them out when necessary and do a quick change in the nearest telephone booth.
I just want all of you to know that I love you very much. I appreciate you standing by me, and your prayers and thoughts, as John and I go through this difficult time. I appreciate your listening to me whine and beg for prayers and thoughts and love. I love each and every one of you. I always will.
Love, forever and a day, Stacey Marie :)

Monday, February 7, 2011

How I came to marry a man older than my daddy -

I began work at Arkansas State Police in August of 1987. I wasn't really a secretary, starting out, I was in what they called The "Typing Pool". I was 17, the youngest they'd ever had there. I actually took a cut in pay until I turned 18, which was ok by me; it was the job that rescued me from the iron grip of my mother. Everyone there either "adopted" me with love or they hated me.

At the interview:
I was scared to death of messing up. I had failed high school typing, and now this was going to be my job. I had prayed the entire 11 miles from home to headquarters that I'd pass that damn typing test, then I failed. A sweet woman named Marvis saw the tears in my eyes and gave me another chance. I prayed again, this time harder. I took the test again. Passed it with flying colors with no mistakes. Believe me... God was there. You will see why in a minute.

After that, I interviewed with a high ranker behind closed doors, and passed in there, I found Marvis and thanked her- I had the job and it was because of her kindness.

I was incredibly timid and shy. I was overwhelmed. After a few months I summoned the courage to ask where the bathroom was. Previously, I just "held it" until I could go home for lunch.

When I finally made a friend, Jackie, she gave me a tour and an education of everyone's dirty secrets. She knew everything about everyone, everywhere, and everyone knew it, so no one, I mean no one, messed with Jackie. I don't know why she chose me to be her friend or "homie", but I was grateful! When the other girls made fun of me or my attire, she jumped right up their asses, no holds barred. She was my friend, advisor, navigator, confidante, and protector. She also introduced me to liquid lunch, and we had some really great lunches! If you know what I mean. ;)

I got promoted to Administration Company Secretary, got my own desk, shared the office with a bunch of undercovers, or plain clothes officers. I wasn't in Jackie's office space anymore but we still had lunch and breaks together, that is when we were actually working. We tended to finish our work super fast so we had lots of time to play.

My Captain one day interrupted a very important conversation between us to tell me that he needed me to go to that Colonel's office to answer phones while the secretary was lunching. I froze. I didn't know anybody's names, so how was I to know if they were there or not??? In fact, Jackie was more suited... She knew everyone! But no! My Captain said they requested me. Deep breath. I was so scared.

I gingerly walked into the Colonel's office and sat in the secretary's chair. A grumpy 50 year old man came out from his office, glasses down on his nose, looking really mean, and said to me, "I don't know who you are or where you came from, but you need to go back there because you are not wanted in here!"

I walked out, crying, straight to my Captain's office and said, "I don't know who that son-of-a-bitch is, but I am NOT going back in there.

A year or so later, they were making a State Police Annual so we all had to have our photos taken. I stood in line with Jackie, I was wearing my tightest white jeans and my coolest shirt, I had my hair and make up perfect, even to the standards of my own vanity. Jackie, social butterfly that she was, was working the line. It was October of 1991.

She came back to me laughing uncontrollably. She said, "Stace that old man wants to get with you." Yes, the one who made me cry, the mean one. She begged me to go out with him. I agreed but there was a condition - she had to go too. Our first date: me, Jackie, and John. Pizza Hut.

John and I were inseparable from then on. We still are. We married in April of 1992, Jackie was a bridesmaid. John was 51 and I was 21.

Now to Marvis, the sweet lady who gave me that job. In the 70's, she had done the same thing I did, really messed up her interview, and someone gave HER a second chance. It was John.

Doesn't God work in mysterious ways?

I never doubt or question that I am where I should be. God has always answered my prayers, He just sometimes takes the scenic route to our answers.

As for now... I am grateful for many things, but I am especially grateful for my old Captain Charlie Bolls (God rest his soul), Marvis, and of course my Jackie. And John, he is my own personal angel, whom I love more than life itself. I just NEVER want to work with or for him ;)

The National Anthem

I have to tell you that I cried once during the National Anthem. Most people hear it all the time, but they don't really listen to it. Some people, not as many as I would like to think, actually know all the words to it. I do. I have since I was a small child. But it wasn't until I was an adult that I really understood it, and the reason that we recite it so often as Americans.

Someone famous recently really messed up the lyrics when singing it in front of millions of people. I don't know if they even knew it at the time, but I am quite sure that they know it now. I don't know whether to be angry or feel sympathy in this matter.

I would like to challenge you to read the words of the National Anthem. Think about the writer's experiences that inspired the song, and put yourself in that moment. Then, think about our soldiers who have fought for our freedom, and the freedom of others, whether you agree with the circumstances of our wars or not.

The National Anthem is our National Anthem for a reason. Think about it.

As for Christina, I still think you are beautiful and smart and funny. I just wish you hadn't messed this one up.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

My cats and their treats :)

I have 2 amazing cats, ages 7 & 9. They are very different, like night and day, but they were raised together by my cousin Tracy. When I was considering getting a cat last year, she sent me pics of the two, and I had to have them both. I couldn't break them up. They love one another so much and I am so grateful I made that decision. I think Tracy and the cats are too, ha :) but I digress...
I have taught these cats to give "kisses" for treats. They freaking love treats and they will do anything I tell them to do; all I have to do is shake that bag. But I am sticking with the "kisses" for now. I have to tell you though, they don't REALLY kiss me. That's disgusting. My male cat just brushes his whiskers against my nose, and my female cat just gets really close and breathes on me like some stalker. It's a little creepy when she wakes me up that way.
I buy Temptations treats made by Whiskas. They don't like any other treats I have found, whether they be more or less expensive. The Temptations treats are about $1.50 or so for 6 ounces, & I buy them by the case because my cats are spoiled little piggies.
Tracy told me when she left them that they eat only one type of cat food and thank God it's really cheap. After a while... I, not knowing a damn thing about animals, decided they should have some variety in their life & try another cat food, maybe switching off from theirs to the new one from time to time so they wouldn't be bored with their food. Yes. I know that was a stupid idea. Cats like what they like and we shouldn't screw with it. I know that now.
So guess what!?! I ran out of treats during the time that John and I had the flu. The cats don't understand that mommy and daddy feel like crap and are not going to the store for treats, and they are not going to ask their friends and family to do it either, lol :) they were super pissed. They cried. Loudly and incessantly. For days.
I knew I could order on and have them in a couple of days. So I did that. And I went into the master bathroom and sat there on the floor with them, trying to console them as they cried and looked up at me as if to say, "how could you let this happen to us?"
In the corner of the room I spotted the 40 pound bag of their unwanted cat food, ironically made by the same company that makes their treats. Hmmmmm. I looked at the pictures on the front of the bag. I looked at the pictures on the front of the treats bag. I read the ingredients of both bags. Freaking Eureka! I shoo-ed the cats out of the room, took the empty treat bag, filled it up with the Whiskas cat food from the 40 pound bag, sealed both bags back up, and waited.
I shook the treat bag now filled with Whiskas cat food. No response. They were really pissed at me now. I shook it again, calling out, "do you want a treat, come give mommy kisses!?!?"
They walked in slowly, looking at each other, then at me, as if to say, "what, she pulled them outta her butt?"
First the female in her deep "I don't give a crap" voice meowed LOUD. No kisses. She won't eat her treats from the floor like the male will and the male won't eat treats from your hand like she will. So I poured the fake treats into my hand, held them to her disapproving face and... She ate it like CANDY. Then she wanted MORE. As I was mentally calculating how much freaking money I had just so brilliantly saved, the male cat is standing there, on his hind feet, trying to reach me for his "kiss" so he could have a treat too! He won't eat treats without his kiss now, he will walk right away from them if you don't "kiss" him first. So I gave him his anxiously awaited "kiss" and put his "treats" in front of him. He thought he was in cat Heaven.
So thank you Whiskas, not only for making great treats my cats love, but also for making the much cheaper cat food that passes for cat treats. At least in our house. You saved me a munch- load of money. ;)

Turns out I have more than one thought per day :)

Lots of days I think of the times I had with my big brother when we were growing up. He was a great big brother most of the time, but sometimes he just plain tortured me.

I must have been 4 or 5 when he decided that he was tired of me being up his butt all the time. He is 3 years older than me, so at the time we didn't have a heck of a lot in common. I just liked being around him. He was awesome. But I think he hated me. LOL ;)

One day he found a very large and long stick and a bandanna, and proceeded to make a hobo-like contraption, using the bandanna, tied to the stick, to make somewhat of a pouch to hold his favorite toy, a GI JOE, a peanut butter sandwich, and a few other things (whatever he had that would fit in the home-made pouch); and he announced to me and my mother that he was running away. When asked why, he just said with a tired voice that he was sick of me following him everywhere he went. Of course I was hysterical. Even more hysterical that my mother seemed unfazed.

I begged him not to go. I promised I would leave him alone if he stayed. He would not change his mind. I cried. I begged some more. I cried some more. He just kept walking, farther and farther away from the house, toward the 2 acres of wooded area behind what we called home. He knew those woods like the back of his hand; we both did. I wondered if I would ever be able to find him. I wondered if he would live in the fort that we had made, except that he wasn't walking toward the fort, he was walking the other way. I cried louder as I watched from the window. My mother just shook her head and let him walk.

He didn't even look back. I couldn't see him from the window anymore. I just knew he was gone forever.
He made it all the way to the beginning of the woods. I cried to my mother (who was doing dishes at the window), "Aren't you going to stop him?" I had a habit of crying until I puked and she knew that. She dropped her dish cloth and yelled out the window, "Bart, get your butt back here RIGHT NOW."

He was mad for days, but he came back. And I was happy.

And even today, if you stand at that same window and look out, you can see where Bart eventually came to build his own house. He lives there now, with his sweet wife and his children. Mom still keeps an eye on him.

She tells me that she knew all along that he was never gonna run away. And he never did. :)

Can You Say Narcissistic?

I've been thinking about doing this blogging thing for a while.  My brother does it and my sister in law does it.  I very much like reading their blogs.  They are very interesting because they both have interesting lives.  But me doing it seems very.... narcissistic. It's because I really don't have a life. Or, I should say, my life is really all about me.  So we will see how this goes.