Jet To No Where

Help me find out if I am on a Jet To No where…or just on stand by.

Archive for the category “Dreams & Aspirations”

Beautiful Day

It was a beautiful day yesterday. The type of day in which one would get in their car and drive for hours without any destination or hesitation. The type of day that would lead one somewhere they would never have gone before and possibly end up in a strange place with no idea how they got there. I drove around on this beautiful day in my little VW convertible with the top down. The car isn’t much to look at, but it’s so much fun to drive because it’s a standard. The power behind driving a standard can only be felt by people who love driving a standard. Running through the gears….controlling how the caramels is exhilarating. With the top down on days like this, it’s perfect.

Things have fallen off the car such as, tail lights, the the front and back VW emblem’s, The interior leather panels and sometimes the trunk won’t pop open, but only the tail lights have been replaced. The back is covered with stickers, someone worn from the weather….others still in pristine condition. All the tires had to of been replaced at one time or another with used tires, as I do not see the need to purchase brand new tires because a used tire is just as good and cheaper. Most of the time the guys at the place I go to don’t even charge me so I just give them a tip …a very large tip because it restores my faith in the fact that they are still good people out in this world. There is one missing hubcap in which I would explain, but it is not relevant to what I am speaking of now. Most importantly, is mechanically sound and it is paid for.

The stereo is broken so I use a Bluetooth speaker with my iTunes on my phone and I listen to music in traffic. When I listen to music I REALLY listen to it. Everyone says they love music. Music has the ability to transcend time and space. It makes you laugh and it makes you cry. It can make you angry or it can make you serene. Today it made me serene. I needed serenity this morning. I needed much more than serenity.

When I speak of listening to music, I mean listening with such an intent that you have no idea what else is going on around you. You cannot hear anyone talking, You cannot hear the cars driving bye…..you can slightly hear the wind blow if you try, but you shouldn’t try to. If you are really listening to the lyrics, the message, the bass line, the drums, the bongos, the combination of everything and how it come together in such harmony…. when you hear something that is so spectacular that he takes you to another level of consciousness…. that is true genius.

I’ve always wanted to go to Jim Morrison’s grave. It’s on my list of things to do before I die. I suppose everyone has a list like this of some sort, but mine has reasoning and intent behind each and every item on that list. Years ago when I told my significant other at the time that I wanted to go there, I also said I wanted to go alone. He was very angry and confused. I tried to explain to him I did not think you could possibly appreciate the experience as much as I would. He just could not understand that and inevitably I had to lie and say we would go together… knowing I would never do that.

This ties into the idea of how much I love to be alone. I love to go to the beach by myself, drive up and down A1A for miles in each direction and just come back home. I have music and time right now and I’m using all of it to the best of my ability….making the most of all of it. One of the best days I had was with my 10-year-old in traffic. He seemed to be a little down that day, but wouldn’t say why. I didn’t push him but instead, I put on run DMC’s, It’s Tricky. My introverted, sweet little boy knew every single word to that song. I had no idea. Sometimes he is an enigma to me because he is so introverted. But on this day we sat in traffic and drove and listened to that song over and over again……singing all the words together and it was beautiful.

Here is the point that I am trying to convey in a very roundabout way:

There is a lot huge difference between being alone and being lonely. I am not lonely at all, but I do love being alone. I love to be alone with my own thoughts, writings, music, children….Anything one would require a friend or significant other to be with to do, I will do alone with ease and without hesitation. It doesn’t bother me to eat in a restaurant alone. I don’t need someone to go out to see a band at a bar alone…..And I will see Jim Morrison’s grave in the next year or so, alone. It is not lonely when you love what you are doing by yourself. Because in the end you will never be happy with anyone else until you are happy being alone.

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Quote of the Day

“The most intriguing people you will encounter in this life are the people who had insights about you, that you didn’t know about yourself.”

~ Shannon L. Alder

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/kindred-spirits

Quote of the Night

Lessons from a Doomed Marriage

https://www.fatherly.com/love-money/relationships/what-i-learned-marrying-first-person-sex/?utm_campaign=AudDev-30FB-Excluded&utm_medium=PaidSocial&utm_source=Facebook

A great read for anyone with questions on why their marriage did not work out….,

I know my reasons, which may be worse.

I have posted this saying before, but still true…

True Genius Speaks for Itself…

Don’t Believe me Just Watch

Explaining #1

 

There is not one thing that I ever set out to do in my life that I have not accomplished. I may have started later than most, but I got it done. I have a list of shit I need to do before I die…and let’s face it, that may be any moment now by what my cardiologist has been telling me since August. Another time.

What bothers me is the lack of supportive people that are around when one accomplishes something that is great to them. Just because it isn’t what one person would have chosen, doesn’t mean it isn’t exactly what your friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, relative, etc… wanted to do and possibly needed to do. No one needs to view some else’s accomplishments as threats or an attempt to “one up” someone else. More importantly, do not tell someone that they are not any good at what they love to do. That is just a shitty attitude to have toward someone that one is supposed to care about.

Humans are jealous. Everyone wants what their neighbor has. Until they finally realize that their neighbor’s life is a shit show. Why can’t everyone just do what makes them happy and everyone else just nod and say, “Good on Ya!” You know why?

Because no matter what it is that you are doing that people disapprove of,  you finally have to say, “You know what? I’m too old to be listening to what other people think and hanging out with people I don’t like” (Big thanks to my grandfather for that line, RIP). Until that moment, when you REALLY get it, everyone is going to keep shitting on your dreams, aspirations, accomplishments, etc…..and old is relative to your state of mind. Those accomplishments may be insignificant to one, but may mean the whole world to you. Your decision to do what you love and be happy intimidates those who are drudging through life by the status quo. Just because you choose a different path doesn’t mean it’s not the right path….It’s just not the right path for other people.

If people are embarrassed by what you do, then they do not need to be around you. You’re not hurting anyone, right? Then their freak-out is not your problem…it’s theirs. Having the balls to actually do what you want to and not give a shit about what others may think, is complete bliss.

I used to say that I never cared what people thought and that was true for the most part, but was I really being honest with myself?

If I am happy, why does that bother people? I write about many things that most people, a lot of women mostly, would never admit. I am not lying, not hurting anyone, certainly not embarrassing myself, as nothing embarrasses me….so, why is it a problem for people? Why is speaking (well, writing) my mind so horrible. It’s honest and raw. I read so many blogs and I think, wow, finally someone is stating the truth. It doesn’t matter the subject. If everyone was as honest and open with themselves as they claim to be, then why would something that someone else wrote bother them?

Refer back to paragraph # 3. Jealousy and envy. Those are the worst of the seven deadly sins…..and I use the term “sin” loosely, as I don’t believe people as a whole are inherently bad or evil.

I’ve said it before, I lost myself for so very long. I was clouded, gloomy, and sunless. Now I feel as if I’m not just using 10% of my brain….. I’m using it all. I know how to accomplish what I have always wanted to do. I have been told that I never will….

 

Don’t believe, just watch…..

#youcantcomeonmyyacht

 

 

Quote of the Night

Change #2Quotation-Thomas-A-Edison-rules-trying-Meetville-Quotes-191237

“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
― Rob Siltanen

Quote of the Day

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/change

 

She

There were no words ever created by man to describe the hole

Not sadness, nor sorrow, Not heartache, nor hopelessness

Not anguish, Not bleakness, Not grief, nor even woe

Surrounded by people, yet no one heard, no one listened

No One Noticed how desolate it had become, so scorched that

there was no sensation of pain, no consciousness of ache

And even all attempts to speak went right through all thoughtlessness

that the world had become.

A deep empty well with a shredded rope just beyond grasp

Sitting mindlessly watching moving pictures in tubes and thinking of

All that was wanted, just for a moment to be considered

And each night grew longer without the sweet comfort of sleep or rest

which inside grew weary and indifferent.

No pill, nor drink would bring it closer, but only sheer exhaustion

Then collapsing into a blank solitude, longing for a fantasy to escape.

Screaming inside a deserted body, which had grown almost narcoleptic

and neglected to the degree of the simplest of tasks which made a stoic,

Sometimes callous exterior.

Saved so many times before, but no understanding of why and a single night

turned into years in which the acceptance of fate took root.

Inside a blackened room with no doors, no windows, Only 

the sound of hanging lights creaking above and the trace of rust in the air

All while walking over shards of broken bulbs that used to illuminate

Her.

Twas’ the Night Before Christmas….

It happened last night. It was inevitable. I knew it was coming, like murky grey clouds hanging over my house….the electric smell of a storm brewing. I had avoided it for almost a year. I kept thinking to myself….just one more year, a little more time, I am just not ready yet. We were sitting outside on the balcony. I inhaled a long drag off of my P-Funk and blew it away from him, as always when he would come out with me. The smoke just hung in the air like those cartoon bubbles above characters heads….just waiting for the silence to break. Then he asked….

“Mom….is Santa Claus real?”

I stopped breathing for a second or five…all possible answers flew through my head like a swarm of locusts on a crop.

“What do your friends say about it?”, I questioned back quicker than I thought.

“They said he isn’t real…that your parents do everything…so do all the kids in my class.”, he responded. He was matter of fact. Just as if he were telling me what time it was.

“What do you believe?”, I quietly said.

“I think he’s real.”…..And there it was. The answer I didn’t want to hear. He is going to be nine years old in exactly one month. I found out when I was about seven or so. Now what? I was so happy I squeaked by last year with answers like, “Do you think I want to stay up all night and put presents together?”….”Why would you think I would do all of that…I’m tired.” I refer to myself in the singular only because in the past eight years there had not been one Christmas Eve where Ted had been awake long enough to do it all. I was Santa all these years.

Jake is extremely mature for an eight year old. People don’t give him enough credit for how smart he is or for how much of the real world he does understand. He’s in third grade, reading at a fifth grade level….and a math genius. How do you lie to a genius?

So I did the dirty deed.

I explained it all. Santa…St. Nicholas…why people created the fantasy of such a person. A person with incredible influence and power over children. How does a child get over the fact that it is all a lie?

A lie is something you tell someone to hurt them. A lie is meant to be cruel….the fantasy of Santa is not a lie….it is a way of making children understand the concept of giving. It helps them to understand how to treat one another….how lucky we are and how unfortunate others may be. It is the reason we feed the hungry, house the homeless and drop our change and dollars into those red buckets every year outside of Wal-Mart.

He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t sad. He asked one question. “Well, if Santa and Mrs. Claus aren’t real, then who I was talking to on the phone last year wasn’t real?”

Ummm…yea….here we go…..

“Well, they were real people, just not Santa and Mrs. Claus.”, I answered.

“Then who were they?”, he asked.

“Your aunt and uncle.”, I said timidly.

“So, they lied to me.”, he responded…so quickly and with a shred of anger.

I proceeded to explain how it wasn’t really considered a lie, as it was not meant to hurt him in any way. It was merely meant to keep up with the illusion of the Santa myth. (I didn’t say that part ver batim….I skirted around that one as much as possible). At this moment,  Ted came in from walking the dog. I proceeded to tell him the entire story. He didn’t react as I expected. He was extremely angry that I didn’t “consult” him before telling Jake the truth about Santa. Really?

I mean fucking REALLY?

Three months ago Jake asked the sex question. I “consulted” him on that one and he proceeded to simply say….”Oh no, you got this one.” and threw his hands in the air. So I took it and with the maturity that Jake has, he handled it just fine, matter of fact, not really even surprised at all. He just said, “Oh, ok”, and shrugged his shoulders.

Ted was so enraged about this life altering decision I had made that he went on and on for over an hour. I defended myself, Jake told him to knock it off…that he was just fine and to “get over it”, which I found completely hysterical.

After Jake fell asleep and Owen was bathed and finally in la-la land too, I proceeded to give Ted the silent treatment. For someone who says that I talk too much and to leave him alone during an argument, he cannot stand the silent treatment. It kills him. He tries any and everything to get me to give him some sort of response…none of it worked.

About 11:00 PM, Ted got up to go to bed. I simply said, “Ted, if it will make you feel better, I’ll give you the Easter Bunny and the fucking Tooth Fairy…..ok?”

 

 

How Do You Measure A Person’s Success?

How does one measure a person’s success?

I have known many wealthy individuals who have worked themselves almost to death and for what? A bigger house. A nicer car, designer clothes, more vacations and hair by Fredric Fekkai….why are all these things so important? Do they really measure a person’s worth? Do they calculate their success or value as a human being?

I knew a woman once that would give you the shirt off of her back…knowing it was her last shirt and never bring it up in a conversation again. She had ruined her credit, had no vehicle or home and was virtually broke. I also know a man who has earned a lot of money, helped his family members when he could, but was quick to use it against them in the future. Yes, this man worked long, hard hours. He was rarely home and saw little of his children. He had everything he ever wanted, but there was always something lacking…. something more…something better to buy…something more expensive or trendier to obtain. So he kept working way beyond what should have been his retirement age.

Now, this woman died penniless, but with all of her friends and family surrounding her.

This man is still alive. He has a strained relationship with one of his children. He lives under constant stress and is still striving to obtain “the American Dream.” Most people would agree that he has already achieved it, but not in his mind. He has to have more…has to keep up with the lifestyle he has made for he and his wife. I don’t discount for one second all the hard work he has done to have this level of success…but is it really success?

I have shitty credit. It’s my own fault. I made huge mistakes and now I am paying for them. I don’t own a home right now. I rent a really great two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. This is where I am right now in my life and I am taking steps to change my life. Not only monetarily, but spiritually as well. I am truly happy with my life right now. It has improved greatly from over a year ago and my husband and I are doing more to insure that our family will always be comfortable.

Now….am I successful? In one respect, no, as my credit is shot and some months are harder than others with the bills. On the other hand, yes. I am in a much better place than last year. I am healthier, my kids are happy and my husband is much more relaxed. We have improved our lives 100% in the last year, but we are by no means wealthy. Does this mean I am not successful? Do I have to be Donald Trump to be a success? Is the measure of ones success based solely on their economic status?

Is it so horrible to die broke? I really don’t plan on that happening, but if I do, does it mean I died with nothing to show for it? My children are always well cared for. They have everything they want and need and more. We do things as a family all the time. No…we don’t go on elaborate vacations to exotic destinations, but we go to Disney-world or Universal Studios for the day every few months. We go to the park and the beach. I spend almost every day at the pool with my kids and their friends. My oldest has sleep-overs constantly and my house has become the Kool-Aid House. I write every day, which is what I love doing. I have friends that I talk to every day. But most importantly, my husband loves me and I love him. We have had some of the hardest times one can imagine, but we got through them.  We have both made mistakes, but we worked them out. We will be married 11 years on August 31st. He is the only man in my entire life that has never disappointed me.

Some would define our life as average….some below average.

Why is it so important to be wealthy and powerful to be considered successful? Does it not count to have a loving family and friends living a less than middle class life? The middle class has been totally screwed lately, but they continue to pick themselves up, brush off and start over.

I was middle class once. I screwed it all up. I am below middle class right now. I don’t plan to live paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life….who does? But life happens and people screw up. What else are we supposed to do? I could drop into a deep depression, make my kids miserable, ruin my marriage and really make my life a royal fuck up. But I am choosing to pick myself up, brush off and start all over again….with the help of my husband. We did it before…we will do it again.

 I would say that sounds pretty successful.

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