Monday Monday

...feels like Sunday.  Long weekends do that to you.  So many invitations filled HRG's calendar.  Parties everywhere.  Music.  Food.  Friends. Fun.  And that babies, is exactly how it was.  The best gatherings are the last minute, throw together ones aren't they?  This one was.  Food for the soul was served and heartily devoured.  It was, in short, fabulous.  My Goddess knew I needed it.  Big time. 

It's been a grade school sand throwing as of late, frustrating me so much that a mother-may-I-take-another-gianormous-step-backwards request was made and granted. If your always faithful and loving HRG could have anything, anything at all, this would be it:

I'd never want for money
I'd never want for friends
I wouldn't have to make excuses
For the shape that I'm in.

That would be perfect.  I'm tired of having to be almost apologetic for being in shape.  A married woman and all.  And at my age!  What is HRG trying to prove?  If you feel bad about yourself, I will always lend an ear, be your cheerleader and encourage a healthy lifestyle.  I will remind you to judge yourself by your accomplishments, not your dress size. Why instead take your insecurities and throw them at me?  How is it MY fault that you're unhappy with your body?  It's not my fault.  I have nothing to prove.  I am who I am.  It makes me happy, TCB loves the fun and flirty person I used to be before all this silliness began.  Hitting that milestone this year gave my balls back.  I'm tired of trying to hide, tired of trying to melt into the background so as not to upset anyone, tired of dressing down, tired of pushing who I am down.  I've done enough of that in my life.  The people who are my friends, who believe the best in me first, who don't automatically assume I would've said and/or done something horrible simply because someone else told them I did, well babies, they get my time, my attention.  The others simply aren't worth the energy it takes to banish them. 

There is one question to be asked.  I would always believe the best in those allowed close.  I would never think that anyone I call a friend would say or do anything mean or nasty to hurt anyone.  My first thought would be "no, they'd never do that!"  And then I'd get to bottom of it right away.  Why then would you not think the same of me?

Knowing there are people who's only exercise comes from jumping to conclusions and flying off the handle makes me sad babies, it truly does.  But you know, I realize that this is their problem, not mine. I can't fix it for you at my own expense.

I have better things to spend my money on.

Like shoes.

Groovily yours,

HRG

There's A Price To Be Paid For Being Yourself

...and sometimes babies, sad as it can be, it is money well spent.

This year I took control of my life, drew the line in the sand and starting standing up for myself again. Some people have a serious problem with that.  It makes this groovy old heart hurt, in a big way.  But that's ok.  Life can't be sunshine and smiles all the time.  That only happens on sitcoms. (side note:  Chuck Lorre, wtf are you thinking?  Ashton Kutcher?  Seriously?  Put the bong down and please please please rethink this)

I've been trying to come up with the right words, then my play list gave them to me.

So you think you're a winner
But you're losing points with every word you toss
And if you're only human
What gives you the right to be nailin' me up here on your cross?

Couldn't have said it better myself.

HRG

Songs On A Sunday Morning

You know babies, sometimes the only way I can express myself is through music, more specifically, lyrics.  They trigger emotions I try so hard to dismiss.  I'm learning that's not a bad thing. What do you say we have a coffee or two and see where the play list takes us? 

"Time cast a spell on you but you won't forget me
I know I could've loved you but you would not let me
I'll follow you down til the sound of my voice will haunt you
You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you
Was I just a fool?"

My reunion with Krusty, such as it was, was short and sweet.  Playing with him again brought so much out of both of us, and true to form, neither of us had to say a word.  We let the music say everything that had already been said, and everything that hadn't been and needed to be. We make the choices we make, I understand now.  We've come full circle and can be friends again.  I've missed that bantering, the easiness of working together.  Yes, I know it will never be the same, but that's the point.  It's not supposed to be.  What happens remains to be seen, and if anything, it'll be an interesting watch, don't you think?

You'll all have a front row seat.  Isn't that exciting?!

"I have a lover who loves me
How could I break such a heart?
Yet still you beg my attention"

Saw HTBP not long ago.  Happy looks good on him, it truly does.  But babies, when he looked at me, well, the ego feed was fabulous.  And that's all we need to say about that.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, it only hurts when I breathe."

Fear and Doubt moved in, lock, stock and barrel.  "Oh sure" they whisper "he says you can trust him, but can you really?  Look what happened the last time."  It's up to me to come back, let my guard down and toss the unwanted heart guests out on their collective asses.  I think I'm almost there.  The stones around my heart are heavy.

Good thing these groovy old arms are strong, isn't it babies?

HRG

And NOW You Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful?

...seriously? 

Your insecurities are not my fault.  Deal with them.

HRG

The Return of HRG

Hello my babies!  It's been so long since I've been here, I can't help but wonder if any of you even stop by to read these occasional whinings and chest thumpings. I've missed you all, the small handful who read these words, and I hope you've missed me too.

I went away for awhile, but I'm back now.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  So much has gone on over these past few months, some of it too much to share but too much to keep inside.  There's a light on the horizon, and the breeze you feel is me exhaling.  It's a good thing I work this groovy body as hard as I do. It's true that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and well babies, HRG can now bench press 350.  With one hand.

It's been months of good, bad and downright weird.  We have some catching up to do, don't we?  So, I'll dust off my soapbox, clear my throat and get ready to begin again.

It feel so fucking good to be back!

Always yours,

HRG

Once Again I Bit My Tongue

.....so hard it'll need to be surgically re-attached. Good thing I have a surgeon on speed dial, isn't it babies? Here's why his services were required....this time.....

Picture if you will one HRG, broom and dustpan in hand, pondering life, love and the pursuit of happiness when.....

(middle aged man approaches, pauses a moment to inflate his ego and sense of superiority)

man: Good morning. (smiles at HRG)

HRG: (returns smile) Good morning.

man: (eyes broom with a measure of disdain) You know, if you had an education, you could get a real job.

HRG: (quickly looks around, mentally counts witnesses, thinking: You know, if you had a penis, you could be a real man...)

HRG: Yes, it is a gorgeous day, isn't it? (she smiles, looks him in the eye and with the slight lift of the eyebrow, deflates his ego on the spot)

That's how it really happened. It happened just that way. The day HRG socked it to the asshole with the mba.

HRG

You Could Be My Silver Spring

Life has a way of passing you by sometimes, doesn't it babies? Days turn to weeks that turn to months, and you're left wondering where the time went. After all, wasn't it just yesterday that..(insert event here)....

It seems like it was just yesterday that I walked into the Glen Lake Inn and right into the strangeness that was Krusty. Someday I will write the ballad of Nancy and Krusty. Just not now. I have way too many other song lyrics running through this groovy head, it would just end up being a line stolen from each. Of course, if I were to use an auto-tuner and turn it into a rap song....

There I go again, tap dancing around saying what's in my heart. Or why it hurts so much. I don't quite understand it myself. I don't know why hearing a Daughtrey song on the radio had me sobbing in my chair. I don't know why I've listened to Silver Spring so many times my mp3 player actually sighs audibly when I scroll to the song, and the repeat function is suddenly, well, not functional. I'm going to have to start paying royalties to Stevie soon. We were friends, nothing more, nothing less. In my heart I always knew that I would never come first with him. Knowing that really was the reason I kept my feelings in check. My spidey sense was dead on. I felt no spark, no desire, no passion. No matter what you think your feelings are, to live a life never having sex again certainly wasn't in the cards for HRG.

We were Will & Grace. But you know babies, eventually, even they had to let go and move on.

And now he's gone back east to be with his father who is, sadly, not well. I'm glad he's done that, their issues should be resolved before it's too late. I understand why he left.

I just don't understand why he left without saying goodbye.

I just don't understand why it hurts so much.

HRG

Never Under Estimate The Power of "The Eyebrow"

Good Morning babies! Looks like Spring is finally upon us. The sun is peeking out from behind the clouds, TCB is on holidays and we have a whole week to play in the dirt together. It's about time.

Ah, but HRG you ask, why should we never under estimate the power of the Eyebrow?

As you all know, leaving the nastiness of "the mistake" behind as the year and decade ended was done. None of that baggage was brought forward. It was my choice to stay, my choice to fix our marriage. I did this because I do love TCB and he knows what will happen if it ever happens again. He promised no contact with that...that....that....(well, I want to say woman, but you guys are all pretty creative people, so insert your own expletive here) I believed him. You see, I can feel it when she's been in contact. And, yes, I do check his phone, etc. regularly. I may have forgiven him, but we're not to the regained trust stage. Not yet. Still, I was pretty confident that she was banished forever.

Then I walked past the table where his phone was. And there it was, in a letter that was 10 feet tall and flashing. That letter? K. So I turned the phone on. I was right. There it was, a text message from her.

Now, two things could've happened. I could've dragged TCB out of bed by his balls and start yelling, or................

I could reply to the message.

So I did. Twice. The first message was short and to the point. "do not contact me again". That's pretty clear, yes? But I wasn't done. I sent another text that told her I was aware of what had happened and wondered if her husband would be as interested in all the things I have. I could feel her blood run cold. No, I didn't feel bad at all, but I knew (after all what's the good of having this spidey sense if I don't listen to it?) the point had been made. But it wasn't enough. So....a facebook message was sent. I was careful with my words and language. Losing my fb privileges because of that slut wasn't an option. Here was my message:

"Just a brief note to make sure you fully understood the text messages you received yesterday. I'd tell you my opinion of you, but I'm sure you already have a good idea. Would your husband be interested in copies of all the e-mails, messenger history and texts that I have? I bet he would. I may or may not send to him after all, but the beauty is you will never know when or if they'll just land in his lap. If you have any further contact, directly or indirectly, with TCB, I will publish everything I have in a very public place. Do you understand me? Find someone else's husband to screw around with."

Then I blocked her at every turn, opening a dialogue with her was not something I wanted. I know what they did, TCB has admitted it and now she can spend the rest of the year wondering if I actually will do anything with the things I found. I hope it eats her up inside. Then she can know how it feels.

The story has a happy ending (and no not the kind that started all this bullshit in the first place).I do believe she got the message. In glancing through another friend's list I saw she was gone. I checked his wife's list. Gone from there too. Good. She may have realized that she's insignificant and can be brought to her knees with the lift of an eyebrow.

Problem solved.

HRG

No Wonder The World Didn't Know What To Think

......because for seventeen days we, as a country, stepped out of character and allowed ourselves to feel good about excelling at something. We waved our flags high, cheered loud and proud. The naysayers, the Cause For Hire morons will just have to find another cause they know nothing about to take up now, won't they? Like the rest of the world, I suspect they weren't quite ready for the backlash they received. Their message is lost when violence ensues. We're Canadian. We simply will not tolerate it.

Let's focus on the positive, shall we? Good. We won more medals than ever before, we won more Gold medals than any other country in Olympic history. None of our athletes were pulled out for illegal drug use, we won because we were the best. The high marks given by the IOC said it all. Today the world knows what we've always known ourselves.

We are as good as Gold!

HRG

The Art of Letting Go

Good morning my babies! The sun is shining, the air filled with the promise of Spring. For us anyway. Not so much for the rest of the country. Sucks to be them. "Winters" like this are what brought HRG to this idyllic little rock. The urge to get everything in the ground now is strong, but patience is the key. We still get frost in the wee hours, so heavy this morning that the geese were slipping and sliding as they tried to land on the fields. It was funny. At least the gulls circling overhead thought so. Isn't it hilarious to hear birds laughing? A great way to start my day.

So, it's been a year since the store closed. There's a big empty hole where we used to be. It's time to get back out there and fill the in the spaces. Retail has a way of burning you out, and quickly, especially at the upper management level. I was so tired, so fed up with the public and to be blunt, hating old people. Their sense of entitlement never ceases to amaze and disgust me. Haughty attitudes in cheap shoes. More than once I wanted to reach over the counter and just start slapping. Once I actually asked someone if she kissed her grandchildren with that mouth. She'd reduced one of my staff to tears and well babies, that is something that is not acceptable.

Yet, I miss it. I was good at it too. That's something that no one can take away from me. Although some have tried by constantly hitting my knees and trying to pull the rug out from under these groovy feet. I'm tougher and stronger than that.

And really, let's face it, the last person you ever want to fuck with is a Witch.

It's been a grieving process, despite bi-polar man and a staff member or two who tried so hard to make my life miserable. Karma has a way of doling out payback babies, and sometimes it's a bitch, isn't it? The two who tried so hard to destroy me have fallen on hard times. I can't, don't and will never have any sympathy or empathy for them. You reap what you sow. Their fields are black and empty and will stay that way until they learn. They should have figured out by now that if they do want a job, using my name as a reference probably isn't a good thing. Privacy laws don't allow me to tell prospective employers all the reasons these people should never be hired, but I've learned to tap dance around the questions and give honest answers without trashing them. No matter what my feelings are, trashing them makes me look bad, and I do have a business reputation to think about. Say what you want about me (and some certainly do, don't they?), I spent five long years building relationships in a world that to begin with, I didn't think I belonged. I've worked hard to garner the respect I have. It's not something ever taken for granted. It's also a solid gold bargaining chip. I know what I want now, where I want to be and won't stop until I'm there.

So it's time to let go of Entree. I think less and less about the store now, those memories are in a brightly wrapped box, ready to placed neatly with the rest. Every now and again, I do take a box down, open the lid and revisit the happy times. Only the happy ones. The dark times are gone, banished to a place from which they can never return.

Sometimes though, in amongst the happy memories, an unanswered question or two will pop up.
And that's the point (I think) of this post.

Seeing the dynamic duo last weekend reminded me that maybe I hadn't let go of everything to do with them. It's sad to think they're cowards, hiding behind masks of self-righteousness. Ending friendships over who paid for a plane ticket? Pass me a note in gym. That was childish. What was gutless was their choice to dump all over Mystery Mama, thinking she was the weakest link. Horribly hurtful words were fired, every one a bullet, every one aimed at her. I've never been able to understand that. She didn't pay for the ticket. I did. I just didn't realize that permission had to be given first. Bad HRG! Bad HRG!!

So why not use me for target practice instead? Take your shots at the person who's to blame. It's the knowing I wouldn't run for cover, instead I'd grab the bullets out of the air and fire them back that had them taking pot shots at the wrong person. Shame on them.

But you know babies, some questions cannot be answered, sad and frustrating as that may be. Sometimes we have to ask them and then just release them, like balloons. They'll just float away to places unknown. Every now and then we may catch a glimpse of one, far away on the horizon, and for a brief moment, the question will be there. Then, just as suddenly, a breeze will gently push it away, gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the warm yellow colors of the happy memories hidden underneath. Turn your face to the warmth and remember these words:

You cannot move forward with one foot planted firmly in the past.

HRG