Category: author moments

anonymous letters, author moments

Hey Ass$&/@!

2chicksandapen

I wrote a post a while back about you. I sat on it for a while. I edited the post multiple times. Each time downplaying the severity of the situation you have created. Finally I deleted the post knowing no person or persons, especially you, were worth my time. 

The time passed. Days, weeks, months, then a year. I was on and off about this dilemma caused by another. Sometimes silently debating the issues. The subject’s actions were questionable and they also gave me the creeps. Add in some environmental conditions and boom their true colors shined. Asshole traits went off like fireworks. They lit up the sky. I was not the only one to see them.

Here I am again revisiting the subject of the same asshole scenario. I’ve been questioning the gut feeling I had to write my story originally and why I didn’t stick to my gut. I was trying to maintain peace. Take the high road. Overall be an adult and a civil one at that.

Unfortunately the asshole that is in my life has grown to the epic asshole level. How sour does one have to be in their own personal life that they need to rain on your happy-go-lucky life? I ask this question of myself a few different ways. It’s inexplicable to me. However this is real life and this asshole is on me like flies on shit. As nasty as that description is, it is realistic.

Unfortunately, you will have to read the book to find out all the nitty gritty shit I’m knee deep in with this epic asshole. Until the book is published and chapter(s) are identified as asshole moments xyz, I would encourage everyone reading this blog to be nice.

Be nice and / or kind to strangers, neighbors, community servants and leaders, family and so on. You never know when you may need a friendly hand in the future and you never know who knows who or who is related to who. Kindness is a best practice in life. It also keeps you from burning bridges.

For those who are just assholes by default, I will say a prayer for you. I also make note that I believe in karma. If you are not a nice person karma will come bite you when you least expect it. And when karma hits it’s normally a doozie.

For now,  I continue to exercise my patience muscles relating to my asshole and the dumb situations he is creating for himself and others near him. I know that one day he will the get the shit storm in his face as payback for all he has been dishing out as a bully. Bullies do exist in adulthood. I can confirm this. I can also confirm an asshole can be lurking in plain sight. Visible daily. Those may even be the worst kind. Some bullies just have too much ego to let shit go when they should.

I, on the other hand, have no problem ghosting somebody. Heck you could live next door to me or work with me and I could easily ignore you. If you are a ghost to me, never expect anything from me. Not a single thing. 

I actually feel better about the fact that I pulled this post out of the dumpster file and put it in relevant. Life isn’t always a bed of roses so now and again I just need to share the shit show moments. 

Just another random post for our diverse audience from around the world. Today’s post is dedicated to curious folks from Canada and the Netherlands who check us out each month. Sending you a virtual wave from the Peach State.

author moments, business

Reading is Wise

2chicksandapen

Reading and comprehension can be overrated at times depending on who you ask. However, reading, simply stated, can be wise.

I remember back in elementary school I was given a test. It was a simple test maybe ten questions. The teacher clearly stated to follow all directions on the paper prior to starting. Being the headline girl that I am, I completed the easy test. At the end it said the test was not necessary had you read the full instructions at the top of the paper.

Silly me! I wasted time. However I learned a valuable lesson that day. Read. Re-read. Comprehend. Pay attention to detail. Skim if you need to, when you need to but never skip the details. The written instructions.

Now, many times in my adult life I have seen people I know build things or assemble things. My favorite is always the one to watch who doesn’t read and ends up with extra screws or parts. Simply reading, evaluating, processing and re-reading could avoid these situations but often times this isn’t what happens. It does however make me giggle at times.

Case in point. I sold a vehicle to a family member recently. The county charges a percentage of fair market value for tax. This can be thousands of dollars based on value of said vehicle.

Fast forward to a line at the registration office. One is waiting. One is observing. One is reading the posted signs that many will see but not read let alone comprehend.

The fine print on one sign notes that if you exchange vehicles from a family member or property is part of a divorce the tax rate is minimal or greatly reduced.  The reading of said sign saved thousands of dollars for my family member. So excited to see this.

Simply reading in this situation was a wise choice. Sometimes comprehension is an issue for some. Understanding how verbiage on a sign may apply. We all can learn from this scenario.

Read.

Research.

Ask questions.

Knowledge is power.

Passing on valuable tidbits of information that can help others is much needed in today’s world. This scenario may not apply in your area of the world but it may spur an opportunity for you to read, review or ask questions relating to laws or ordinances in your area. Or even remind you to fully read instructions when assembling your next big item.

I’m not big on reading fiction but I am a big proponent of reading fine print, directions, signs (especially when in lines), and terms and conditions. The fine print in some contracts can really get you. Maybe even allow seizure of your property if you don’t pay for something like your mooring at the local boat marina. Hint: this is real life for an acquaintance.

These are all lessons for me as well. I did not know this about taxes in my jurisdiction. I maybe learned from a friend’s misfortune. The list goes on. 

Today I learned something new. I am always hungry for knowledge. I am passing on this tidbit to you. Maybe it will be beneficial. Maybe not. Enjoy your day either way.

author moments

Symbols

2chicksandapen

Meaning is hidden everywhere. Places. Signs. Memories. That little park you pass on the way to work every day is the place where someone proposed. It is also the place where some friends had a huge fight. It’s the place where a kid broke her arm and ended up in a cast. Maybe it’s even the place someone first learned to drive, smoke pot, who knows. Countless scenes in countless stories have taken place there. All in the little park you pass each day without thinking.

Meaning, symbols, roadblocks are everywhere. We stumble over the hearts and sometimes heartaches of others without even knowing it.

Music is potent for memories with me. I grew up singing and listening to tunes all the time. Paul Simon, the Statler Brothers, and Dolly Parton on my parents’ 8-track tape deck in our conversion van. Show tunes and standards I belted out with our player piano in the basement. And then the love songs I would pine over each night, wishing in vain someone would dedicate something to me. It took decades for me to listen to the music of Chicago without bristling or quickly switching it off. Even today, there are songs I may never listen to again. Places I may never go. Overly sensitive? Perhaps. After all, it is just a place, a song, who cares?

Maybe I’m just too much. I willingly embrace being labeled sentimental. Someone watching closely may see the quick shadow roll across my face when that potent memory pops up. Most will miss it.

Just part of what makes me me.

For some people, cardinals are a special symbol. A reminder or even a visit from someone departed and dear. A symbol more purposeful than just happenstance…a place you used to go, a song you used to sing to. This is more of a sign. For me, it’s ladybugs. They always pop up at the most unlikely times. They bring me back to myself. A reassurance. A reminder.

Recently, someone new in my life called me ladybug as a nickname. And it stuck. Sometimes when she says it, it makes me smile, sometimes tear up, sometimes just makes me hold my breath an extra beat. She could never have known that ladybugs are so special for me. Just a sign that she has some role to play, a scene to share. A hand reaching out of the day-to-day doldrums to remind me of the bigger picture.

What it all means.

author moments

Playing In the Woods

2chicksandapen

I was in the woods with my dog just checking things out. Its was a dreary day after a lot of rain which led me to the wooded area by my home for a stroll. I opted for the less traveled path on this day. Not sure why, but I’m glad I did.

The pine straw covered ground seemed a little less muddy than the grass.  It seems to have had shelter from the rain due the trees above that created a natural canopy. The smell of rain was in the air and the dog was curious about the the surroundings which intrigued me and maybe sparked my curiosity.

Sniff, sniff. A slight tug on the leash to guide me to a structure. Hidden in the trees, I stumbled across this old shelter that appears to be a dog house or shelter for some type of critter. I wondered what time period this was from? What was the history behind such a creation? So many questions that I will never know the answer to. It was still cool to think about the history.

Just beyond this structure were a couple of dilapidated barns or outbuildings. Again I was curious on their history. Who lived there? When were they built? What were they used for? I took a couple of pictures and used different filters to see how they might have looked some time ago with old photo technology.

Just beyond the trees were some over grown weeds that gave these photos a little mysterious look. I enjoy taking pictures and writing about them. It’s a great opportunity to drift off from today and imagine what was before and how things have changed.

Barns in my suburban area are not so popular which means these are a piece of history. Maybe momentous to somebody. How long will they endure? Will a contractor tear them down? Will somebody want to reclaim the wood for a home project? So many questions.

My normal walk took a little turn. Some might not think a walk in the woods is exciting enough to write about but somedays you stumble across and object or a place that inspires you to share your moment. Your snapshot in time.

My moment today was all about the walk. The stroll in the woods. Listening to the bird chirp. Hearing the drips of rain drops sliding off the tree leaves. The crunching sound of pine straw crackling at your feet. Tree branches snapping back and forth as squirrels jump around which also makes the dog bark. 

Some days it’s about the climb. Some days it’s about the falls. Other days it could be about ignorance. You just never know what’s coming next on this blog. That’s the beauty of writing. It’s an artistic expression that we share with the world now and then. Variety is our spice of life. You get a sampling not an exclusive view. A tidbit of sorts. As our readership grows we know you hear our voices. This inspires us to spread our wings and write for depth.

Enjoy the week.

author moments

Big Bang Theories

2chicksandapen

At the beginning of a race, you might expect to hear a gunshot or even two.

At the shooting range, or on a hunting trip, out in a field in the country, sure. Gunshot makes sense.

But in a Mexican restaurant on a rainy Sunday afternoon in Salem, Virginia? Where we just happened to stop in the middle of a marathon whiplash road trip?

Well, maybe I am naive (ok, definitely), but it wasn’t the first place my mind went when I heard the huge bang with a slight echo. It *was* unusually loud, and I shared glances with a few other guests, but my mind told me it was a huge tray being dropped, which I then told the rest of the table. We kept eating.

One of my daughter’s friends saw the police pull up out the front window a few minutes later. Several officers casually walked back to the restroom area, where a man was seated. They put on gloves.

Many of us started to murmur, to wonder. What was all this about? All the while, we keep eating. More baskets of chips and salsa arrived with the same fanfare as the police walked in. Nothing to see here, or so it seemed.

Next, the ambulance. And then, the firetruck, all with lights flashing.

Again, the EMTs casually rolled the stretcher in. They loaded the man on. His jeans were cut open and he held a towel over his thigh. They rolled him out to the ambulance. He had really shot himself! In the bathroom! In the leg! On accident!

!!!!!

The waiter brought our check. We paid, uncomfortable and astonished. I did an 18-point turn to get out of the parking lot, weaving through the emergency vehicles. We continued on our way.

For the next hour or two as we headed down the road, every once in a while I or one of the others in the car would blurt out a “What if…” comment. What if the gun had been pointing another direction? What if I had gone to the bathroom at that time? What if his injuries had been more serious? What if there had been an argument and he had shot someone else? What if there were more guns in the restaurant?

Even years later now, I am shocked reading this. And today, in early 2021, I spoke with someone who showed me a picture of an acquaintance who had shot himself in the leg just days ago. An experienced and knowledgeable gun owner, he was planning to shoot into the ground but instead he will live with a bullet in his bone.  It could have been much worse.

Be careful out there. You never know who’s packing.