Computer Updates and back to Kvetching, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

My computer did massive updates and now my Printshop won't work. I'll have to reload it. When I have time to feel the frustration of things not loading properly.

I've never been called pretty, but no one wants to hear it.

So I'll put it here. In the navy we girls went to a dance. Everyone at my table was picked to dance, except me. I finally got up and left. Humiliating.

When I first started dating my husband, some guy confronted me and told me you should have seen his previous girlfriend, she was so beautiful. Insult. And what was the point?

Once cruising with my friends as a teen, a guy ran up to our car and said he liked all my friends, but didn't know about me. Not like he was any prize. More insults.

Why do people have to keep pointing out that I'm not pretty? I'll never understand it. I have value even without the superficialness of pretty on the outside.

Beauty is an unearned privilege. A good, intelligent person should matter, too.

Here's me with my still best friend, tall and lanky. About ten, maybe

Okay, got that off my chest.

Oh, wait, elementary school. A girl told me I reminded her of her friend. When the friend heard it, she said to me, "please don't tell anyone."

Bitch.

I wish I'd had the witty comebacks I needed for all these times.

I need a pause button, as in I can't believe you said that, what is my witty comeback?

I see pics of me in high school, and I think I looked just fine. I'm second from the right in this picture.

That's the rant for the day.

Husbands, Are They there for you or Not?

 I married at 21, in Greece. It was his second marriage. My first. I had no intention of joining the navy to find a husband. I wanted to travel. But shit happens. I was in lust and love.

                                                           Cape Souno, Greece

I had two sons, we lived in Puerto Rico then he reenlisted and we were stationed in San Diego.
He went to sea and I raised my sons alone. I had good girlfriends to chat and have lunch with; they got me through it.

We were then stationed in Stockton, which is half way between San Francisco and Sacramento. I grew up in the Bay Area and wanted to be close to my parents. But that didn't work out. (see previous blog post)

My husband partied with his work friends and left me out. Then one day he said he didn't love me and perhaps never had. Wow, talk about a kick in the gut. The boys were young. I almost returned to San Diego at a girlfriend's request. But we patched things up. Still, I never trusted him fully after that.

He's moody, and doesn't share much. He got diabetes, I got MS. Then he had heart blockage. I thought we'd muddle through it all.

Now, in the year of 2020 and Covid19, we have two lovely granddaughters, isn't it time to pull together? You said you loved me; I thought you loved me.

                                Husband and me in front of the base in Nea Makri on 2019 trip

He's moody again, goes on long errands, and we seldom have sex. What is going on? If I ask, he's cold and clipped in his replies. He denies anything is wrong. I'm left hanging. 

We're patched up again, but only because I demanded he change his mood. I never know when the next 'episode' will happen.

Yes, I'm venting but that's what I created this site for. It's my on-line, gotta bitch, diary.

My website about my books and nothing to do with this blog: Dianescottlewis

The Fricking Fun of Family

Family, the ones you're supposed to count on, they stab the deepest. I grew up in a good family, my parents were loving, my brother and I fought like cats and dogs, but protected one another. As soon as I left home, it was like "Good riddance, don't let the door hit you in the ass." WTF? I never understood this evil shift in attitude. What had I done? 

My brother's death was a secret my mom kept and since I lived in Puerto Rico, I was totally ignorant. My grandmother finally told me he was on heroin. I'd lost my only sibling. Scott. When I asked my mom why she never let me know, vague excuses was all I got. I was heartbroken.

We traveled all over with my husband in the navy but were finally able to move close to my parents when my sons were young. I thought we'd have family dinners, picnics, but I was so wrong. They acted like they couldn't care less about us being near them. Not once did they come up to visit. We left and went to Guam and never said a word. I didn't think they'd notice. Then my best friend kept sending letters telling me I needed to let them know where I'd gone.

Me and my best friend at ten and twelve. We're still in touch!

Finally I wrote, my dad wrote back, apologizing...in a way. When we returned to the states, we made up. But as soon as we moved across the U.S. and asked them to come visit, I got nothing but excuses. I also asked my husband's family, now only a few states away to visit, but they never did either. I must have done something terrible to have relatives that never cared.

My dad is gone and I've tried to forge a close relationship with my mother. She is a bitter woman and takes it out on me.

My youngest son married and moved away. My husband retired and my daughter-in-law said why  don't we move up near them. Finally a family. But that all changed. Her father suddenly died and her mother freaked out. Her mom came to live near them. I thought, fine, we'll all be a family.

Again I was wrong. The mother wanted all the attention. We were pushed to the fringe. I hardly get to see my granddaughters. It's painful. I tried to explain this to my DIL, but she got upset-at me! My son just shrugs and goes along with his wife. More family angst.

Here's my grandgirls, In the Year of Covid, 2020; but I have no idea how to add a caption in this fun New Blogger.

I know I'm not alone in these issues. I have a dear friend whose father hated her from the moment she was born, a tough road to travel. Her sons care more for the father who deserted them than for her, and she's facing a terrible disease.

Another dear friend had a mother who treated her like crap and she was devastated. I grew up with a family across the street of several sisters. They fought, but stuck up for one another. Now the three I was closest to don't even speak, and two live in the same apartment complex. Sad.

Another friend left her job and traveled thousands of miles to help her sister take care of their mom. The sister ended up throwing my friend out and leaving her to fend for herself. They'd once been very close.

These people who are so close to their family have no idea how lucky they are. I wish they'd adopt me.

And WHY did they have to change Blogger? It's so un-user friendly, it's impossible to navigate. Okay, that was not part of the theme.

Here's info on me if we're not related and you actually might care (wink):

 Diane Scott Lewis

 

 

Can I be Honest?

Why do people jump on you for making comments that they call complaints? They want everything Sunshine and Lollipops, instead of discussing what is really happening. Or they just want to dismiss you altogether. All I want is a voice.

My mother wanted me to 'shade' everything so she could continue wearing her Rose-colored glasses. As a result, we had no heart to heart talks and I had no emotional support. But Mom is another post for the future.

Don't people understand that they're selfish if they don't allow their loved ones to unburden? I don't care if people unburden to me. I encourage them to, because I know how it is to be Cut Down for saying the unvarnished truth. Sometimes we just need to vent. We need someone to understand our pain, and give a pat on the back. I promise one in return.

Men are especially bad about this. They can tease and ridicule, but don't you dare speak the truth back. You're a bitch for being open and honest.

I used to love the late comedian, Joan Rivers, who'd say "Can we talk?" Then she'd spew out hilarious comments on the current events or daily life. Some would call it vitriol, but I loved it. "Am I wrong?!"

I always seem to be a member of this club:

Those sensitive souls (I say with gritted teeth) want to live in the clouds and ignore how anyone else feels.

I like my old girlfriends, we knew how to vent! Then we'd laugh and hug, too. You can do both. No hiding under the veneer of perfection and lies. Give your friends, and me, an outlet to vent! It's cathartic.
We also giggle, talk of movies, books, and our youthful indiscretions and peccadillos. We do it all!
Let's tongue-in-cheek, rail at the world, then hug tightly, and feel the love and support.

Diane Parkinson writing as Diane Scott Lewis lives in Western PA (under duress) It's damned cold there.
Her website about her books and nothing to do with this blog: DianeScottLewis