The Story of Obstinate

Sit down children and let me draw you a story with my words. There once was a beautiful Princess lost in the woods….

Just kidding, this isn’t that kind of story. This is the Story of Obstinate and how I came to be.

Many years ago I had a friend, a best friend I thought at the time. I did everything with this friend. We went to doctor’s appointments together, we raised our children together, we spent every holiday together, we played video games together, we even vacationed together, and every single night for 17 years this friend ate dinner at my table.

My husband and I decided to take a vacation in the fall this particular year, in the mountains. We asked our friend if he’d like to join us. He said of course! I booked our cabins and we packed up our ATV’s and we headed out for a long weekend.

We were probably only about 2 hours into our road trip portion of the super fun vacation when my friend did something he’d always done in the years I’d known him. He attempted to make me feel inferior to him. Usually I could take it in good fun and blow it off but in this particular moment I’d had a bit of a headache and decided it was time for him to finally admit that I was smarter than he was. I’d always been obtuse. I had never shied away from being mouthy, but now it was time for me to back up my bravado.

We argued over something pretty silly and I could tell my husband was getting a bit uncomfortable because he knew I was shamelessly leading my friend into a corner he couldn’t get out of. My husband has always known the scope of my education and intelligence, especially in times when I’m on fire. So I argued for the sake of winning and finally this friend told me that he didn’t think I was intelligent, he said he thought I was a Dumb Cunt. I corrected him and told him I wasn’t a cunt, I was being Obstinate.

He laughed and exclaimed loudly, “oh shit, see you have to make up fucking words to try and win an argument with me!” I told him in perfect calm that Obstinate was a word in the English Dictionary and he’d be wise to try and use it more often. He vehemently disagreed with much name calling and in general just trying to put me down. Even my husband tried to intervene and let him know it was in fact a real word. This friend just wouldn’t have it, he couldn’t face his truth in that moment that not only had I won the argument but I had proven to him once and for all my superiority in this friendship.

Some hours later during a horrendous thunderstorm somewhere in West Virginia my husband was grilling steaks in a small covered lodge next to our cabin. This good friend came out and sat down at a picnic table with his cell phone and after browsing Merriam-Webster Dictionary for a short while he looked at me. I knew it galled him. I could see it on his face. I knew he was angry at me and he should have been angry with himself for constantly over the years underestimating me and trying to keep me as some idea he had created in his head.

He turned away from me and said “so I guess now I”ll just call you an Obstinate Dumb Cunt.” I let him laugh it off that night but I knew something integral had changed in our friendship and would never be the same. You see, I’m attracted intrinsically to perspicacity in others. I lose interest quickly and tend to wilt visibly with the thought of mundane interactions. This is probably why my husband has been able to hold my interest for so long, he has a very high IQ and tends to keep himself educated on all issues be it music, books, politics, entertainment, etc. He seems to be the only person I actually seek out on a regular basis for a real conversation and he never disappoints me. The best thing about my husband is that when we have a discussion about anything at all, even if he thinks what I say might not be fact, he’ll look it up before he leaps. He doesn’t think I’m Obstinate at all but he laughs at the reference because he knows all the other words that can be used in it’s place, the same as I do, real ones, words.

I know words, I have always made it my business to know words and their meanings. I use words the right way every day and not just plain words, big words and I know it pisses people off and I don’t care, so maybe I am Obstinate, Adamant, Pertinacious, Unmovable, Refractory, Unflinching, Pigheaded, ha!

I feel like when people consistently use simple words to describe things and feelings they contribute to the “dumbing down” of society and that makes me incredibly sad. We have a plethora of beautiful, educational tools to boost our intelligence at the tips of our fingers, yet most of you are perfectly gratified using text abbreviations and emojis. You are contributing to making our children deficient.

That is the story of Obstinate, we did not all live happily ever after together. I now surround myself with people who appreciate intelligence and who help me see that I don’t have to pretend to be half-witted to have real lasting friendships. If you’d like to know more about me, check out the About Me page.

Obstinate xoxo

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Pieces

Do you know?

Do you know he carries torn pieces of me with him?

Do you know he tore those pieces from me to carry with him always?

Do you know that he gives those torn pieces of me to you when he thinks of me while he’s with you?

Every hello, a piece. Every laugh, a pieces. Every song, a piece. Every book, a piece, Every movie, a piece. Every star, a piece. Every tear, a piece. Every smile, a piece. Every dinner, a piece. Every walk, a piece. Every nap, a piece. Every beer, a piece. Every haircut, a piece. Every ball thrown for the dog, a piece. Every kiss, a piece, Every goodbye, a piece. All of these pieces he tore from me to keep with him in hopes of always have a connection, a way back, absolution, mercy, grace.

He’ll never be able to tell you how much he loved me. He’ll never tell you about the songs he sang to me. He’ll never tell you about the dinners he made me. He’ll never tell you about the jewelry he bought me. He’ll never tell you about the secrets he told me. He’ll never tell you that the look in his eyes is because my favorite restaurant is also your favorite restaurant. He’ll never tell you about the children he raised with me. He’ll never tell you he misses me. He’ll never tell you he stole those pieces from me.

He breaks a little every time one of those tiny pieces slip out of his pocket and flickers in the soft breeze. He is fractured because he realizes now that he doesn’t have enough to make you into his vision of me anymore. He’s seared through too many of those pieces.

He could have taken all of me had I allowed it and you would still be just a poor man’s version of me because he never deserved me but oh, he deserves you, every single piece.

Patton Oswalt

I had the immense pleasure of attending a show featuring Patton Oswalt last night, February 24, 2017, at the Palace Theater in Columbus, Ohio.

Let me preface this review by saying my husband and I enjoy Patton Oswalt and his brand of comedy on all levels. He makes us laugh about life. He is relevant and relatable to I think the true “forgotten” Americans in the U.S.A. I’ve always enjoyed his views on life in general through his comedy and any time I’ve seen him in movies or television shows I’ve been impressed with his level of professionalism.

I suggested getting tickets for this event the first day they went on sale because well, it would be a great “late” Valentine’s Day date and also because I just wanted to go somewhere with a shitload of fellow Liberals and laugh for a few hours about just how fucked up things have gotten. This show was on point with exactly what I needed and I left feeling completely fulfilled.

I remember I was in Las Vegas with my husband last October. Sadly, we made the mistake of going with some true Trumper in-laws. Oh, and top off that shit pie, we went the week of the final Presidential Candidate Debate between Hillary Clinton and Rapey Cheeto held at UNLV. Our hotel, literally on the same block as UNLV. Secret Service closed down all routes to our hotel for basically the entire day. To make up for it, my husband and I got tickets at the MGM the next night to see Sarah Silverman. Our in-laws wanted desperately to join us. That turned in to a big hell no. There is no awkwardness quite like the kind you have when you have to explain to a couple of conservative right wing ass clowns the comedy of Sarah Silverman and why they would not have a good time (more like we didn’t want them to bring down our vibe but whatever).

Enough of that shit show though and on to my review of last night’s show. A classically trained violinist from Dayton, Ohio named Kristen Lundberg opened the show. I immediately felt safe and secure with her when she announced her frizzy, curly, riotous hair was all natural baby. I had just spent 2 hours and $100 at a salon in Newark, Ohio getting my own frizzy, riotous curls beaten into submission for this show. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever considered playing the violin, short fingernails, and butt hole play in the same sentence but she made it work. I think she’s someone to watch for in the future. She struck me as kind of like an angry, unvarnished, Emma Stone. She’s just as cute but then that mouth….so refreshing. I could definitely see her in an evil twin movie with Emma.

Since I sat in the front row right in front of the stool and microphone with my gorgeous bearded husband I was enraptured for the entire show. Mr. Oswalt wasted no time getting to work. He makes it look flawless even though he was trying new material for an upcoming taped major network special (I believe I read that somewhere recently).

He began the show by coming up and saying “holy shit guys have you seen Twitter? I can’t believe this shit, it’s bad.” The entire 4,000 room audience was in unison thinking “what the fuck did this Rapey Ape do now?” You could feel it, total silence. Patton started laughing and said basically he was kidding but it was a massive demonstration of just how fucked up things have gotten that none of us doubted our President had done something else completely fucked in the time it took to get to our seats.

I kept telling my husband in the weeks before the show that I knew Patton was anti-Trump and not afraid to speak about it and I loved this about him. This is one of the biggest reasons I wanted to see the show. I wanted to go somewhere and hear others openly rake this freak over the coals as I have done for the last year and actually make me laugh until I cried about it. What I didn’t count on, what I didn’t expect, is that I would laugh harder and longer at his every day life jokes. But I did. I just needed the release of it. He does this series of jokes about a lazy blow job that I think every single woman (or even just anyone who’s had or given a blow job) has experienced step by step. It made me weak. To hear 4,000 people laughing about a common thread is unifying, this to me, is more Patriotic than any flag waving “God Bless America” singing evangelist could ever hope to accomplish.

He made me laugh until I cried, my cheeks hurt on then entire 40 minute ride home. He also paved way to a very serious, deep discussion between my husband and I about his soul crushing sadness and the honesty in his comedy. He leaves a lot of pieces of himself on stage. He makes you see his heart. We spoke about our love (27 years), we spoke about loss, gray areas, our atheism, and empathy versus sympathy and why neither are helpful sometimes. Patton Oswalt has a well of emotion and he shares just enough that you know he’s not some vapid cunt who made it one day and is just doing it for the $$, the lolz, or the fame. I would say with total sincerity that if you don’t know who he is, find out now.

Throughout the evening he went down the line of the front row and asked questions of each of us and I got to tell him about my blog. I decided I couldn’t in good conscience not write a review of the show. I felt so embarrassed to tell him about my blog and my writing. I mean I used to work for an organization teaching at risk youth life skills, drug prevention, and service to our nation. I knew he’d laugh though about the name of it, and he did! Patton Oswalt called me a CUNT ha ha, it has made this whole election mess a little tiny bit less heartbreaking for me. He made fun of my husband’s beard, I feel vindicated!

I can’t thank Patton Oswalt enough for last night. He has given me back my laughter. The crowd, you 4,000 people who showed up last night were beautiful, funny, easygoing people who just wanted a good time, thank you, you classy fucks. OHIO the Heart Of It All! My husband, you bearded steelworker lumberjack! You are my soul, you always anticipate what I need and just do it for me. Oh and whomever was smoking weed in the balcony? Thank YOU for the contact high, next time bring enough to share with the rest of the class, amirite?!

P.S. Patton, if you read this, Cancer is a Pussy but Pussy Cancer can be funny, just look at our President’s face.

Decency

As many of you know, after the 2016 Presidential Election, I cut a lot of people out of my life. These people supported a man for our highest office, a decision-maker for all our lives. This man has proven time and again to be a narcissist, a bigot, a sexual abuser, a misogynist, a racist, and in general a despicable person. I said at that start that your vote for him was a test of your decency and you failed. I said at the start that I could not allow myself to continue to pretend like we were friends because I knew deep down you were okay with who this person was and in fact you supported it because deep down, you were like him.

This was in some cases, heartbreaking for me. I cut out people who I genuinely enjoyed or was just beginning to think had turned a corner. I had to make a choice for me though. Many other people around me have tried to justify these supporters actions. They’ve tried to change my mind. “Oh give the President a chance, give your family a chance, give your friends a chance”, they all said, “they’re good people, they’re not racist, misogynist, abusers.”

Indiana State Senator Jack E. Sandlin shared a meme on Facebook in America the day of the Women’s March on Saturday. It showed 500,000 women marching in his home state with the words “In one day, Trump got more fat women out walking than Michelle Obama did in 8 years.”

This meme was also shared and laughed about uproarishly by my own brother-in-law. My husband’s nephew even liked it, giving praise for it on my brother-in-law’s Facebook page.  Several friends and family members texted me to express outrage over it.

This nephew is someone I actually grew up with. I’ve known him since I was 9 years old. the fact that he has participated in this abusive behavior has quite honestly broken my heart. We went to school together, his sister (my niece) was my closest friend. We went roller skating together. Our moms were friends. We ate at each other’s houses. We did homework together. I watched his own mother abuse him and stood by him as a good, close friend. I met him even before I met my husband 27 years ago. He has watched me struggle with depression over my weight for 30 years. He has watched me cry and held my hand when I had bad memories of a childhood rape.

My brother-in-law I knew was a douche bag. I’ve tried and tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but he continually shows me the worst of him. My nephew though, we’re about the same age, I married his uncle who is very close to his own age. I guess the new President has given people like this a free pass to say and do what their most inner deplorable says is okay. I’m so incredibly sad tonight.

What’s worse is another Senator from Nebraska, Bill Kintner shared a picture of women marching in his state with the words he wrote himself “Ladies I think you’re safe, you’re not attractive enough to be sexually assaulted. Old Bill is actually going in front of a committee to decide if he should be fired or not (as if it’s even a question), but on the other side a man who said it’s okay to sexually assault women by “grabbing them by the pussy” was elected President. Seems totally legit.

Is this really what we’ve become? Is this the new normal for women in AMERICA?

Michelle Obama said “every girl, every woman has been a victim of abuse in some form.” Every woman has had a man either touch her inappropriately sexually, call her a bitch-whore-slut-cunt, pass her over for a job, made comments about her appearance, hit her, etc. Every single woman at some point in her life has been discriminated against by a man, every single one at some point in her life. Every single woman has been abused on some level by a man. Not a single woman has walked this earth unscathed. What does that say about our society? We lead the Free World and yet every single woman in our country, in the world has been a victim of abuse by a man.

My story is not uncommon. I was raped in foster care when I was five. I have a horribly contentious relationship with my own mother. I’ve struggled with depression, anxiety, chronic pain, and obesity since my rape. I got incredibly lucky though. I met the kindest boy when I was 13. I told him everything about myself immediately and he didn’t care. He didn’t care that I was damaged. He didn’t care that I was fat. He didn’t care that I had unruly naturally curly hair. He didn’t care that I have pale white skin that never tans and tons of freckles. He didn’t care that I have scars inside and out. He cared that I was smarter than I was pretty.  He cared that I was kinder than I was thin. He cared about making me happy again. He cared about being the only man in my life besides my father who made me feel whole.

At 39 years old I have recently lost 55 lbs and I still have a bit to go but I know, this man who’s loved me unconditionally for 27 years would be with me if I lost it or not, so it’s finally for me. But now I know how my brother-in-law feels about me, about my sister-in-law Jen, my niece Jewels, my niece Kat, about any other fat women he sees.  To him, I am less than. To him I have no worth. To him I deserve to be mocked and ridiculed. To him I am not entitled to basic human rights.

I should have known he had no respect for me as a person anyway, I mean I see the way he treats his own wife. I would though especially like to take note that there were hundreds of thousands of men who Marched this past Saturday but I’ve not seen a single meme or mention of anything negative about those men. So it’s only funny when you can pick apart a female for her appearance.

I have a theory about conservative men, their bibles have turned them into prom night dumpster babies who treat women like objects, possessions. These men are not gentlemen. They do not respect women. Christ, they barely respect each other. (tangent over)

I feel awful and have been continually crying, tears, over this. I didn’t go to the March with my friends and sisters this past Saturday even though I have my Pussy Hat! My husband asked me not to go to any protests, he said he worried I’d be hurt. I respected that, but now, I feel like I’ve given these two men (through marriage) a free pass to berate and abuse women for no reason.  For anyone who had a problem with these people marching I’d like to make a few points. 1) America was founded because of a protest that developed into a war (remember that). 2) Not 1 single person was hurt or arrested during these protests. 3) It is a constitutional right to protest when you feel your rights are being violated. 4) How bad does it have to get before YOU take action? How many excuses are YOU going to make? Where is YOUR breaking point? 5) The Declaration of Independence says “We The People”, not me, not you, but WE.

And yes, I did emphasize THROUGH MARRIAGE. There are people close to me to talk shit about my two own brothers. Well, I’ll tell you this, my two brothers are Liberals, they wouldn’t be caught dead posting some bullshit degrading memes hiding on a Facebook account and then trying to act hurt that they’ve been cut out of someone’s life, they wouldn’t talk shit on social media and then try to be sweet at pie to someone’s face. My brothers believe abuse of women of ANY kind is WRONG.

I cannot, I will not allow myself to be in situations where I am uncomfortable being around someone I inherently feel like is an abuser and now I know, without a doubt, these two, fuck it, anyone who supported Rapey Cheeto, is an abuser.

YOU ARE COMPLICIT. It’s just a matter of time before your true colors come out too.

Reflection

A relationship should be two people sharing a reflection of each other. Each paralleling one another to build your collective dreams. You should mirror one another in your expectations.

Every person is an original, unique in their own way but when you reach out to that one person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you should be reaching out on the soul level. It leaves you in a place of never feeling alone. It’s a one of a kind feeling and becomes one in a million when you can reflect that inspiration back to your love

If you find yourself looking at your mate and seeing stark differences in where you want to go, who you want to be, what you’d like to accomplish you’ll find you shouldn’t be with that person. Don’t be afraid to move on. Keep searching. It’s not worth a vacancy in your heart to waste time on someone who clearly isn’t ready to make the same promises you are. Let them be a part of your history.

Be strong. Be ready. Be open.

Provoking Love

I shove him away from me but he forces himself into my space once again.  There is a wholeness I feel with him but it makes me feel like I’m insane.  I don’t want this.  I feel as if this love is too slick.  This love is too good.  This love can’t last.

I lower my eyes and whisper that I want him gone and he screams back at me to make him.  He’s enraged and it’s completely childish.  My mind is colliding with my heart and I begin laughing into the dark room.  I can’t set limits with this man.  I can’t seem to care about setting limits with him anymore.

I try to walk away, I’m at wits end but he pushes me back against a cool wall. He leans into my face, his words sound distant but I know he wants to continue this fight with me. He knows I abhor this kind of behavior. I don’t know why I continually allow him to do it. I don’t tolerate this sort of thing from anyone else and I never have.  His argument settles and is no longer childish He turns intellectual and introspective.

I fall down utterly exhausted but he grabs my arms and pulls me to my feet.  He stares into my eyes.  He expects me to answer him but I can’t even recall him ever asking me a question.

I succumb to the anxiety creeping in and just say no.  He screams yes across my cheeks.  His voice is hard with an edge that makes my heart race and my fingers numb.  It gives me chills and my blood dances up my neck turning everything red.  My body responds to him, to his anger.  I try to focus on him, on what he’s saying to me and one thing becomes clear in that moment.

This man provokes love in me and I’m beginning to crave it.  I’m overcome with embarrassment. This is too close to manipulation. I need to leave him behind and move on.  I cannot allow him to continue provoking love in me any longer.