Child of the 80's, Mother of today.

Before I became a mom, I didn't give much thought to what my daughter would watch on television. Being the wanna-be crunchy mom that I am, I didn't think my child would watch any more than 2 hours of television a day (if that), and those shows would be strictly educational, so that she could be fluent in Spanish and know calculus all by the time she was two years old.
That didn't happen.
I thank the heavens for tv. TV has saved my sanity.

My daughter loves Dora the Explorer; Go, Diego Go; Ni Hao Kai Lan, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and many other shows catered toward pre-schoolers on Nick Jr. and The Disney Channel. (I should totally be paid for those plugs!) However, as I flip through the cable guide, and through the channels, I can do nothing but sigh heavily and sadly, and shake my head at the shows that are on now.

I grew up in the 80's. Go ahead, make fun of the clothes, make fun of the music, make fun of the dances; but don't you dare make fun of the kids shows I had the pleasure of watching. You wanna know why I am the way I am (and I'm pretty damn awesome), look at the shows I watched as a kid, and what they taught me.



This is David. He's a gnome, from The World of David the Gnome. "Look around you, there are many things to see, that some would say could never be. These things I know, it's true and I will tell you so, they are there to see, if you believe. Trolls and wizards, and fairy kings, birds that fly and fish that sing, and if your heart is true, then you will find them too. In every wish and dream and happy home, you will find a kingdom of the Gnomes."
Those are the words to the theme song, which I know by heart, and haven't forgotten for over 20 years. David and his wife Lisa live in a hole at the bottom of a tree, I believe they had one daughter. They also had two pet mice that were about the same size as they were. They were tiny (the gnomes, not the mice). David was a doctor, helping many animals and some people. He preferred natural medicine, including acupuncture and hypnosis. David could speak to animals. His best friend was a fox named swift, who he often rode on the back of to take him to different patients. David was my hero. I strongly believe that helped spark and nurture my love for animals. I'll be 29 next month. Do I believe that maybe, just maybe in an obscure hole somewhere hidden in my house, there might live a pair of noble gnomes? You bet I do. And I think that makes me a better person. :o)



These are Carebears. Not just any kind of bear, they are bears who care, A LOT! As a matter of fact, they live upon fluffly clouds in a place called Care-a-Lot. You know what they taught kids?...That's right, they taught them to care. They taught empathy and sympathy. They taught us to overcome evil and nasty thoughts and feelings, to open your heart and care. To this day, when I see anyone who just wants to be bad because they feel bad, maybe because they thought no one cared for them, I just wanna do a Care-bear stare. In 2007 they tried to reintroduce the Carebears to this new generation, with "improved" (I'm guessing that was the goal) computer generated animation. You know what...you can revive the old and originals by reintroducing the old and originals. ::sad face::






Ahhh, The Smurfs, the original blue man group! These playful little creatures lived happy lives in mushroom houses in a forest of some sort, eating sarsaparilla and smurf berries. The leader of their people was the wise Papa Smurf, who taught us to work together and use our individual talents for good. No one can remember the Smurfs and not smile. Unless you are evil. :o)
(For Smurf enthusiasts: Did you know that the creation of the Smurfs actually predate the 80's? They actually originate from Belgium as a comic book series in 1958. And, did you know *or remember* that Smurfette was not a true Smurf, but created by Gargamel out of clay? There's your trivia for today.)










Hmmm...let's skip that one. :o)






And just so you guys don't think I only watched girly cartoons:
He-Man!! "I have the power!!!" OK, what did I learn from He-Man? I learned that I wanted a bad-ass sword and a big tiger that I could ride! Aside from that, like most of the cartoons of this era, it taught to do good, to be good above all, and to conquer over evil. He-man also taught me that you had to overlook an otherwise kinda queer looking fellow, because beneath it all, he could be He-Man! :o)

This is Prince Adam, before he invokes the "Power of Grayskull" and becomes He-man. :o) Yeah, bet you didn't remember that, huh!?

I also loved He-Man's twin sister, (role model for kick-ass girls everywhere!) She-Ra, Princess of Power! And I wanted her rainbow-winged steed, Spirit, as well. :o) She-Ra was pretty important since the majority of "heroes" out there were boys. There were some kick-ass girls like myself out there, and She-Ra put us on the same level as the boys. :o) Thanks, She-Ra! "For the Honor of Grayskull!"












The 30-something year old scientists of today can probably attribute some of their interest in the sciences to Don Herbert, Mister Wizard! Even the kids that didn't like science class liked this show. Where is the Mr. Wizard of today? Yes, as I got older they had Bill Nye the Science Guy and Beakman's World...but where are those shows for our children?







Remember Levar Burton?


.....



















No, no, not that Levar Burton! (If you have never seen the movie "Roots", then shame on you!)

....









No, not that one either! (Although I know this one well. My mom is a trekker. Not a trekkie. The fact that I know the difference between the two should tell you something.)

But, I digress, here, this Levar!:


Reading Rainbow, encourager of literacy in children around the globe. This guy made you want to go to the library, you wanted to check books out, you wanted to read! I can remember getting my first library card (kinda..not really, but go with me on this!), and I remember absolutely loving to go to the library and check out my very own books. I loved seeing the books on the show and then checking them out myself. I loved reading then, and I love reading now. And whattaknow, I'm a writer too. :o) I know they have shows now to encourage a love for words and reading, but nothing beats Reading Rainbow! And you don't have to take my word for it!
Aw hell, c'mon, let's all sing the song, you know you want to!
"Butterfly in the sky I can go twice as high, take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow! I can go anywhere!
Friends to know and ways to grow, a reading rainbow! I can be anything! Take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow, A Reading Rainbow."




^These are some of the things I grew up with.^



WTH are these!?


A sponge. Some weird-ass looking kids. And some very annoying, only semi-talented dorks...I mean, actors.
I'm not saying that all the shows kids have today are horrible. I think there are some great shows out there, but there's something lacking in our children, that I believe, has to do with what they're exposed to on tv. I mean, even if your child is only allowed to watch the Disney Channel, Nickelodeon, or PBS even, the shows just aren't the same. Hannah Montana & The Suite Life have made our children sarcastic and disrespectful toward their parents. Have you seen how those kids talk to adults? Or worse yet, how the adults talk to the children? If I grew up with, and emulated these shows, I would have had a stutter in my adult years from all the hits I'd have taken to the mouth. These other shows with the weird lookin' kids...is their purpose to show us the effects of taking (or not taking) Ritalin? I don't know.

Sure, I grew up with cartoons that were undoubtedly created by the potheads of the late 60's and early 70's. However, what did they preach? Love, caring, empathy, heroism, friendship, kindness, confidence, sympathy, peace, environmental awareness, happiness. Maybe some of the current shows have the same values, but the execution is all wrong.





Bring back the good ol' days.






I don't think anyone watched Widget the World Watcher, except me. :o)




Anyone remember "Today's Special"? I loved this show!




I was totally Leonardo! :o) Sometimes I was Donatello.








Had to have Nickelodeon to know Maya the Bee. :o)



These are some of the shows of my day.
There were ducks that helped us learn the Dewey Decimal System. There was a young blond-haired boy who taught us to be mischievous, but not too much so. (Actually, I remember the very old live action, black & white Dennis the Menace show. It was one of my favorites.) I too, was a bit mischievous. There were puppets and muppets, and giant elephants that taught us the "Skinnamarink" song. There were loving, adventurous bears who made every kid want to taste Gummi juice. There were pizza-eating, butt-kicking turtles who learned about the great artists of old from their mighty rat sensei. There were a lot of mischievous cats, and entertaining dogs. There was a man who made us want all kinds of cool gadgets. There was a boy, and his dog. (OK, I know Lassie was not made in the 80's, but I watched that show faithfully, every morning at 6am before heading off to Kindergarten. I learned a lot from Lassie, and Timmy. There will always be a special place in my heart for collies.) There were awesome robots that transformed, protecting our planet from evil forces. There were people who were cats, or maybe they were cats who were people. There was a little girl who made you want strawberries every time you saw her. (I loved the books as a kid!) There were mice and chipmunks out to rescue. There was a little girl who made short skirts and rainbows so very cool. (I totally had one of those plush sprites, and loved the thing!) There were koalas, and bunnies, and penguin, and bees. There were men in tight pants who urged you to sing.
I look back on them and I smile. A lot of parents have a great wish to give and share with their children the things they never had. That's one of my goals. However, we must also give and share in the things that we did have. The things that made us happy and made us smile as children will likely make our own children smile.


What were some of your favorite shows, and how did they affect you?

Up the ante!

I couldn't think of a better title for this post. :o)

I have 7 followers, maybe 3 of them actually read this blog, maybe 1 of them actually comment. Nicht gut!

Give me some things to write about. I need some inspiration! It can be anything!

Tsk. Tsk.

What a horrible blogger I am. It's been since October '10 since my last post.

I don't think I lack things to talk about, or write about, but I think I've been less than creative lately. And quite frankly, if I discussed the things that were really on my mind, this blog would be kind of a downer. And that is not its intent. What is the intention of this blog? Hell if I know, but it's not to be a dark cloud. An outlet for my amusing ramblings, art, ideas, useless information and observations, yes, I think so.

So, guess what...?
OK, I'll tell ya. To my surprise (not really), there's already a book out there called "The Husband Handbook"! So...any ideas on a new title? Please, share, 'cause I'm drawing a blank. And about "The Handbook", as I'll now refer to it, I've been coming up with nothing to add to it. My ideas just aren't flowing like they used to, and I deeply regret not writing down the ideas in regards to this little book. Actually, I think I did write them down, but I haven't the slightest idea where those scribbles might be.
So, while you're thinking up alternative titles, give me some ideas, OK? What are some "issues" concerning men, women, and marriage that you might want me to write about? What cute or confusing observations have you made? Do share. :o)

Whilst I was working on the aforementioned book with no title, I thought about a similar script for wives. So, I jotted down a few things, and I'll share those now, because I have nothing else to do.



Warning: The following is intended for entertainment purposes only. (Meh.) If you are easily offended or otherwise just very sensitive to the battles between the sexes, or have no sense of humor, you should not continue reading. I make no apologies for the ridiculousness that swirls around in my head.
Yes, I might be somewhat of a feminist.
Yes, I like men, especially Viggo Mortensen and David Gandy. Especially when David Gandy is wearing as little clothes as possible...mmmmmm...shit, I just drooled on the keyboard.
Yes, I'm a little bit of a lesbian. Just a little, like 60%. Maybe 75.


The Wife Pamphlet
Companion to Chapter One

Dear Lovely Ladies, Wonderful Wives (or those achieving excellence), in all fairness I cannot write "The Husband Handbook", and not take a look in the mirror at my own reflection as a wife. So, for us, I have decided to write The Wife Pamphlet. (To understand his wife, surely a man would have to read a book! For us, a pamphlet will do.) :o) Just as our husbands have committed to a life-long partnership and we have high expectations of them, we should have high expectations of ourselves, as wives, mothers, and women.
I would say our husbands don't have as many expectations on us (as we do them) because they have (in their hearts and minds) married their perfect mate. This thought makes me smile every time I think it, because I truly believe it to be true when men marry for love. (Keep in mind that not ALL men marry for love. You come up with whatever other reasons your imagination can muster. And some men simply think they've found love, only to realize it's something else entirely. A fail-proof test of true love is in how much a man wants/or would want, his wife to change. But this is a whole other subject entirely, one I do plan to write about, eventually). A friend of mine wrote, within the contents of her own blog, something that her father told her husband; wise advice from a happily married older gentleman: "Women go into marriage hoping that their man will change, men go in hoping their woman won’t." I couldn't have said it better myself.

Just as I said to the husbands, to treat their ladies as queens, so should we treat our husbands as kings. (However, men need to know that this is more like a chess game than a traditional hierachy. The queen rules the board!) :o) And while everything revolves around us (in the most positive of ways, of course!) we must not forget our husbands who do the revolving. Yes, they may not be perfect, and most of them are still in training, but they do love us, and deep down they really have the best of intentions. We must remember this. God, must we remember this! My own husband often has the best of intentions, but horrible execution (in my opinion...which is the one that matters), and I often have the urge to hit him across the head with a thick iron skillet, but, I too must try to remember the root of his intentions.
Not to relate men to dogs at all, (so don't take it like that when I relate this story) but I once had a dog, that, with the best of intentions, wanted to leave me loving gifts on the back porch. This dog was quite affectionate, and gave this gifts with the intentions of making me happy. Big dead rats on the steps (or the occassional dead bird) didn't exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy. This dog had good intentions, but the execution was poor.
Just as our husbands NEED to listen to us, truly hear us, we in turn need to be open, honest, and clear in our expectations and desires. OK, every now and again we can hint at that bracelet we might want, or that sweater we saw at the store a couple weeks ago, but for the most part, we need to make our desires, goals, feelings, hopes, and thoughts very clear. The male brain operates differently than the female brain. They need clear, concise directions and communication.

Below I am going to touch on some of things I wrote in my previous Handbook post, keeping the ladies in mind. Please refer to that previous post to know what the hell I'm talkin' about.

"You're entitled to your own opinion. (as long as it's the same as mine)"

Their opinion counts two. No, I didn't mis-type, their opinion counts about 2%. But that's at least something, and it counts too. :o) (OK, yeah, that was mean, but it was funny.) :o)
While we (wives) are usually right, as all nearly-perfect creations are expected to be, we aren't 100% correct, all the time. A husband's job is to let us think we are, our job is to know we aren't. I have absolutely no problem admitting that I am only right a percentage of the time. 98.54% to be exact. :o)
In all seriousness, we must remember to take our husband's considerations into account . Or at least, pretend to. Like, when you're decorating the bathroom, and for some unknown reason your husband suggests, with true sincerity, that you purchase towels or accessories that are the exact opposite of the style you've chosen. Take a moment and pretend to think it over, and let him down gently. (And remind yourself to do the shopping for the bathroom by yourself, but allow him to go to the Home Depot and pick out the toilet plunger.) In more serious cases, like when it comes to our feelings, or their interpretations of our feelings, remember their 2%. It is quite possible that you really are angry/sad/hurt/whatever, even if you don't recognize it at the time. I can't really think of any other examples, but remember, 2%. :o)

"She does, you don't."

But he can, and he should.
OK, so our guys can't think about other women, in any way, shape or form. Well, they can't think about any attractive women. :o)
They can't have any (attractive) female friends without our express permission.
They cannot forget important dates! (Yes, I drop contractions when I'm most serious!)

-But, he can and should have a "Guys Night Out", just as we should have and need to have special time with our girls. Women need to congregate with their girlfriends and do girl stuff that only girls can understand. Men need the same. God knows it's hard for us to understand them sometimes, they need to be with their own kind.
-He can and should have his room/area. Even if our guys are smart enough to let us decorate and accessorize the entire house (if that is a lady's desire), at least give them one room. They need their own space, they need something that can be entirely them, something with their signature on it. Apply this as you will, but there must be something in your house, yard, whatever/wherever you reside, that says his name all over it.
-He can and should have "quiet/free days", free of our opinions, demands, and questions. I find the male species quite interesting and intriguing, and I, like a lot of women have a lot of questions. Like, when you see that I obviously have all the silverware arranged in the drawer in a very deliberate manner, why, WHY would you put that spoon there!? Is that spoon going on an adventure in the silverware drawer? Is it a teenage spoon that's rebelling against the other spoons? Grrr!
Or, why would you leave just a sip of milk in the goddamn refrigerator!!!? WHY!!! I have gotten my cookies out on a plate, and arranged them with maximum appeal to fully enjoy my Oreo experience, and the only thing I need to complete this picture is a full glass of milk. A picture of happiness. The glass is on the counter, just asking to be filled. And then there's only an inch of milk that pours forth. WHY!!? For the love of all that is right and holy, WHY!!?
I have a lot of questions, and a lot of complaints. Sometimes they need a day off.

Men still cannot forget important dates, there's no way around that. Get a calender and circle the ones they're most likely to forget. You can help 'em out a little. :o)

Bottom line, treat him as good as he's supposed to (and should be) treating you.
And reward good behavior.
Cut them some slack, they aren't perfect. (How can they be if we are!?)
Remember, it's not give and take. It's give and give.
...

See, it's more of a pamplet, or leaflet, or post-it note. :o)

I'm tired and I'm going to sleep now. I promise the next post will come sooner than later. I'll try to write tomorrow, there are some things I've been meaning to say. :o)

It Does Get Better.

Hello readers. (My very few, but lovely) readers. :o) I must apologize for my long absence, but life has gotten in the way of writing. Of course, if I'm to be a writer, I need to fix that. :o) I actually did attempt to write a few blogs, but with taking care of a very precocious toddler, I never found the time to finish and post them.
When I last wrote I was down in West Palm Beach, visiting my mother for about 5 months. I didn't intend to be visiting for that long, but I did, and I'm glad I did. I needed the time away, and Korah (my daughter - for anyone who just happened upon this blog) progressed a lot in her development during that time, and I think it was mostly due to being in a "happier" environment. Since then, I've returned to Fernandina Beach, FL, and shortly after that, moved up to Woodstock, GA. I'm settling in, and I'll be writing about that at a later date. My husband is currently gathering, packing and cleaning, and will join me in a couple weeks. I think.
On a related note, I'll be starting a new blog that'll be solely about my family, family life and family related...stuff. I know, I know, I'm not doing such a great job at keeping this blog going, but I think I'll find myself updating that more. Why not just include those things in this blog? Because this blog is about me, and all the things that are going on in my head and in my life, separate from my family life. I see myself as a big strong, beautiful tree; (no, I couldn't just a be a regular ol' tree!) and my family is just a branch of the tree. A very important, large branch, mind you. :o)

So, what's been going on since I last wrote, other than my daughter turning 2 ::sniffle sniffle::, a move from FL to GA, Sookie finally kickin' Bill to the curb, summer's over and autumn's arrived, and a bunch of other stuff that I've been too busy to take notice of, I'm not too sure. One thing that I have taken notice of, however, is the recent suicides of gay teens due to bullying. ::sigh::

It's hard to think that there are still so many issues based in pure ignorance that exist in 2010. 2010!

I grew up in Miami, FL. Most people think that's a great thing since the city is known for its diversity. You often here, "Oh you're from Miami, there's a bit of everything there." Yes, that's true, but "like also sticks to like" in many areas down there. Me? It was hard for me to fit in anywhere. (Still is, really.) I was born a black girl (eff all that politically correct stuff, I don't know a damn person in my family or history that's from Africa!), and in my younger years I was raised in Liberty City, FL. Which, if you know anything about Miami, you know that's the "hood", I mean, true "hood". Demographically, it's like 95% black, 3% Hispanic, and I guess 2% white. I'm guessing they're counting that old white couple that stayed in the neighborhood and refused to leave. :o) I grew up there, but I wasn't like the people there. I talked differently, walked differently, dressed differently, thought differently. I left that neighborhood after kindergarten and moved with my mom to a more diverse neighborhood with better schools and such. (I was living with my grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, sister, and cousin) However, neighborhoods like that are everywhere, and a lot of magnet schools are in those areas, and by fifth grade I was a magnet student. I didn't call it bullying then, but I guess that's what it would be considered today. I got made fun of. Other black students would say, "Why you talk like that?" I guess proper use of grammar and sentence structure was not how I was "supposed" to speak. Even some of my own family kinda picked on me, and to make matters worse, I had no ass! I mean literally, a black girl with no badonk! What kind of joke is that, God!? I was too "white" for the black students, and too "black" for the white students, with a flat behind. Where then, did I belong? I'm a pretty strong and smart chick though, and I managed to fit in. OK, so I was kinda known as the "weird" one, but I wasn't hiding in a corner alone, or being beat up. I think I just let the kids get to know me. Yeah, I might be a little different than what you expect, but I'm still cool people. I adapted to them, they adapted to me. I fit in, in my own way. That was part of elementary.

(I didn't fit in with my Girl Scout troop. I hated my girl scout troop. Buncha' ghetto ass mofos, always pickin' on me. One nearly drowned me! I wonder where they are now, probably all have 5 babies with 6 baby daddies...bitches!)
Excuse me! Sorry. Rant over. I must have been harvesting that for some time.

I was raised in a very strict Baptist household. My gosh, everything was a sin! And I come from one of those really old fashioned black Baptist families where you have to go outside and get a switch off the tree and then get a beating by the syllable. No, I didn't say spanking. Spanking is what you saw on tv sometimes when little Timmy strayed too far from the house and let the dog fall in the well. Anywho, one of the biggest sins was girls being with girls and boys being with boys. Such relationships and feelings were wrong. "God didn't make Adam & Steve..." You know the saying. So from a very early age, I was confused about who I was, who I should be, because I liked girls. I liked girls in the way that other girls liked boys. I knew I had those feelings, and they were supposed to be wrong, but there was no one in my family I could talk to about it. I'd overhear one of them talk about this "dyke" or that "fag" with disgust; or maybe not so much disgust as incomprehension. It wasn't until middle school that I really realized those feelings wouldn't go away. Middle school is bad enough. For part of middle school I was still in the magnet program, and us art students were known as weird anyway, so that was a good fit. There was a girl or two I liked, and even one boy (he was kinda weird too), but when I went to a "regular" jr. high...::sigh:: I don't even like thinking back. Still too white for the black students, and didn't quite fit with the white students, but luckily I found my place with others who didn't quite fit in either. Actually I'm still friends with them today. :o) There was a time where I really felt like being more my true self, but then the rumors started to surface that I liked girls, and I didn't like that attention, so I ran back into the closet of my own secret thoughts. (which included a major crush on this girl named Sandy) :o) Middle school was really tough, and I'll admit there were times when I contemplated suicide. Some days it just seemed like it would be better alternative than to endure another day of the crap you can go through. I was just never like the other kids, but in my own way, I fit in. It was hard, but I did it.

I'm bisexual. I hate saying that because it's always sounded like I'm confused, like I couldn't make up my mind which way to go, and so I chose to go both ways. Ugh. I hate that. "I go both ways." One of the most annoying phrases I hate to hear. To me it just sounds promiscuous. And I am neither confused, nor promiscuous. I was born with an attraction, physically/mentally/emotionally to women, and men. Do I lean more one way than the other, yes. I lean more toward an attraction to women. However, there are certain men (Viggo Mortensen, Alexander Skarsgård (as Eric Northman), Robert Pattinson, Jonny Depp...) that would make my head turn in a sex. I mean sec. They would make my head turn, in a second. However, all of those men do seem slightly effeminate. (sorry guys!) :o) This is who I am, what I am, it's the way that I was born, it's the way my brain works. I offer no apologies, neither to myself nor the world for who I am. Not anymore I don't.

High school seems like a flashback of the 70's, even though it was the 90's. I wore tie-dye shirts, Birkenstock sandals (the official sandal of lesbians), and at the time, obnoxiously wide legged jeans were in (for the "rockers", which I associated more with). Today I think I'd be "emo"? Hippy-emo? Empy? I don't know. There was a tree where all the pot smokers hung out, the "tree people". For some reason, high school was a lot more tolerable. (Not just because I skipped half of it) I was pretty comfortable with not being "normal" and I could take most things in stride. My friends were among the geeks, dorks, International Baccalaureate (IB), and "tree people". I had random friends all over the school, and for some reason I was pretty well known. I still haven't figured that out yet. I was a member of our high school GLBT "support group", which all schools should have. They should have groups for everyone, because in high school, no matter what you're going through, you often feel alone in it. Usually there's at least one other person that knows exactly what you're going through, usually more than one. :o) For me, there were still comments, or "jokes" or whatever you want to call it, because I was different, and even though I still didn't quite fit in, I kinda did. :o) Even though I climbed a tree barefoot and ate my lunch in the tree.
College is a little different in that the people that are there actually want to be there. OK, not all of them, but most of them. You still have your jerks, of both genders and every ethnicity. But what I've come to realize over the years, after going through those school days, and teaching adolescents, is that...kids are assholes! More specifically, teenage kids. Between 13 and say, 20, some sort of biological asshole trait comes out and kids can be pricks. But, it does get better. As long as you hang in there, and stay true to who you are, you wade through all the crap and come out on the other side. You look back, and you say, "I got through that." And you just keep on treading. And it's a better road.

Bullying doesn't just occur to GLBTs of our communities, it happens to the white-black girls, and the black-white girls, the little Asian kids whose parents push them to do well in school, the Middle Eastern kids, the emos, and WOW addicts; that kid who got a lifetime worth of acne in one year, that girl who happens to grow just a bit more body hair than what's considered attractive by American standards, that girl whose glasses are just a little too big and her braces a little too...showy. Even the head "jock" can get bullied by his teammates, or the head cheerleader, or that girl who really just wants to be a girl but has a woman's body. It happens, it's sad, and as has been proven over and over through the years, whether in the form of suicide, or acts like that at Columbine, it can be deadly. We have to teach those that do the bullying, teasing, joking, whatever you want to call it, that It Is Not OK! And to the victims of such, It Does Get Better! :o)

So, that's me. Bisexual, purple-headed, no booty havin' black chick (that "talks white"). I didn't really fit in back then and I don't really fit in now. But I'm here. And I'm livin'. As the great Einstein once said (he didn't exactly fit in either!) "Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."
I'm not sure who will read this, if anyone reads it at all. But maybe someone who's feeling bullied, or simply "lost" amongst their peers, will stumble upon this and be reminded that "It does get better."

Well, that's it for now, folks. Until next writing. :o)

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” -Oscar Wilde.

The Husband Handbook: Chapter I

I haven't written anything on this blog yet, except for an introductory post. I've either been tired, or busy, or tired, or didn't deem whatever thoughts floating around in my head "blog-worthy", or I was tired. But, I can't simply just let this tiny piece of space laze around on the world wide web. I'm sure once I get into the swing of blogging again, my posts will flow more smoothly and consistently.
I don't think this blog is going to have a particular "theme", as some do. This isn't dedicated to my life as a mother and the time that I spend with our daughter and family. This isn't dedicated to my writing or art projects. I think it'll simply be a crockpot of crap digested from my head. :o) Appetizing, eh?

So, as to what I'm writing today. Even before I got married, even in previous relationships, I've referred to "The Husband Handbook", which is a book that has existed only in my mind, a rough guide to the do's and don't's of a relationship for men. For example, I might ask "Do I look fat in this?" and he might answer "Well, that shirt does look a little snug." And I would respond with, "You haven't read your 'Husband Handbook' have you?" Well, I started to actually write this little guide a couple of years ago, though it's never been a serious project. However, if it's well-received, I may do some real work on it. So, here's a little piece (or, pieces, rather). Share your opinions (as long as they agree with mine!) :o) (You'll understand that in a few.)


WARNING: The following blog is intended for entertainment purposes only. (Not.) If you are easily offended or otherwise just very sensitive to the battles between the sexes, or have no sense of humor, you should not continue reading. I make no apologies for the ridiculousness that swirls around in my head.
No, I am not a feminist.
No, I do not dislike men.
No, I am not a lesbian. Well, not completely...



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The Husband Handbook
Chapter I: I Do! (and you do too!)

Many times, my husband has said or done something he should know better than to do, or say. He's not in “boyfriend” territory anymore, where he can get away with doing certain things (that even then he should know better than to do, or say). He's enlisted into the partnership (Ruler-ship? Dictatorship?) called “Marriage”. :o) Upon enlisting, he should have received his handbook, but didn't. So many haven't. Tsk, tsk. And so I am presenting them with one. :o)

Chapter I:

I Do. (And you do too!)

Dear, dear, husbands, there are certain unwritten rules you must learn if you are to have a successful marriage. If you happen to believe in the theory that man (and woman) were created by God, then surely you must have figured out that you were the prototype, and women were the perfected creations. Everything revolves around us, women, and the sooner you come to terms with this, the happier your lives will be. That is not to say that we place ourselves on high thrones (that would take up way too much space in the living room), or think of ourselves as goddesses or queens (at least we won't openly admit that we do). But, you should treat us as such. Think of your woman as queen, and she will think of you as her king, I assure you. Try it.

For those that have taken the leap and vowed yourselves to a lifetime with one mate, 'til death parts you, you should know what it really means to say, “I do”.

• You're Entitled to Your Own Opinion. (As long as it's the same as mine)

Most couples who choose to marry one another have already gone through the courting and dating process. It's in this time that you test the waters of compatibility. Most couples tend to share the same opinion on big issues, such as religion, political views, and family views; but, oh husbands, it's the smaller points that you must share as well.

It's all really a matter of “right” and “wrong”. When you don't share our opinions, this implies that you are right, and we are wrong. And this simply cannot be, for the wife is always right. That's a nice little rhyme to commit to memory, “The wife is always right, the wife is always right, hi, ho the dairy-o, the wife is always right.”

Here's a very minor scenario:

A husband and wife walk into a rug store to get a new area rug for their new living room. The wife spots a nice, colorful piece that allows them to choose any number of colors as accents for the room. She looks at her husband and says, “What do you think about this one?”

Her husband eyes the rug and replies, “I think it has a little too much red.”

She looks again. “Hmm...no, I don't think it does.”

He looks again, “Hmm...I do.” <------ This is not the correct response.

She frowns.

Let's try this again:

...She looks again. “Hmm...no, I don't think it does.”

He looks again. “I suppose you're right, do you want to get this one?”

She smiles, says yes, and gives him a hug and light kiss, thinking about the wonderful future they're going to have, living together, having a family, growing old and gray, blah blah blah. :o)

Now, let's just throw in another element to this scenario, just for deeper understanding:

The rug, does, in fact, have too much red, the wife realizes as it's laid out in their new living room.

She steps back, takes a long look at the rug and says, “Honey, I think there's a little too much red in it.”

Husband doesn't even look and says, “I told you.” <----Not the right response.

Wife frowns. Husband won't be getting any tonight.

Let's try that again:

“Honey, I think there's a little too much red in it.”

He looks at the rug again, knowing it did in the first place, but says, “You really think so?”

“Yeah...I guess you were right.” (score 1 for hubby)

“We can return it and get another if you'd like.” (Notice hubby doesn't outwardly recognize her admission of being wrong, but does a tiny dance in his head)

“Yes, I'd like that.” Wife smiles. Husband gets some later that night.

Now guys, you might think this is demeaning, deferring to your wife. This is absolutely not the case! (Yes, it is, but I think it's rude to openly say so.)

• She does, You don't.

There are certain things that we (women/wives) are allowed to do, that you simply cannot. I'm not gonna lie, it's not fair, but these are the rules we live by.

Do you remember the episode of Friends where Ross and Rachel made their “ freebie list”? The “Freebie list” is the list of 5 celebrities that you can sleep with (should the opportunity present itself) and your partner can't get mad. Well, I think it's a bit silly and a little inappropriate and disrespectful to even make such a list. So, I won't share mine. :o) But, it's even more silly, inappropriate, and disrespectful for our husband's to make such a list. Why? Because no one could ever be as beautiful and desirable than your own wife. :o) So, even though I might daydream, or fantasize (or dedicate a locked room with plastered posters all over the walls and ceiling) of Viggo Mortensen or Robert Pattinson, hubby simply isn't allowed to do the same with any female, celebrity or otherwise. :o)

We (women/wives) are allowed to have male friends. They are only friends. Believe me, if we wanted them to be something more, we wouldn't be married to you. However, your having female friends is permissible only on a case-by-case basis. We have to meet them, converse with them, alone, get inside their heads, observe them in a crowd of men, and come to our own conclusions as to whether they can be in your (and our) life or not. This has nothing to do with jealousy, possessiveness, or control. This has nothing to do with a lack of trust on your part, but an uncertainty on theirs. Consider it a compliment. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but most of them are throw-backs. I'm awesome, we're awesome, each individual woman, and the fact that we chose you (our spouses) as a life-partner is enough to make any single (or unhappily married/committed) female attracted to you. :o)

We (women/wives) are allowed to forget important dates, you aren't. Though it doesn't happen very often (as it's scientifically proven that females are better multi-taskers), we can occasionally forget something important, like a birthday or anniversary. This is because we have so much on our plates. Yes, we know you do too, but we have more. If it should happen that we forget an important date, we will make it up to you, possibly for the next year until that date comes around again. We will make it up in ways you could only imagine, so go ahead, imagine away. However, you cannot forget important dates because though we are strong, resilient, goddess-like creatures, we are still quite fragile. (I will never openly admit that again, so soak it up) You can make it up all year, but we will never forget the time you forgot.

This is not the entire list, of course, but only a taste of we are allowed to do and you aren't. Now, some might say that these are simply double standards, to which I say, "WHAT!? No, they aren't." And you really shouldn't argue with me because, "The wife is always right." :o)
The list really isn't that long, and it's only there because we have only your best interests in mind. If any ladies, or men for that matter, would like to contribute to the list, please feel free to do so. This also isn't the completed chapter, but a sample of chapter one.

...

OK, well, I'm tired now. Until next post...adieu. :o)

Who is this chick? Why is she blogging? And why should I read it?

My name is Akili. It sounds like Achilles, without the "s". I am the "a" in a-typical. All things that I do and have done are typical, for me, Akili. :o) Thus the blog title, which I thought to be clever.

I was a-typical kid.
(click to enlarge)

I was a-typical teen.

For me, I'm a typical adult, I suppose. Though for me atypical is typical, so...there ya go. It's been over 10 years since I turned 18, and far too much has occurred for me to try and draw it all in one of those cute little film strip. :o) Fast forward to present and I am a wife, and mother to a wonderful almost 21-month-old baby girl. More children are in the future (sooner than later), and when the time comes I'll blog about that, of course. :o) Before I was a mother, I was a zoo-keeper; and before that, I was an actor and performer; before that I taught dance and gymnastics; and before that I taught horse-back riding to kids and teens; before that, well, I was in middle school. :o)
I'm a girl of many talents, and many faces. I like to write. I'm working on children's books and possible (one day) novels.

Check in every so often, 'cause who knows what I'm going to write about on this blog!? I sure don't. :o)

Namaste.