I Don’t Get Along With Women Typically


“I don’t get along with women typically.” -Duchess Bella Lynn De’Lioncourt
Baroness Jade Mira
House of Vega

Last Monday night I sat at a table at Dan’s Tavern with my BFF of 30 years. There were three other women sitting with us. The one seated to my right and I were jabbering away and having a great time. We laughed a lot even though we weren’t particularly close in high school. My BFF was seated to my left. She shook her head at me from time to time while listening in on the conversation that I was having with my new but old friend to my right.

I looked at my BFF of 30 years and stated, ‘I’m a lot like you ya know. Quiet, reserved. A wallflower.’

Her reply, ‘Renee, you’re about as much of a wallflower as an earthquake.’

My BFF of 30 years, new but old friend, the two other women at the table and I laughed until we were nearly in hysterics. BFF was right, I am about as subtle as an earthquake. When I’m in my element. On Monday night, I was not. I still harbor resentment for my hometown and the people I went to high school with. I didn’t fit in then. Don’t now, but that’s okay. It was fun to sit and chat anyway. To get to know someone that I kind of knew. To have them get to know me.

As we were talking I shared a story about an old boyfriend of mine named Brian H. He was the only ‘jock’ I ever went out with in high school. I was a ‘stoner’, ‘drama’, ‘singer’, ‘actor’ girl. The girl who sang in choir, talked too loud, and read books. I didn’t go out with jocks. But Brian, he was nice. And he liked me. He asked me out and I said yes. We dated off and on. Eventually we started ‘going together’. He gave me his baseball shirt to wear. I was a curvy girl, but he was a big guy, so I kinda swam in it. It was the 80’s, I put a belt around my waist and cinched that sucker as tight as I could. I was so proud to be his girl.

One night he took me to a party to meet his friends. I was scared to death. Me, the force of nature that fears nothing was afraid! I was out of my element and I didn’t have my BFF with me. The only girl I’ve ever trusted with my life. I had Brian though, so I hoped I’d be okay. It was so long ago, I don’t even remember where the party was. As we walked to the front door, the hairs prickled on my neck. Brian slipped his hand into mine and gripped it firmly. When we walked in, I smiled at the girls as they looked at me with disdain. We said our hellos and walked to the part of the house where Brian’s friends were. With the boys I felt at ease. Not because of my boobs, ass or what I had between my legs. But because I could drink, cuss, and shoot the shit with them. It was Brian’s turn to be proud of me. He loved the fact that I was not a girly girl.

New but old friend said, ‘you were the fun girl that’s why Brian loved you, and that’s why the guys got along with you.

Yes, but I’ve always gotten along better with men than I have women’, I replied. ‘I could also drink them under the table too.’

BFF and new but old friend laughed. I teared up a little and began to speak as I pointed to my left, ‘My closest friends have always been men, but that woman right there has been my best friend for 30 years. I would trust her with my life and with every secret that I have to tell. She has never judged me and I’ve never judged her. When life falls apart and turns to shit for either one of us, we turn to each other. I love her beyond measure.’

BFF’s eyes misted over and the rest of us at the table were silent.

‘Now it’s time to let all that old stuff go’, my BFF said.

The unshed tears in my eyes dried and I gave a radiant smile. I realized that she was right, it was time to let it go.

BFF and I know we’ll love each other till we’re dead. Seeing as we both believe in the hereafter, we’ll love each other there too. I don’t know if I’m good enough to get into Heaven, but she is. The woman should be sainted.

As for Brian and me, we broke up. I was the one that broke his heart. I don’t even know where he is.

Even at the age of 45, I find that most of my friends are men. There’s Roger Darling, Harry, Rory, Biker Dude, My Little Work Brothers, my nephews, and even a few from Across The Pond.

Laura calls me an earthquake but she is a volcano. And when the two of us combine, we are a force to be reckoned with.

I Think I’m Finally Spent

God Dammit, I’m exhausted-Lili von Shtupp

So after running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the last 18 months, I’m spent. Because of all of the changes in my life and the sedentary lifestyle I lived for 13 years, I’ve been running on overdrive and adrenaline. Don’t get me wrong it’s been fun for the most part, but I’ve become distracted, disoriented, and disorganized. This Sparkly Girl needs to disconnect and re-group. I’ve found something I’m good at and I’m extremely passionate about it. I’ve found writing. I never in a million years thought I was good at it. This all started from funny Facebook status updates. Serious status updates, lyrics and quotes. Inspirational shit too. Somewhere along the way, I got over-extended and tried to do too much. I’ve lost sight of family, friends and well, the rest of my life.

I need to slow down. But I want to write every damn day. 24/7 preferably. I don’t care if I get paid for it. I get new followers every day, so I must be doing something right. I’ve been told by friends and acquaintances that I’ve given them a voice. That I crawled into their heads and brought out their innermost thoughts. By putting myself out there, I’ve helped them sort out their shit. Unfortunately, I haven’t taken care of my own life. I’m going to take a few days off. I’m not going to post until next Monday, when I’m in West Virginia with my sister from another mister. Hopefully I won’t be chased by a huge ass snake while I’m there. I’m sure Tracy will be glad to take pictures of me running around, peeing on myself, and screaming like a girl. I know she and I will make great memories that I’ll want to share. I’m going to post some of her beautiful photography. She is a goddess behind the lense.

No worries, I will keep writing. On paper for now. As I’ve told K., it’s called longhand. Why I call it that, I’m not sure. Think it’s what my great-grandma called it back when I was a kid. I’ve got a book noodling around in this lovely blonde brain of mine. Some parts of it have already spilled out onto my blog. We’ll see what happens. Keep following me. Keep sending me pictures for stories. I think that’s my favorite. A lot of my readers send me their pics. They tell me a bit of their story and I create a story from it. I embellish of course. Add my own characters, my dreams, my wishes, my past. But it’s fun to go back to the person who sent it to me, and they tell me how close to the truth I get. I’ve even done it for one of my followers. I think that was the MOST fun!

So long for a few days. This demented Tinker Bell and blonde bombshell is going to sleep the sleep of the dead. When I get back, WATCH THE FUCK OUT! Giggle. Oh wait, Roger Darling is telling me to go clean the cat litter. AWESOME!

It’s Time for a Road Trip!

Almost Heaven, West Virginia-John Denver

It’s been about 30 years since I’ve seen one of my dear BFFs, split apart, soul-mate, love of my life. She and I were friends when we were in high school. Not close by any means, but we always ended up at the same parties. In the same social situations. I was in awe of her. She was a beautiful young woman. Blonde haired, blue eyed and gorgeous. Vivacious. Full of fun. Dangerous. The boys loved her. I wanted to be her. Wanted to be closer to her. She was older than I was by a couple of years, so we didn’t connect until years later.

We became friends on Facebook. We shared stories, laughs, tears, and memories. We also found out that we had dated a lot of the same guys from back in the day. We found that we were also so much alike. We write. We love to read. We find life to be incredibly exciting and cosmic. We live for adventure and love. She is a beauty. In mind, body and spirit. She completes me. I talked to a mutual FB friend who told me I needed to get my ass to West Virginia. I agreed it was time. It was time to pack up, load the car with another good friend or friends and head down the road in Candy Blue, the stripper mobile.

It’s time to find my split apart that I haven’t seen in 30 years. It’s time for us to hang out in an old cabin and look at all the beauty surrounding us. It’s time for us to sit at a campfire and contemplate the universe in all of our infinite wisdom. It’s time to get a little Thelma and Louise and have ourselves a kick ass time. To realize that life is still worth living and that we are still just as viable as we were when we were teenagers. To laugh ourselves silly and cry a bit too. To reconnect and find out why we love each other so much, even though we haven’t spoken out loud to each other in 30 years. It’s time for new memories. It’s time for some new ink. For an angel to sit upon my shoulder. Or possibly the top of my foot. So that I will always, always remember who has my back. Who always loves me. To remember that a bit of my heart belongs in West Virginia. I love you T, my angel, I’m going to be there to see you soon!

My Kath, My BFF, My Split Apart, My Partner in Crime

Nae, Kath, Beck (The only one missing is Sarah Jean, as usual. We can never pin that woman down.)

Good friends are like stars. You don’t always see them, but you know they are always there.-Anonymous

She’s a tiny bit of dynamite. She’s got a gutter mouth and a dirty, dirty mind. She’s most definitely my kinda girl. Her dark hair, tiny frame and big laugh drew me to her. Her son and my son, they used to be BFFs. They were inseparable for a time. So naturally we were BFFs too.

She’s moving away. But in my heart, she is still here with me. We all are. We’re still swim mommas. We’re still trying to raise our babies the best way we can. We’re always going to be wild, crazy, bawdy broads. She’s leaving to be with that wonderful and handsome husband of hers. He IS a company man. A good provider. Cute as the day is long. A good man, and funny too. Her children, all of them almost grown, are beautiful creatures.

I call Kath June Cleaver. She is the most domestic of the four of us swim mommas. She works hard to keep her family together. I envy her in some ways. I’m a domestic goddess, but I don’t thrive on it like she does. For  She makes domesticity look fantastic. Har!

She has held my hand, my heart, my secrets, my tears, and my happiness. I have done the same for her. We will continue to do so till the end of our lives. She completes me. She may be in Tennessee with that wonderful husband and family, but part of her will always be here with me in the T. Wherever our travels lead us, part of our hearts will always be here together. Taking care of each other, and our families. We are the family we chose after all.

I love you Kath. You’re my sister. Never forget that. You are my sister. I love you forever and ever. No matter where you are…..

A Message From Beyond the Grave

I received an interesting email today. It seems a month of so before one of my BFFs died of Colon cancer I sent her an email. I told her I was sorry that the news wasn’t good. That I was scared for her. That I wanted her to come home, so I could cook for her and her family. Rub her feet. Whatever she needed I wanted to do for her. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I didn’t see her again until the day she died. I didn’t get to cook for her. I didn’t get to hug her and talk to her. Even rub her feet. Laugh with her. I had to watch her die. With her siblings and parents around. Who I couldn’t stand because of the hate and contempt that came from all of them. I stayed with her that day though. I did.

Imagine my surprise when I received an email from her this morning. See she’s been dead almost a year and a half. All the message said was, in the absence of truth you forfeit the right to honor my memory. I knew it was her sister sending me the message. But come on. Lighten up already. It’s been a year and a half. Let her go. Turn off the email address, and turn off her cell phone. We can not keep her alive with mechanical and technical means. We need to honor her memory by keeping her in our thoughts. By loving her children. It’s what I do. I love her and I miss her.

I wanted so badly to reply to the message. But instead I saved it. I realized it just isn’t worth the fight anymore. There are too many good things left from her that I want to remember. Want to write about someday. That’s how I’ll honor her memory. By writing about her. That’s how I’ll always love her.

I looked into the face of innocence yesterday……

You know, Mrs. Buckman, you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car – hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they’ll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.-Tod from Parenthood

I looked into the face of innocence and was swept away. I met this lovely, sweet, beautiful, cautious and damaged little girl yesterday. A couple friends of mine have taken her in to love and care for her because her mother is an addict and can’t even take care of herself. She sat on a stool at the kitchen table as I and my 3 BFFs were sitting around laughing and talking. Which we haven’t done in quite awhile. I stole glances her way and talked to her. Asked if I could look at her chapstick that she was putting on her lips. She smiled but was a little unsure of me and my simple request. I told her I LOVED her socks, which were purple and had little green frogs on them. She smiled more broadly and confidently.

A few minutes later she was on my lap, and we were talking about her shorts and shirt. They were purple too. I told her that it was my favorite color… She NEVER said a word to me. She only smiled…. But as I talked to her she began to giggle and then to laugh. We laughed about the dog named Katie that kept licking my face and being silly. I hugged her a lot. I let her stare into my eyes. I tickled her. I made her laugh. I asked her if she would come visit me and my Schnauzers and my lovely Roger Darling. She shook her head yes and gave me the most wonderfully bubbly laugh I’ve ever heard. She and I bonded. It was hard to leave her when we left for the movies. I just wanted to sit and talk to her. Hug her. I wanted her to talk to me….

Writing all of this down today gets me very emotional. I don’t understand how a person can have a child and not look at them every day in rapt wonder. And think, I made this child, I have to protect them, love them, and be with them always. I understand addiction, I’ve been there. But I never lost sight of my kids. They were everything to me. They still are. Even in their 20’s I know that I would lay down my life for them. I would push them out of the way of danger to save them.

I know that the little 3 year old wonder that I met yesterday will get the love and attention she needs living with my friends. They’re good, good people. I worry about irreversible damage to the little blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl that stole my heart. As the quote by Frederick Douglass says, It is easier to build strong children, than it is to repair broken men. I know that she will be repaired, but it will take time, patience, perseverance, and most of all love. I so can’t wait to see her, have her look into my eyes, and have my heart stolen again…..

As Beck Says, We’re Like Sex in the City, but Without the City

I have three super, awesome, and amazing BFFs. We were all swim mommas at one time. Our kids were fish, pool rats, tiger sharks, Indians. We watched them grow from tad poles to sharks before our eyes. We grew as friends and an extended family right along with them….

I met the lovely, earthy Sarah (Miranda) when Meggie was 9 years old. She was the Tiger Sharks coach. She was down to earth, no nonsense, friendly but guarded. She and her husband lived at the pool, I think. 🙂 I wasn’t sure if we’d ever be friends but I was impressed with the way she handled the kids during practice. They listened to her, looked up to her and really took what she taught them to heart. Adam would go with us to the meets, complaining of boredom the entire time. So the next Tiger Sharks season we put his butt in the pool too. There he became friends with Sarah’s two sons Andrew and Alden. They’re all a bunch of weirdos so it was a perfect match. So because our children were friends we became friends.

Over the years I’ve come to love Sarah, she is the kind of friend that you think is so darn tough but really is a gentle soul. She has told me point blank when she’s pissed about something, and I’ve learned to just give it right back. She respects that about a person. She doesn’t like a whiny baby! She has been an integral part of my kids lives. She has taught them discipline, fairness, duty, loyalty and love. I hope that I have done the same for her kids. I do love them as my own.

Then there’s Miss Kathy (Charlotte). What to say about my love, Kath. She is our June Cleaver. Loves a clean house, catering to her families needs, and LOVES her husband fiercely. Tim and Kathy make us sick with all the lovey doveyness they still have for each other after 23 years of marriage. Ryan, Andrew and Adam were BFFs for all of middle school, and high school so we grew as friends over the years. I’ve come to love her and trust her. She’s a sweet, sweet woman who will stop at nothing to take care of her family and friends. She’s got a dirty mind and filthy mouth and by God I love that about her! Our kids have fallen away from each other over the years, but we are still the best of friends. I would trust her with my life and I know that if I ever needed anything, she would be right there to help me. I’m telling you sometimes the family you choose can complete you more than your blood family.

Now onto my dear Becky (Samantha). She’s just a younger version of me with a little more redneck thrown in. I love that she’s a Westland girl. I feel I’ve got some kind of street cred when I hang out with her. She’s a bad ass and mouthy, and will tell you point blank if you’re being a dumb ass. She’s been married since she was 16, but she’s proven time and again that she’s in love with that wonderful down to earth husband of hers. And her kids know straight up not to mess with her. She may be a young mom, but she’s tough and she is not their friend. We call her youngest child Mini Megan, because she acts just like my baby girl. We are very proud of that fact though. We’ve raised tough, strong, independent women that have a gentle side. They’re just like their mommas, by God! I swear to you this woman is my sister, we even look alike…..

And of course I’m Carrie, only because I’m the writer. I’ve been with my Mr. Big for almost 23 years. We have a happy little life. We have these wonderful friends and their wonderful kids to call our own. And I know they feel the same about us. We started out as the swim parents. Watching our kids during practice, cheering at meets, organizing events, and feeding and watering all those hungry swimmers. Somewhere along the way we became a family. I know I will always love them and they will always love us. We will have each others backs, fronts, sides, and hearts. We go months sometimes without seeing each other, but then we get together and it’s like we’ve never lost any time.

I love these women. They complete me. We are all so different, but we are so much the same….. I. Just. Love. Them…..