valkyriesw
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Below are the 11 most recent journal entries recorded in the "valkyriesw" journal:
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09:23 pm
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LA Fix
I haven't been to LA since January. And I miss it. I use to go quite regularly--when my pookie was a college student. Then she gaduated and moved into a place on her own w/booboo and I don't go to LA so much anymore. I spose that's the natural course of things when pookies and boo boos grow up--they don't need you so much and they're having their own grown up kind of fun. I just miss getting regular hugs, crazy phone calls, and busy bathrooms. It's tough quitting this stuff cold turkey...am in withdrawals...cold shakes, sweats and nightmares. Not really the cold shakes, sweats, and nightmares...just in withdrawals after 20 some years of steady youth and vitality in my heart and home.
Great news--four of pookie and boo boo's friends are gaduating and am so proud! Yay! Congrats to all those brown-eyed beauties! That's you, Katie, Little one, Ronnie, and Jill! I love you this much <---8---> xoxoxoxo smoochie huggie
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06:24 pm
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To my beloved friends of Pooky
I love reading your postings. It makes me sad to think they don't come as often as when you were all students or under 25. Your thoughts gave me pause to think and reinvigorate my 50 + old ass. Keep writing when you can my precious ones. I love you all and keep you close to my heart. Pooky's friends are like that. They make you feel like you're a part of them. Which is probably why she is sooooo freaking loyal to them.
Today I'm pissed. I'm pissed that I have to look for things to do at the office, then get screwed in the ass when I absolutely need to do something w/george & bernie. I came home in a raging bitch mode only to find some stupid fuck parked crooked in the driveway with a mf... pickup truck and I had to carefully squeeze in just to park in front of the property I've paid for since 1986.
Then, my poor abused husband--Roberto aka Secret Santa makes me a cocktail and I begin to relax. I even walked in the yard and Franco kitty zoomed with delight. He is seriously the best garden kitty anyone could have.
Ryan--I love you and Gatsby. Those who want to do well, will.
Katie--I love your intelligencia--you rock and shall inherit the earth.
Boo-boo--Keep painting--and get on my ass for not...I shall embrace your grief every 18 January like a favorite sweater so we both don't get cold.
Pooky--rage on! You are still my best work to date.
Ti aimo voglio tutti--I love you all very much and always.
VM
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01:37 am
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A Tribute to the Cars in My Life Through the Years
Times sure have changed. Once upon a time a young person could buy a car for $500. I did.
I bought my very first car in September 1975, at the age of 19, after I returned from a one-year tour at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. It was a 1971 blue Plymouth--a sedan. It was a used car, from the Detroit Gas Company fleet and I paid $500 for it with some money I saved. My step-father worked at a car dealership and made sure it was running well. It had no air conditioning--just a heater and a AM/FM radio. It didn't matter. It was mine. I had AAA insurance and they gave me maps to use when I drove it down to Key West. I tooled up and down the Keys during the eight months I was stationed there and had a great time. It was a mush bucket--but it got me where I needed to go and I kept it clean and got regular oil changes. When I accepted orders to Operation Deep Freeze, I drove the Plymouth back up to Michigan in May 1976 with Robert. I gave the car to my brother Marc, who drove it until the paint started peeling off.
My next car was a 1974 chocolate brown metal flake Chevelle, which I bought on leave after my first deployment to Antarctica in April 1977. I paid $1,200 for it cash, having saved up during deployment. I loved that car. It had mag/rally wheels, AM/FM /cassette stereo, air conditioning, and could haul ass. It was a sport coupe with beige interior. I called her "Mama Cocoa," after a Gino Vannelli tune. Robert & I drove it from Detroit to Port Hueneme, California, stopping in Texas to visit my father. We had a great time! I discovered Route 66 and Death Valley along the way. I collected a few speeding tickets from the Port Hueneme/Oxnard Police Dept and paid them all. It put a crimp in my liberty money, but I learned to slow down eventually as I wanted to keep my license. Points and insurance costs were racking up fast! I put Mama Cocoa in storage during the next deployment to the "Ice" and brought her out after my return 6 months later. My Mom flew out to drive back to Michigan with me as I left the Navy after my first four-year hitch was up in March of 1978. We had fun driving back along Route 66, which was slowly being consumed by new super highway. After we returned to Motown, my beloved Mama Cocoa was smashed up in May 1978 when a tow truck decided not to stop behind me. The insurance company didn't total it--but it should've--Mama Cocoa wasn't the same. She suffered the same fate the following Spring in the pouring rain when we got clobbered by a hit and run driver in a pick-up truck. I was lucky to be alive. Mama Cocoa was hauled away to the junkyard. I was very sad for a while. To this day, I get excited whenever I see a vintage 1970's Chevelle. It brings back many sweet memories. Try as I have to find another, it can be replaced with something different, and yes, it is bothersome.
So then came a very cool 1977 white Pontiac Grand LeMans sport coupe with a plush red velor pillow cushion interior which Robert & I financed together in Spring 1978. It was our first major purchase as a couple, and we weren't married yet. We drove that thing to Texas in 1980 when I reenlisted on active duty. We paid the care off, drove the hell out of it, and sold it in 1983 with over 100,000 miles on the odometer. It was still going strong long afterward we hear. We shoulda kept her.
Our next cars were a 1983 Buick Skyhawk (blue) and 1984 Ford Thunderbird (Coke can red). We bought them brand-spanking new, off the lot. Both were purchased in Texas, and Robert drove both to Washington DC, which was my next duty assignment. It really sucked having two new car payments especially since soon after we became full-time parents with a baby. We managed to pay off the cars and keep them until 1991. While the cars were nice, they were a lot of headache and heartache because of the car payments, high maintenance, and accidents. Some cars are just snake bit that way.
Speaking of snake bit--there was my red 1990 Chevy Lumina which we bought in winter 1991. We learned our lesson and vowed never to buy new off the lot again. Used was the way to go again. It was a great car--then we took it to Italy where it got totaled in a rainstorm. Robert had a lovely dark gray Cadillac which he drove before we left for the Med, and gave it to Dawn as she needed a car. She traded it in for a Ford SUV while we were gone. While in Italy, we found a beat up green Mercedes that got us around thru the years.
Once back stateside in 2000, came a 1995 purple Chrysler Concorde, a 1995 light blue Chevy Corsica, and a 1995 blue Dodge Neon. The best running was the Chevy. We managed to keep all three running until 2004, when we replaced them with a 2002 red Ford Focus, a dark blue 2001 VW Golf, and a 2000 VW Golf.
Sad to say, we had to say goodbye to the "Little Man"--the 2001 Golf recently. He was a casualty of a bad smash up, and methinks my Pooky is as sad as I was when I lost my Mama Cocoa. I know it's not easy to lose something you love. Cars can become a part of one's personae. They're like relationships. Some are good. Some are bad. Some a freaking awesome and are the best of your life. Others are lemons or are snake bit. Then all you can do is either make lemonade or get first aid until your thirst is quenched, you heal, and move on to other things--just like we do when things change in life. With each car I've owned, rented or borrowed, I learned that what matters most is what we do with what we have--be grateful, take care of what we have and say thank you for the blessings.
Be safe out there, ya'll.
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01:23 am
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Sleepless in San Diego
It sucks when you can't sleep. My mind is racing like crazy--am trying to figure out why some things are why they are--especially when I did my best to do the right thing.
It's not self-pity. It's more like disappointment. The sweetness is gone. The optimism is gone. What happens to people you love is not easy to watch. Letting go is never easy. People choose what they choose. And it saddens me.
There is extreme darkness. I know not how to shine the light where there is darkness. I know not if the light wants to be seen and enjoyed for what it is.
Appreciation for what is and loving things for what they are. Expectations usually bring disappointment. Hope is better as it usually lets the light in.
If one is rigid like an oak tree, chances are it will be broken in a wind storm. If one is flexible like a palm tree, it will bend many different ways, but it will usually survive and remain standing. The shape of the palm gives it character and the palm thrives when the wind is calm and the sun shines another day.
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01:12 am
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journals
damn...why do I feel blocked whenever I try to write down my thoughts? methinks it's because of fear--fear of rejection, ridicule, criticism. like--what is a middle-aged woman doing posting her musings on a forum like this?
i need to get over it and just write.
peace and love to those who are near and dear to me...
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09:04 am
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Changes
No one likes change except a wet baby.
Change can be good, sweet and gentle. Or it can be tough and rough--violent even, with aftershocks that last a while.
What's important about change is how we respond to it and the eventual outcome. Even when we don't know what it will be. What matters is what we will be--to ourselves and those we love.
Sometimes it takes a while to change a wet diaper--and heal the occasional rash--and potty train.
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08:59 pm
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It's quiet on Donnington Way
It's not a bad thing, nor a good thing. It is what it is. Two middle-aged people sharing a quiet night in front of the TV w/a bowl of air-popped popcorn. Their favorite people are out conquering old and new frontiers with their wit, wits, intel & charm. It's a good feeling.
It's quiet on Donnington Way.
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08:25 pm
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Hear now, Summer is coming around again
I love summer. Warm nights. Lightning bugs or fire flies if you're from back East. Windows open to take in the sounds of night. Hot fun in the summer time. Hot fun, summer in the city. Summer time, and the living is easy. Summer concerts and long walks under the stars. Picnics. Dining on the patio. Puttering in my garden. The scent of sunscreen. The sights and sounds that bring back golden nuggets of sweet memories of a summer adventure or summer romance. A jump off a raft in the middle of a freshwater lake. Fishing lazily while drinking a beer.
This is a new Summer for me, my family. Commencement. Look up the word. It starts w/my brat walking to a tune few people know the words to--a tune I've loved since I was a kid. And this tune will be played for my brat. Hooyah! Watch out world, here she comes! She's some kinda woman!
This summer is also the start of a new chapter for my man and I! I am so stoked! I feel young and free in my spirit.
Hooyah!
Hear now, Summer is coming around again.
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09:00 pm
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Man my family drives me nutz
I hate the fact that my mother drives me crazy. I hate the fact that my husband and youngest daughter don't like her. I hate the fact that my mother doesn't like my husband and youngest daughter.
I hate going to visit family in Michigan and I'm by myself. I just fucking hate it. It's shit like this that makes wish I were fucking dead as a fucking door nail. I just don't fucking understand why my family of origin and my family of choice can't come to some sort of understanding each other and have fun. Whatever the fuck that is.
I'm just so goddamn tired of being a Russell in a Johnston world. OR is it that I'm a Johnston in a Russell world? Where the fuck am I?
I'm ready to crawl under a goddamn rock and stay there until I rot into nothingness.
Why do the people who are part of me rip me apart? This is fucking madness. SOmeone commit me quick before I slash my wrists into a bloody mess.
Current Mood:  angry
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11:09 am
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Sunday Musings
Dudes, don't you get it? If you continue to act like stupid fuckheads IRT relationships with REAL women, you won't have a quality relationship. Why would any intelligent, confident, independent thinking woman want to have a relationship with a fuckhead? What do you have to offer? Methinks N-O-T-H-I-N-G--NADA, ZERO, ZIP! Men who want to dominate women, be afraid. Be very afraid. And that goes for any man of any religion of any society. American women rock. You want us? Hah! You're better off killing us!
Okay. I'm okay. I do have a long-standing relationship with a cool dude. Robert. He is what is real in my life, in my family of choice. He is rare. A good find.
There is hope for any of you REAL women out there. Just be patient. It's like chasing butterflies--when you least expect it, they land on your shoulder. Good women do win.
Just keep it real.
These musings are dedicated to my Sunrae, Tater Tot, Kataluna, & their posses.
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09:39 pm
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Crazy mad
I'm not afraid to work. I have since I was 14 and babysitting for spending money. I busted my ass on active duty for 30 years.
So why does the job I have frustrate me so? I was so ready to walk out the door today. But I didn't. I could've play sick and left. But I didn't.
I felt like I was going to lose it. Somehow I managed to pull it all back together and worked through my anger and frustration and worked some more.
I was once called a workaholic. I loved work. I was driven. Now I hate it. Maybe it's because I'm uninspired. Could be the job. I'm looking for a new assignment within the firm. Am also going to look for another job with other firms. I should try patience--I've heard that it takes a while to find one's niche after serving a fulfilling role in the Navy.
Sometimes I feel like I have nothing to offer. That I'm a has been. I'm combatting that by taking courses to keep my mind sharp.
In the meantime, I hope I don't lose my mind.
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valkyriesw's journal