Today is day 2 of 2015 and it feels a lot like 2014 which felt a lot like 2013, which let's face it, was a lot like 2012. Going through the motions of each day, trying to figure out what matters and what doesn't. In the end, what really does matter? It's very easy to come to the conclusion that nothing you do or say really matters. Are people's lives really changed because I existed? While I can caress my ego and go all "It's a Wonderful Life", the fact of the matter is, in the overall scheme of things, I don't matter.

And so, here we are, starting 2015, another notch on the old bedpost of time, and I am wondering, what can I do that will make it all worthwhile and to whom am I accountable? You? Me? The world at large? I think this will be a year of introspect and discovery, getting to the heart of what matters, to me at least, so that this time next year I can say I did something that mattered and that 2015 was unlike any other year before.

This is the time of year when people reflect upon the past year and prepare for the new. My hair had an amazing 2014 as you can see by the photos above. It went through a lot of changes, long, short, brown, blond, red, brown, trying to figure out who it was and what the people around it wanted. Always trying to please every one else. My hair tries to be everything to everyone and is quite unsure of itself, much like the head it sits upon.

This hair and the body it occupies will be 40 in 2015, it will celebrate a 13 year wedding anniversary and a child of 11's birthday, and I am okay with the fact that it will begin to change getting a little grayer, a little thinner. This hair is a large part of my identity, easily changed to satisfy my mood or my style. I have never had either for very long, a pattern that has been repeated since I was 12 and I first got my hands on some Sun--In. When all else fails, I always have great hair.

I might leave it alone in 2015, just kind of let it grow and take shape, become it's own, find it's identity, not trying too hard to be liked, or needed or wanted. I'll let you know how that works out.

I'm outtie until next year. Gonna enjoy some time off, some time with family, some time where I don't have to worry about the rest of y'all and what yer doin' and sayin' and feelin' and all that crap.

Love ya, mean it.

The primary reason I started this blog was to get away from the blog clutter that had taken over my life. I was tired of what blogging had become and I needed an opportunity to say what I needed to say without fear of retribution or the dreaded "anonymous" comment. I had forgotten how long it takes to build a readership when you aren't constantly promoting yourself and you just let things happen organically. It's a very new feeling to be here with only 2 or 3 readers who show up on a regular basis. I feel like I'm failing, like nobody is listening. And then it kind of hit me like a truck. I spent so long not saying the things that I wanted to say I forgot how to say anything at all. This is how my day goes. I write, I read, I edit, I delete. I am afraid. But afraid of what? Not being accepted? Not being liked? Offending someone? Well guess what. Today I am throwing my hands up in the air and saying "Fuck it!" I am not a major publication. I don't have to vet my facts. I am not required to see all sides. Sometimes it's just my side and I want to speak it. Sometimes, I really don't want to see your side. It is really exhausting to have to filter every little thing all the time for fear of.....what? Being a human who says things?

It's been a week since Thanksgiving, and I bet you are just dying to know all about mine.

Growing up, holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter were full fledged family affairs. Someone hosted, everyone cooked and brought dishes pot luck style, everyone ate at a big table or two, conversated, laughed, ate some more. Kids ran around the front yard, back yard, upstairs downstairs, down the street, up the street. Dishes were done by all, naps were taken, movies watched. Those days were drama free and looked upon with great affection.

At some point though, people went all Martha Stewart and things got out of hand. Turkeys had to be perfectly glazed, and vegetables perfectly roasted. Cranberry sauce from a can was no longer acceptable. Tables contained cloth napkins folded into little turkey, craft tables and guided activities were set up for kids, and heaven forbid you ask your "guests" to assist with anything. It's exhausting and a chore. I don't like chores, not since, like, ever.

So that's why, for the last four years, we get Cracker Barrel for Turkey day and sit at home, in our PJ's, just the three of us. If you follow me on Instagram you might have seen the extras I cared to make because:

a. I like fresh cranberry sauce;
and b. nobody else in my house will touch the stuff.

What you didn't see was the big fat box that contained everything one needs for a happy day of anti-social isolation. Just the way I like it. I think Cracker Barrel should reconsider their marketing and call it Big Box of Eff All ya All, We're Staying Home in our PJ's. 

Any who, I hope you had a good holiday, Christmas is coming. Just a friendly reminder in case you were unawares.

p.s. The fresh cranberries I used to make the sauce were spoiled, except, I didn't know that. Thankfully, I am the only one in the house who ate them. I say thankfully because if 3 people were in the situation I found myself in we might have had to have the toxic waste clean up team to our house for the holiday. Carry on.

Just got finished reading a blog wherein the author is receiving long-term disability benefits from her employer, presumably until she dies, because she has Lupus. She went to court and she won, in her words "the right to continue to collect my long-term disability benefits, as contracted to me by my employer".

Because that's what all employers sign up for when they hire employees and offer them perks like health insurance and vacation days. Lifetime payout because someone happened to be on their clock when they contracted (or already had) a debilitating disease that will prohibit them from working for the rest of their lives. That's so awesome.  It's one thing to be injured or affected on the job and be unable to work, but this, this is just wrong.

There is a lot to be said on this subject I think, perhaps I might find the time to expand upon it. Next week, or next year. Who am I kidding? This post will probably be the only time I talk about it.

Politely decline requests that will take you away from family. 

Play more Christmas music.

Donate gently used items to a thrift store. 

Go Christmas caroling. 

Say thank you as often as possible.

Schedule a night to help another person or family.

Call someone you normally wouldn't to wish him or her a Merry Christmas.

Delegate some holiday preparations to children or other family members.

Trim the gift list.

Simplify a traditional activity.

Write down great memories as they happen.

Set and stick to a holiday budget.

Forgive a grudge.