Abuse from the customers is NOT part of the job

 DISCLAIMER: THIS POST DOES NOT REFLECT MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE COMPANY I WORK FOR OR MY BOSS. THIS POST IS REGARDING THE INDUSTRY AS A WHOLE AND MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES.

The title of this post should be clear enough for even a two year old to understand, but I am going to say it again for those of you in the back. ABUSE FROM THE CUSTOMERS IS NOT PART OF THE JOB! Yet here we are. Me writing and you reading. 

Some of you know me personally and know what I do for a living. Some of you don't, but they may change as this post goes live and hopefully gets shared. For those of you who don't, Hi! My name is Aimee. I'm a 48 year old, single mom. I am also a chef who currently works as the GM of a locally owned bbq restaurant in Dayton, OH as I work towards opening my own bakery and candy shop. 

I have been in and out of-mostly in-this industry for 35 years now and I have seen a lot of things, but nothing compares to the abuse that so many of us are experiencing. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I am damn good at it. But lately, I am beginning to wonder if I shouldn't have left the industry when we got shut down last year like so many others have done. This pandemic has put literally everyone into a tailspin of some sort, but those of us that work in the restaurant and bar industry are among the hardest hit. Not only were most of us unceremoniously put out of work, we have struggled to receive the unemployment benefits we were promised with many still not receiving a penny even after a year. As we have worked to reopen, the hurdles we have faced and tackled have been numerous. 

Not only have we had to limit our seating, causing a strain on already tight profit margins, we have had to install equipment meant to keep our staff and customers safe from the spread of the virus. We have had to purchase additional supplies that are in high demand and are facing food shortages with every truck order. We are dealing with people reporting us to the local health departments because some adults can't seem adhere to the health department mandates. We are being verbally, sometimes physically, assaulted for trying to follow the guidelines we are being forced to implement so we can continue to operate. Folks, our industry has never been an easy one, but it has gotten downright ugly. So ugly, that surveys are indicating that between 15 and 18% of last year's employees have left for good. And I don't blame them!

My restaurant is typically a pretty benign place to work. As far as restaurants go, I refer to it as a unicorn job. The prep work and cooking I do is pretty simple and goes quickly. My boss has created a menu that is fast and easy to execute from start to finish. No early mornings, no late nights. At my location, no Sundays. I have two days off in a row. I have never had to argue over a schedule request or beg someone to pick up a shift for me. The neighborhood we are located in is full of good people who are generally patient and friendly. Some even go out of their way to bring me a coffee or a doughnut in the mornings or drop off a quick bite to eat in the evenings. All in all, work life is pretty good. One would think life is good, right? Well, it's not that simple. 

Everyone is under a lot of added stress and pressure right now because of COVID-19. Most people understand this and are accepting of all the extra safety precautions we have to follow and the menu outages we are experiencing, along with any other number of slight inconveniences we are all dealing with right now. But there are a handful of people that I refer to as the overly indulgent, self-important nobodies that think they are the only ones in the universe that matter. Their time and needs are above everyone else's and they view anything less than what they want as a personal insult. These people are making our lives hell day in and day out. 

We are being yelled at, cussed out, called names, threatened and harassed as we never have before and it's taking a toll on us. Mentally and physically. Some people are also being physically harmed. And there is no reason for this behavior other than the simple fact that some people have forgotten how to be compassionate human beings. This pandemic has brought out the best in some people, but in many more cases, it has brought out the worst. People have become short tempered, rude, hateful and downright disrespectful and it sickens me. I am absolutely disgusted by the behavior I have endured and that I see others have to endure. I have been begging people all along to simply be kind, but apparently that's too hard for some. 

Last night, I came home from work angry and fed up at the way I have been treated. I was ready to drop the proverbially match and walk away. Walk away from the industry that I have been apart of for nearly 75% of my life. The industry that I have given so much of my blood, sweat and tears for. The industry that has become the very core of my being, my soul. The industry that has made me into the woman I am today. All because some people refuse to be nice. Yes, I get it. Life is difficult right now. You're not the only one facing hard times. WE ALL ARE. Yes, you are not special. But is it really necessary to tear someone else down so you can feel better about yourself? 

I won't go into detail about all of the nasty things I have had to deal with over the past year. I don't think any of us have enough free time for that. Here are some of the lowlights. And I want you to ask yourself as you read through this list of customer inflicted abuse, is it really necessary to tear someone else down so you can feel better about yourself...

One day, a man came in and asked me if I knew why I was wearing a mask. Being the smart ass that I am, I quipped that I was wearing it because I didn't have a choice. I was wearing it out of respect for my boss and for his business. I followed this up with, "yes, I do know why I am wearing this mask". I was then subjected to a 15 minute diatribe about how I am going to hell because my faith isn't strong enough and I don't believe the same he does. Yes-a customer straight up told me that I was going to hell. 

Another customer called to place a carryout order during a busy Saturday evening dinner rush. A large carryout order. Like, so large, he should have called earlier in the day to ensure we had everything he wanted large. After requesting a quart of mac and cheese and being told that I did not have that much currently ready, he yelled to his wife to see what else she wanted and didn't bother to move the phone away from his mouth while doing so. Thanks for the busted eardrum, buddy! He asked how long it would be for a quart and I said about 20 minutes. He responded with fine, we can wait. I finished taking his order and told him his food would be ready for pickup in 25 minutes, allowing extra time to package everything up. He shows up ten minutes later and throws a tantrum because his order isn't ready yet. "We've already waited a half an hour, I don't understand how it isn't ready yet! You told meeeeeeee twenty minutes". He then proceeds to request an extra side of all 6 of our sauces but he doesn't want to pay for them. "I am stuck waiting on you, the least you can do is give it to me for free". I assured him he has plenty of sauce and think to myself, "No, the least I can do is kick your entitled ass out the door without your food", but instead, I give him his total and send him back home. Without extra sauce.

I have had customers berate me when we run out of ribs on rib night when they wait until the last minute to come in to eat. I have had customers yell at me because our menu prices are higher than they were in the past. I have been bitched at about the mask policy. People throw a tantrum over wearing a mask, people throw a fit if they see someone not wearing a mask. I had someone try to bring beer in with him to drink with his dinner and get nasty when I told him no. I have impatient Door Dashers who think it is ok to grab orders from the counter when I am working with another guest. I have people call and bitch that they can't get through at another company location, like there is some mysterious power I hold over that location where I can make them drop everything else and tend to this person's phone call. This list of abuse goes on and on, but I think I have said enough to prove my point.

I will be the first to admit that I am no saint. There are times I am not as friendly or warm as I should be with a guest because the bad behavior of another has momentarily put me in a bad mood. However, by the end of the transaction, I am laughing and joking with them and the experience has completely turned around. I try to approach every day as a new adventure no matter how sore or tired I am or how badly I want to stay at home and do something, anything else other than work. And believe me when I say I am tired and sore every day these days. Working longer hours, prepping more food and running around more than usual is taking its toll on this old lady. Some days, I am lucky if I am able to steal a bite of food between customers, let along take two minutes to stop and pee. I can't remember the last time I ate a hot meal from start to finish. The demands being placed on restaurant staff is at an all time high while we are operating with very limited resources. Please excuse me if I'm not Little Mary Sunshine all day, every day, but I am only a single human being.

Many industries are currently experiencing a labor shortage, but no one is suffering like us food people are. It has been estimated that between 15 and 18% have left the industry for good. Yes-I know I am repeating myself. It's for a good reason. Some are still on unemployment since there place of business hasn't reopened yet or is still operating under limited capacity. Many left during last year's shutdown for other jobs or to go to work for themselves, following their passions. More are choosing to leave because of the toxic atmosphere that many bars and restaurants have become. Some of this toxicity comes from the hands of ownership and management, while the vast majority is coming from the customers. If you had a job that historically pays crappy wages, why would you stick around when the people you serve starting treating you like you're less than nothing? It's not a difficult decision for many to make.

As I have already stated-abuse from the customers is not part of the job. It never should have been and it never should be. In the past, it was an uncommon occurrence. Now, it's happening daily. I am ever so thankful for the customers who understand we are struggling and approach us with patience, empathy and a kind word. You are the people that keep us coming back to work day in and day out. Thank you for being your awesome, wonderful selves. And if you happen to see yourself in my less than flattering words, I implore you to do better. BE BETTER. And if you choose not to, keep your ass at home and stop spreading misery. I honestly feel that the worst is yet to come as more people leave our industry for other ventures. And some of you only have yourselves to blame. We are not your punching bags and one day, we are going to start fighting back. 

I am going to keep on keeping on. I will continue to go to work and do what I do best. I take pride in being as tough as nails and not backing down from a challenge. I'm a bad ass and I know it. I wouldn't have made it this far in an industry that chews people up and spits them out if I wasn't. But if the day comes that I do walk away, just know it was some disrespectful asshole that finally pushed me over the edge. Please don't be that person. I'm going to ask it one more time, is it really necessary to tear someone else down so you can feel better about yourself? Abuse from the customers is not a part of our job. It is unneeded. It is unwanted. It is not helpful. IT IS DISGRACEFUL.

Failing Miserably

 WOW! I started this blog back in 2016 as a way to keep my creative juices flowing, and it worked briefly. I started a 30 day writing challenge and actually followed through with a few prompts. Then I tackled a handful of personal topics. Then. Crickets. 

Several times over the course of the last 4 years something has happened and I thought to myself "I need to write about that" but I never did. And that's a true shame because some really good-and bad-things have happened. But I'm here now, through it all. Ready to try again. I'm not promising a daily post, although I would like to. I'm not even promising a weekly post even though that's much more attainable. But I am promising a lot more musings than I have shared over the last four years. 

Buckle up bitches-it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

To the one I pushed away

To the one I pushed away, I am sorry. So very, truly, deeply sorry.

You stood by me while I let others walk all over me. I never realized just how true, how pure your feelings were. You tried so hard to be the one I wanted, the one I fell for. But somehow, you always came up just a little bit short.

Looking back, I realize how terribly I treated you and I am genuinely sorry. We've discussed going back in time and you said you'd do it if you could have today's brain in yesterday's body. I said I would never go back. Well, I lied. Yesterday's body with today's heart. Yes, so I could see and truly appreciate what you tried so valiantly to be.

I know there were other outside forces working against us. But if I could have just pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see. Over the years, I've both loved and hated you. More than once, I felt betrayed by you. Yet somehow through it all, after all these years, I can once again call you my friend. I wish we had never parted ways, but if we hadn't, would you being in my life now mean as much as it does?

All I know is that you're here now. And here is where I will hope you will stay. Yet I don't know if that's possible. Once again, so many outside factors could easily pull us apart. If that's what is meant to be, then that is what is meant to be. But for some crazy reason, I feel like this time might be different. Maybe its just my tipsy, maudlin heart crying out to be loved. Maybe its more. Possibly, much less.

It's not about words, it's about actions

PREFACE: Current events have my head spinning right now. I have so many things I want to say, but I can't keep them straight in my brain. I want to reply to individual posts on Facebook, but I would just make myself crazy trying to do that. And to be honest, it would fall on deaf ears in many cases. By making this post public, I am putting myself out there to be scrutinized in a way I never have before. Some of you will look at me in a completely different light-for better and for worse. I hope this doesn't color the opinion of the people that matter most to me, but if it does, I guess they weren't the people I thought they were. But if my words, this post, can touch just one person deep down in their soul and help them to realize the flaw in their mentality, then it will be worth it.  

I suffer from a mental illness called borderline personality disorder. I'm not sure when exactly it manifested itself in me, but looking back, I exhibited traits as early as my high school years. It may go back even earlier, I am not sure. It is not a diagnosis to be taken lightly. For some it leads to shame, self doubt, depression-the worsening of symptoms present in so many that suffer from it. For me, it was an epiphany. Finally, I had a name for the demon that dwells inside of me. Instead of hiding my illness in shame, I embrace it as best as I can. I am very upfront and outspoken about my diagnosis, trying to shed a light on something that many see as shameful. I try and use it as a tool, teaching others about my disease and hoping to open their eyes and show them that all is not always as it seems.

For those who know nothing of this mental illness, borderline personality disorder is defined as a long term pattern of abnormal behavior characterized by unstable relationships with other people, unstable sense of self and unstable emotions. Sufferers often have a fear of abandonment, frequent dangerous behaviors, a feeling of emptiness and self harm. Drug and alcohol abuse are prevalent in sufferers, as are eating disorders and depression. Impulse control is another sign of borderline personality disorder. It is believed that 25% of those who suffer from BPD engage in sexually impulsive behaviors. I am but one of that 25%. Those of us who struggle with BPD and sexual impulsivity have a higher likelihood of becoming a victim of sexual coercion, date rape and being raped by a stranger. Why I am I revealing all of this now? Well, the media explosion about Donald Trump, his "locker room talk" and purported instances of sexual assault have my head absolutely spinning right now. I have seen so many deeply offensive, ignorant and ridiculous posts on Facebook these last few days that I felt that I had to respond in some fashion. Replying to each and every post would be entirely too time-consuming and I am sure the personal attacks would be immediate and harsh. I feel that responding in this way is the better-and longer lasting-alternative. This post is not meant to be a commentary about this year's presidential election nor is it meant to be a character assassination of Donald Trump. It also does not mean that I support Hillary Clinton. For the record, I am appalled at both of our major candidates and less than enthused about the two minor ones. This is simply my story of illness, sexual assault and why we as a nation need to re-evaluate our attitudes and behaviors about "boys being boys".

Trump: “I’ve gotta use some Tic Tacs, just in case I start kissing her. You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star they let you do it. You can do anything.” 
Bush: “Whatever you want.” 
Trump: “Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”

Last Friday, a "hot mic" conversation that took place 11 years ago between Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump and newsman Billy Bush was released to the public. Some are up in arms over the terminology Trump used. Personally, I could care less that he used the word "pussy" during the conversation. I have said worse for years and will continue to do so. I am a chef. I work in an industry dominated by men. I learned to have a thick skin and words rarely set me off. The words pussy, twat and cunt come out of my mouth on a regular basis. Crude? Yes. Rude? Yes. Disgusting? To most, yes. But my vocabulary is what is it. I will not apologize for being what I am. What does bother me is that Trump basically admitted to getting away with sexual assault because of who he is. "I don't even wait". Read those words carefully: I DON'T EVEN WAIT. The United States Department of Justice describes sexual assault as any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient. I DON'T EVEN WAIT. When you pair Trump's words with the definition of sexual assault, you have a clear cut admission of him sexually assaulting women.

A lot of men-women, too-are guilty of sexual assault. Hell, following the letter of the law, I have assaulted a number of men because I didn't have their specific consent before touching them. But there is a world of difference between a flirtatious butt grab and using your wealth and status to kiss and grope someone. I have also apologized when my behavior has made someone uncomfortable and refrained from doing the same in the future. Some cases are obvious assaults while I believe some are misunderstandings. What really pisses me off is that Trump's behavior is deliberate and people are standing up for him! For all I care, it could be Joe Schmo who admitted his sexual assault and I would be just as pissed. Did you read that last sentence? I WOULD BE JUST AS PISSED. The only reason I am using Trump's name specifically is that this interview has put our society's bullshit attitudes about sexual assault in the national spotlight. You may be asking yourself what does all of this have to do with borderline personality disorder, sexual promiscuity and sexual assault? I'm getting there. Be patient.

As I stated before, I suffer from BPD. I am one of the 25% where it manifests itself in sexually promiscuous behavior. My illness has on more than one occasion led me into very dangerous situations. Situations where I am at a higher likelihood of becoming a victim of sexual coercion, date rape and being raped by a stranger. SITUATIONS WHERE I HAVE BEEN SEXUALLY COERCED AND HAVE ALLOWED MYSELF TO BECOME A VICTIM OF DATE RAPE. While my scars are mental and not physical, I carry the scars of this assault with me all the same. I know that I am exceedingly lucky to have walked away with my life. So many women before me have not, and many more after me will not.

So many women are the victims of sexual assault in so many different ways. My assault took place in 1994. I was working as a stripper at the time and went out with a number of co-workers after our bar closed. Included in this group was one of the bouncers. One of the men whose job it was to keep us safe. Well, that cold winter night, I was anything but safe with him. The alcohol was flowing freely and inhibitions were lowered. What was intended to be nothing more than a hot and heavy makeout session quickly went south as my repeated utterances of "no", "I don't want to" and "stop, please" went ignored as he pushed his way into my body. At the time, I weighed all of 120 pounds to his 200+ pounds of mostly muscle. My feeble attempts to physically make him stop were easily thwarted and I became a victim of date rape. I had been sexually assaulted. Some of you may blame me for what happened, and in some way you are partially right. I allowed myself to get into a situation that spun out of control. However, no means no. NO MOTHER FUCKING MEANS NO! Some of you may blame me for going out with him in the first place. Some of you may say I never should have gotten drunk. Some of you will say it was ok to treat me this way since I worked as a stripper. Some of you will say it is ok because I engaged in sexual activity in the first place. NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Those attitudes are just one of the many things wrong with this country. And why so many people are upset about the support being show to Donald Trump even after he admitted to sexually assaulting women. And why so many people are pissed off that Brock Turner got off with a sentence so light it fails to register as a slap on the wrist.

It is not Donald Trump's words that have so many people upset. It is his actions. His inability to see what he has done as wrong. It is the acceptance of such behavior by so any in this nation and the defense of it as "boys will be boys". Every time someone trivializes this kind of behavior, it trivializes what so any women have had to endure. What I have had to endure. It stops our healing, it cuts open old wounds, it makes fresh wounds bleed even longer.

• I see people posting memes that compare Trump's words to 50 Shades of Grey. I can't believe that some of my friends are so ignorant as to fall for that whitewash bullshit. Like I have repeatedly stated, it is not the words but the actions that have sparked the outrage in me and in so many others. 50 Shades of Grey is poorly written Twilight fan fiction. It is a guilty pleasure, an indulgence for many. It is not the real world people. It is fucking fantasy. Some people find BDSM titillating, myself included. I fail to see how anyone could find outright sexual assault as such. In this case, WORDS DON'T HURT PEOPLE, ACTIONS DO! 
• Some people are trying to shift the blame to over the top, sexually suggestive female performers such as Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Amy Schumer and Sarah Silverman. This, too is a load of bullshit. I don't care how a woman dresses, how provocatively she performs on stage or how vulgar her comedic routine is. These are never excuses for sexual assault. Women are not the cause of the rape culture that is so blatant in our society. Allowing men to use bullshit excuses and handing out bullshit punishments are. 
• Others are using Bill Clinton's behavior while in office as an attempt to deflect the negative press from Trump. Clinton is no better than Trump, and trying to shift the blame from one to the other once again defeats the purpose of our moral outrage. This is not specifically ABOUT Trump, it is about the rape culture that permeates our society. Once again, you are trivializing sexual assault. 
• Some are trying to minimize the impact by shifting the blame away from men to women by making comments about how women talk when they get together. I must repeat myself-it is NOT THE WORDS BUT THE ACTIONS. Yeah, I cuss like a sailor and probably one of the most vulgar people I know. In a way, I wear that as a badge of my honor. But you know what, my foul mouth does not mean I engage in foul behavior. And I have never once used my position of power to sexually take advantage of a man. 

Does any of this make sense to you? I was sexually assaulted-a victim of date rape. Every time our society minimizes a woman's legitimate sexual assault, it minimizes the worth of the women within our society. It deeply disturbs me that so many men-and especially women-I know are ok with this behavior for the sole reason that it is the candidate they adore who just so happened to get thrust into this controversy. You have not realized until the moment you began reading this blog post that your words supporting this kind of behavior have cut your friend so deeply to the bone. Instead of hopping on the political bandwagon, try taking a small step back and looking at the entire picture. This is NOT about Donald Trump. This is NOT about this election cycle. This is NOT about Brock Turner. This is NOT about Bill Clinton. THIS IS ABOUT HOW FUCKING VILE OUR NATION HAS BECOME WHEN OUR MEMBERS OF SOCIETY ARE SUBJECTED TO BEING VIOLATED AND PEOPLE ARE OK WITH IT, THEY FUCKING DEFEND IT, THEY BRAG ABOUT IT AND SO MANY TURN A BLIND EYE TO IT!

I have never once spoken to anyone about the events that took place on that cold winter night in 1994. In part, I am somewhat responsible for what happened and I have always felt that that was my cross to carry. I never intended it to be a secret, but it remained one for a long time, up until now. I am not ashamed of it as so any are, it has just never been a conversational topic I felt the need to bring up. All of the events of the last few days ignited a fire in my soul that I could no longer contain. I am furious that so many people I know and associate are so willfully ignorant and easily casting aside a topic that so badly needs to be addressed by our society. Sexual assault is never ok. Period. End of story. This is not about politics. This is about stealing another's dignity, self worth, a part of their soul. And fuck you if you can't understand that!

A reason, a season, a lifetime

The old saying a reason, a season or a lifetime is resonating through my brain for some reason this morning. If you are unfamiliar with it, please read the photo I added to this post for a bit of clarity. It states that "People come into our life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime." By and large, I do believe this to be true. Some people are meant to be in your life for a brief moment, a quick blip of the radar screen of life while others are meant to be there for the long haul. Some blow in like a summer storm and breeze back out just as quickly. A reason. A season. A lifetime. Up until today, it has just been saying, having no real substance in the grand scheme of my life. I believe it is the re-emergence of some people from my past that has the saying suddenly at the front and center of my mind.

A REASON
Some people have crossed my path for the sole purpose of teaching me a lesson. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always a learning experience. Last night I received a message from the ghost of boyfriends past. Someone I had a fling with years and years ago that I tried reconciling with over the summer. His reason? I believe the reason he entered my life again was to teach me the value of honesty and being truthful, especially with myself. I have always valued honesty in all of my relationships, but for my closest loved ones, it is vital. However, I have always struggled to maintain complete honesty with myself. I tell myself that I am ok being single. And I am. But deep down, I want that someone special to come into my life and share the up's and down's and everything in between's.

The short time we were together this summer was packed with lies. Little white ones and huge grand daddy whopper ones. Fortunately, I caught on quickly and ended things as fast as they started. The last couple months have been filled with silence until he suddenly sent me a message last night. Not wanting to hear any more lies or excuses I hit the delete button and asked a mutual friend to tell him that I wanted no contact with him. It seems that he is now suffering from brain cancer. Maybe he wants to right his wrongs. But I doubt it. Two of the three pictures he posted of his "tumor" were lifted from the internet. Yeah, so much for atonement.

Honesty...

Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard, and mostly what I need from you

Aahhh, Good old Billy Joel. Singer, piano player and lyricist extraordinaire. Honesty is what I need most from myself and from others. It may be cold and brutal at times, but I would rather hurt for a moment than suffer a lifetime of scars.

A SEASON
Longer than a reason but shorter than a lifetime. Therein lies "the season". Seasonal people may literally be a part of your life for just a season, but some stick around for a longer span of time. I believe they also enter one's life to teach a lesson, but their teachings are a lot less in your face or blunt as the "reasons" are. These lessons require more time and detail to learn and fully appreciate. Seasons are the mentors, the tutors, the teachers. I am a chef by trade and have learned so many wonderful lessons from so many knowledgeable people in my vocation. These people make up the bulk of my seasons. I have worked side by side with many seasons, learning the craft and soaking up their knowledge. Just last weekend, I found myself being another cook's season. It was a wonderful moment when I realized that the lessons I have learned in the kitchen were being passed on to the next generation.

I have worn the title of "manager" or "chef" for a number of years now and it has always felt a little uncomfortable to me. I have no formal degree in either, instead learning directly from others and through trial and error on my own. And let me tell you, there have been some momentous errors along the way, both in my approach to managing others and in cooking technique. While I rarely seek out the manager title, it often gets bestowed upon me and I am learning to accept it. Will I ever truly be comfortable with it? Probably not, but que sera, sera. The only true part of being the leader that I truly embrace is the sharing of the knowledge I have collected along the way. For me, the 29 years I have spent in the kitchen has been worth every drop of blood, sweat and tear shed since it means I get to be someone else's season and teach them the lessons I have learned. If only one person I have helped moves on to a leadership position and continues the cycle of learning, my time will have been well spent. To all my seasons, I thank you and hope our paths will cross again one day!

A LIFETIME
This one may seem obvious to most of you. A lifetime is a person who has been there from the start, yes? Not always. My lifetimes have run the gamut of time spent in my life. They need not necessarily be a physical presence from beginning to end to be a "lifetime". It is how deeply they touch the heart that makes someone a lifetime in my eyes. Some of my lifetimes are actually fairly recent additions to my life, while others made an early exit from my existence.

I lost my mother at the age of 15 and my father at age 24. They are hands down the greatest influences on my life, as parents usually are, but for vastly different reasons. My mother was a harsh, cruel woman with narcissistic tendencies and a propensity for abuse. Harsh words were routinely spoken and punishments swift and severe. It has not been easy, but I am one of the lucky few who have been able to overcome the cycle of abuse and I use her words and actions daily to be a better parent to my children. Not every lesson learned from my mother was bad, though. She did teach me the love of cooking and reading. Those two skills have carried me further in my life than anything else ever could have. For everything bad my mother said or did, my father desperately tried to compensate for. He was not an emotional or affectionate man, so the smallest gesture from him was a huge deal to me. He taught me the value of hard work and what it means to go above and beyond what is expected. He nurtured my creative side and urged me to pursue my passions, however fleeting they were. While my parents couldn't have been any more opposite of each other, the lessons they taught me will most certainly last my lifetime and I hope some of those will linger through future generations of my family.

A more recent addition to my lifetimers is a friend and former roommate of mine. We met at work and hit it off from the start, but I kept her at arm's length, as I usually do with people. Even while we lived together, I tried to maintain a certain amount of space between us. She saw me at my best and at my worst, but she never saw all of me. She still hasn't, but I am working on that. I was recently a bridesmaid in her wedding and that was such an eye-opening experience for me. I have been a member in other wedding parties, but hers was different. I have never played well with other females, preferring the company of men, but she has taught me the value of a strong female focused friendship. I have started letting my down and letting more women into my inner circle and I am finding myself a better person for it. She may have entered my life later than most, but her influence has most certainly been far reaching.

At any given time in our lives, we are somebody's reason, season or lifetime. I have learned that this is how we grow and become better people. Some of us learn the lessons we need in order to live a happier, more enriched life. Some will keep their eyes closed to the very lessons they need to learn. My request to all of you is to please open your eyes and hearts to the lessons surrounding you every day and try to make the most of them. We will all be better people for it. If you find yourself in the position of being the teacher, try to teach gently and kindly, with patience and compassion. Life is hard and it teaches us some very harsh truths. Try to buffer these harsh realities with strength in your convictions, truth in your words and love in your hearts.

A book I love and one I didn't

Aahhhh reading. One of my favorite hobbies that I don't indulge

in nearly enough anymore. It used to be that I would make biweekly trips to the library and never come home with less than a dozen books. As a child, I always read at least 4 grade levels above where I was and it was nothing for me to devour a novel in a matter of a day. My teachers loved me and I drove my mother insane with my choices. The day I brought home Helter Skelter in fifth grade is the day I think I almost caused her to have a stroke. My library privileges were nearly stripped away that evening. I had to promise not to bring home any more books on murderers and my father had to promise to keep a closer eye on my reading selections. Neither of us kept our promise, I just became sneaky about bringing my books into the house and my dad knowingly turned a blind eye.

Years upon years and books upon books have created a list of perennial favorites as well as a list of utter bombs. Books that I love and books that I hate. Ask me my favorite movie or song and I would tell you it depends on my mood, but I could easily give you my preferred genre. Ask me my favorite book and I will immediately blurt out "The Great Gatsby", yet I wouldn't be able to pick a favorite genre of book. Weird, right? What's really odd, is that I didn't used tonlike this book.

I originally read The Great Gatsby in high school and I wasn't a fan. Most likely because I had to read it to soak up every last detail in case of quizzes and not for my own personal reading pleasure. These days, I pick up my battered copy and read it cover to cover at least once a year. In fact, my love for Gatsby led me to read all of Fitzgerald's novels and short stories. To me, none of them compare to his magnum opus, but they are pretty good reads, as well.

For those of you not familiar with the book, The Great Gatsby is a tale of friendship, romance and tragedy. Since this isn't a book report, I won't go into all of the details. However, I will explain why I enjoy this book so much. First of all, I feel that the characters are intelligently written. They all have good and bad residing within them, which brings a true sense of humanity to the book. Fitzgerald also does a beautiful job writing in the background details for all other major players. The setting for the book is described in good detail and really sucked me into the story. Jazz age America was a selfish, hedonistic time and Fitzgerald does a brilliant job of letting the reader see that. The symbolism is subtle and most readers will be sure to pick up on it. All in all, I find The Great Gatsby to be a well written book about a bygone era.

Now, for a book that I didn't love... Immediately Bram Stoker's "Dracula" comes to mind. I read this book the summer after I graduated from high school and I really wanted to enjoy it. Instead, I walked away from it on numerous occasions before I finally took several days and forced myself to read it cover to cover.

I was truly surprised by how much I disliked this book. I love the horror genre, I immensely enjoy classic literature and the early 90's movie based off of this book is one of my favorites. So what was it about Dracula that I found so dreadful? Simply put, it moved way too slow for me. The characters are well written, the story itself is a great one, the setting and attention to detail are superb. I just found this to be a slow and ponderous read. It may be one of the greatest horror novels of all time, but it just wasn't meant for me. If you have ever wanted to read Stoker's classic vampire tale, please do not let my assessment stop you. It may very well become one of your favorites.

So what books do you guys love and what ones do you hate? I am getting ready to set up a new blog, a book blog, and would love to hear your opinions! There's a very good chance that I will be using your suggestions for upcoming book reviews.

What tattoos I have and what special meaning they have

Tattoos have always fascinated me. They speak to my rebellious, artistic side. Loudly!!! I don't remember when I first decided to adorn myself with ink, but it had to have been fairly early in my life. It seems that I was always in trouble for writing and drawing on myself and my clothes.

I remember talking with my father about getting my first tattoo done. I had gone with a friend and watched while she got her first one done. I was entranced and I wanted one, too. I had no clue what I wanted and we discussed the options. It was decided that when the time came, dear old dad would accompany me to get it done. Unfortunately, that day never came. He passed away before I could get my first tattoo done. It wasn't until after the insurance company had settled out his life insurance policy did I get my first tattoo done.

The day I received my check was the day I decided I was finally getting my tattoo done and it was to be in memory of him. His favorite color was blue, so I chose a blue rose surrounded by Celtic vinework and leaves. It was excruciating for me to sit still and wait as the needle rhythmically placed colored ink beneath my skin. Not because it hurt, because the pain was almost nonexistent, but because it was torture for me to still while it was being done. Afterwards, as I inspected my new artwork in the mirror, I felt a tinge of sadness as I remembered who was supposed to be with me at that moment. It hurt me deeply that my father wasn't there, but at the same time, I felt there was no higher honor than choosing my first tat in his memory.

My second tattoo also holds a very special meaning for me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I suffer from BPD (borderline personality disorder). One of the symptoms, for a lack of a better word for it, is cutting. I have been a cutter since junior high school and my arms bear numerous scars from my turbulent past. I haven't cut into my flesh in nearly 3 1/2 years, but there have been a handful of times that I wanted to. As a way of reminding myself to be stronger than my illness, I got the word "fighter" tattooed amongst the scars on my left wrist. It is my way of telling myself that I am able to fight through the pain in my head and my heart and inflict more pain on my body. So far, it has served its purpose perfectly. It has the added bonus of being a conversation starter. Numerous people have asked me its significance and I am not shy about admitting my illness to anyone. It is a part of who I am, and if my tattoo can help someone else come to terms with themselves, it is worth it.

In addition to the blue rose honoring my father, I plan on getting a similar rose in honor of each of my children in their favorite colors. Pink for Emily, purple for Abby, orange for Chris and yellow for Michael. And to honor myself, I am planning on getting a chef sleeve done. Yes, I know it pretty much seals my fate as being a cook for the rest of my life. But I'm OK with that. Its what I do and its what I'm passionate about.