Dirty Laundry

Yesterday, one of my life's darker secrets was splashed across the front page of both newspapers, after having been a top story on one of the news programs the evening before. My family's dirty laundry ended up being fodder for bored people with computers, who without knowing any of the facts, decided it was fair game to call my sister and I a long list of horrific names. I was called a slut, accused of engaging in sexual favors with the police department and also called evil, disrespectful, and money hungry - all by people who do not know me.

I have been told I need to get tougher skin, but truth be told, I am a wuss who takes it all to heart. Although, I don't think being upset over being publicly and unfairly attacked is out of line. My sister is much tougher than me, I've always wished I had her strength. The only silver lining of this entire event has been the people who told me they know me well and don't believe anything they've read.

To anyone who has read the stories and wondered, there is more to it than has been reported. It is a long, sad, and sordid tale that none of my siblings or I like to talk about. The truth will come out when this all goes to trial. It is sad that all along I have intended to have as little to do with this situation as possible... that was before I was publicly slandered and humiliated. I pray for God's blessing and that he will grant me the serenity that seems so far from my reach today. I pray that I will be calm and not wanting to repay the person responsible for this situation in the same manner - because she has far more to lose.

If you have read the papers, I ask that you keep an open mind. If you are familiar with my family's history, I ask that you keep an open heart for the person responsible. She is an addict who is in need of prayer and medical care. She is not going to win this case because her history of violence, drunken behavior, resisting arrest, and assaulting police officers has been well documented over the years. I feel sorry for her.

I would like to thank my colleagues in the media for not chasing this story too far. I am going to think positively that you have each decided that after 26 years, you know me well enough to know that I am not the type of person to engage in the actions described without due cause. I know that for some media organizations, they have not pursued the story because they are aware that my side is the truth, because they've experienced it firsthand while I was in their employ.

The person in question is in great denial and I hope that this final fall from grace will be enough for her to finally seek the help she so desperately needs. This situation affects my son and sadly, he, too, has also witnessed events firsthand. When he expresses his anger at the situation, I remind him that the person is ill and that we must pray for her so that one day, perhaps, we can all be together again. None of that changes the fact that my nearly eleven year old son is far wiser about alcoholism than he should ever of had to be.

May God bless us all.

Presenting.... Johnny Depp... wait. What???

I often say to people that "Presentation is everything," meaning that first impressions are important and food should have an appealing color combination when served. Obviously there are more applications than just those two, for example, a friend of mine recently decided to run for Senator and when it came time for her to have professional photos taken, I felt I had to say something about her hair.

Don't misunderstand me, my friend has glorious hair, its one of her best features, but her locks are also some of the wildest you'll ever see! She sports a headful of blond ringlets that burst forth from, framing her face in a cascade of curls. My friend has the kind of curls that other women pay hundreds of dollars for... but for the purpose of a professional "elect me as your Senator" type pictures, I thought she should try and wrassle it in to a bun or a style that was a bit more demure.

Do you see what I mean about presentation? Its the reason most of us keep our living rooms looking tidy while our bedrooms look like a typhoon just blasted through or why we take small bites of food on a first date instead of just shoving food down our throats as we normally would. But yesterday, I was thinking about some other popular adages, like "looks aren't everything," "don't judge a book by its cover," and "beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

This is all very confusing! Which is it? Is presentation important or only skin deep? And if the book has a crappy cover, is there a guarantee that the story inside will be worth the read? But most importantly, if looks don't matter, why can't I get a date? Or a mate? Is it fate? Or is he merely late? And if he is just late... will he look like the Mad Hatter when he finally arrives or (fingers crossed) Johnny Depp?

Wait. What was I going on about again? I went all Dr. Seuss on myself and forgot what I was talking about. Something about Johnny Depp...

I seem to have misplaced my Fairy Godmother

A good friend told me yesterday that he loves it when I'm bitchy, this on the heels of my complaining that I've been too harsh of late. Where is that fine line between the two? And once found, how do I keep from strangling myself with it? There's the question.

I've been telling myself that I am the innocent victim in a struggle against the double whammy of PMS and perimenopause. Nice theory, except I don't really think that's it. Unfortunately, I think I've just been really angry and disappointed with myself and shifting my attention from that fact by being a monster to anyone and everyone who crosses my path. (Well, THERE's a great way to make friends, eh?)

Speaking of making friends... the situation I referred to in my last entry sorted itself out in a positive way and all the cranky people (me) are friends again with everyone else. It has been such a relief to be free of animosity and hostility, which really can poison you if left to its own devices. The other happy side effect has been remembering what it feels like to be, if not happy, then at least not angry all the time. It feels a heckuva lot better than the alternative.

I have been trying to figure out how to hang on to that feeling while dealing with my being my own worst enemy. Like a lot of people, I have been dealt with some harsh blows in my life but unlike a lot of people, I have let them continue to beat me up over the days, weeks, and years. It is frequently said that talking about things is a big help, I have never found that to be true. Nor have I found that time heals all wounds.

Personally, I think that there are some things that you just don't get over. Some things you simply have to learn to coexist with and try to live a good life in spite of them. Certainly easier said/written than done. In fact, because it isn't easy, it often seems doubly unfair. Why should you be dealt a horrific hand and then have an even harder time trying to play it off? Of course, another popular saying is "Life isn't fair" and then some crap about not being promised a rose garden.

So how do you "get over it?" I thought I was doing okay, telling myself I'm a survivor and not a victim, which sounds great but would be even better if it was true. I think I gave up and gave in, which is hard to admit. Truth be told, I've been wasting far too many years of my life waiting for my Fairy Godmother to show up, wave her magic wand, and make everything all better. Trouble is while waiting, the situation has only disintegrated further.

So what do you do? You start over. That's one of the wonderfully reliable aspects of life, you can always start over. Oh sure, sometimes you'll be angry that you have to keep trying, but I have yet to meet someone who doesn't respect a person who keeps on keeping on. The person who gives up.... yeah, not so much.

One of the biblical scriptures I've tried to motivate myself with over the years is "God helps those who help themselves." I just neglected to see that this statement could have other interpretations. For the last five years I have been helping myself to whatever food was in the house, rather than making the effort to be healthy and fit. Well, God helped me alright. He designed a body for me that responds to that type of behavior by getting big.... really big... like my butt is "gi-normous" big!!!

Now I see my partly brown skinned boy with pasty white skin, getting cellulite on his belly and realizing he is following my example. I look in my medicine cabinet and see row after row of medications for blood pressure, cholesterol, and other ailments, all curable by improving my health with a bit of exercise.

Eventually, I get sick of myself and fortunately, am at that point now. So I'm going to get up off the couch, throw on some "tennies" and see what I can do about getting a little exercise and being healthier. But, if any of you see my Fairy Godmother - tell that bitch I'm looking for her!!!

God is Testing Me (Again)

Every now and then, I am privy to an occurrence that fortifies my belief in God and the truth in the words, "God is not sleeping!"

I have been in a rotten mood for several weeks, mostly because of a frustrating situation that has been beyond my power to control. (And fortunately, no one has had the stupidity to have said "Yes, but you can control how you react to it," because seriously, someone would have been smacked!)

It has even affected my desire to write for my blog. I didn't want my postings to be full of doom and gloom, but it has been next to impossible to come up with anything lighthearted.

It has been such a challenge to constantly take the high road in this situation, when what I've really wanted to do was veer off the road and run someone over. It also hasn't helped that I am not alone in this mess, which typically you'd think would mean that my misery has had company and that might be a good thing. Not in this case.

When you're frantically trying to keep your happy thoughts together as they go skittering and scattering across the room, the company of a similar mindset can often be counterproductive to the situation. I'm trying to tell myself "It's okay, let it go, let it go" while my partners are screaming, "Off with her head!!!" Next thing, I'm wielding an axe, roaming the premises with a crazed look in my eye! Not good, folks!

So while I have been mentally beating myself up for allowing this situation to get the better of me, God has been watching all along.

Over the weekend, I was told that the person who has been responsible for creating all this drama was going to bring it to a loud and potentially nasty end this morning. Not exactly an event to look forward to, but as I said, this has been out of my control and I've just been rolling with the punches. So, I show up this morning, ready to get punched and come to find out that God has indeed arranged for a beating... of the one who actually deserves it!

Can you imagine what it feels like, getting called to the carpet for what you think is about to be a tongue lashing, only to get an apology and a "good work" pat on the back instead? And as if that wasn't enough, the cake gets iced with some delicious "the guilty will be hang" frosting!!!

So, I have gone from desperately trying to remain calm and cheerful to desperately trying not to gloat and march around with my chest puffed out in vindication... not a very Christian display, but God does enjoy His jokes as He tests my resolve.

What a great way to start the week. I feel hopeful and in the best of spirits. If I get money today, then this day will have been perfect! Either way, it goes to show that trying to do the mature thing does pay off and that God is wide awake!

Guamville

My co-workers and I shared a laugh over the Governor of Guam receiving his first ever "Be my neighbor?" request from Farmville. It was inevitable that it would come and led to speculation about other Facebook pursuits the Governor could be participating in. Imagine if he was the head assassin in Mafia Wars or had the biggest eatery in Cafe World - it'd be hilarious!

Talk of Farmville inspired one co-worker to suggest we create a Guamville version of the game. It would take place on a beautiful island in the Pacific with a unique culture and way of doing things. (Sound familiar?) The rules would be a little different, but completely recognizable to anyone from Guam.

For example, all your plants, trees, and other produce would be from Guam, so your plots would be filled with breadfruit, bananas, palm trees, mangoes, taro, papaya, avocados, guava, and a variety of melons. Your animals would be goats, chickens, carabao, deer, pigs, horses, cows, and, of course, brown tree snakes.

C'mon, you gotta have brown tree snakes! By the way, this a perfect time to introduce one of those OOG (which in this case stands for Only On Guamville) rules. You must feed and care for your animals in a timely fashion, otherwise, the brown tree snakes multiply until your "lanchero" is infested and looks like something from of a statesider's nightmare, with brown tree snakes hanging from everything! Extra value points are given for every rhino beetle you find and kill!

Another OOG rule has to do with your chickens. You can click "stay" as many times as you like, but c'mon umbre, you know they're still gonna go wherever they want! They particularly seen to like the McDonald's in Hagatna for some reason, but you can only visit there if you selected Hagatna as your home village in the Guamville preferences. Otherwise you have to wait for a special occasion or for the fiesta in December.

Not all of the action in Guamville requires you to stay in your own village. There are certain times you can visit other villages, like during a fiesta, or at certain holidays and specific events. For example, all players can visit the Chamorro Village on Wednesdays provided you collect a minimum of five chenchule points from the vendors or the Dededo Flea Market on Saturday mornings.

Guamville would be so much fun to play! You could watch your family's house grow as you added on an outdoor kitchen, storm shutters (remember that you get the most points for installing the metal ones that slide in by piece, although the accordion shutters are also worth a lot of points), or by adding a canopy or tarp in your front yard to act as an extra covered parking for your truck.

Other ways to earn points would be by giving away chenchule coupons at christenings or when your neighbor's children get married, attending Mass on Sundays and the occasional Wednesday, and by how many times you manginge' your elders. Like earning extra value points for each deceased rhino beetle, players can score big by winning pugua points for playing Guamville for seven consecutive days!

You can also lose points, thereby becoming mamåhlao, this occurs when you forget to bring something to the party, you don't have any change for the offering basket at church, or an elder deskas your ear in front of all your friends. This happens when you forget to tie your dog up in the yard on the three foot chain.

I should finish writing down all my notes for Guamville and then contact Zynga. This could be bigger than the "I'm from Guam so that automatically makes me cooler than you" page!

Dream a little dream

A friend of mine passed away yesterday... he was only 58 years old, which I consider way too young to be moving on. John led a very full life in those few years, but still, he was far too young to leave us. I know that he had a lot more on his list that he hoped to accomplish in his lifetime, but when God calls you, it's time to go.

Another friend of mine also passed away less than a year ago. He was only 44 and, like John, seemed very healthy and vibrant. Roel's death was just as untimely, but hit close to home because he is younger than I am. Both men died of sudden heart attacks.

While speaking about John with media yesterday, I offered up copies of a story I'd written about John and his Pacific War Museum, which he created to honor his fellow Marines and the sacrifices they made for Guam during World War II. The story was published in Island Time magazine last year.

It didn't occur to me until this morning that I'd also written a story about Roel and his work as one of Guam's leading photographers, also for Island Time magazine. What freaked me out, was realizing this morning that both stories appeared in the same issue. I have a third friend who was also featured in that issue and have been wondering if I should casually call him up to make sure he's taking his vitamins and eating his Wheaties.

Instead, I have decided to take this for what it is, a coincidence but one I can learn from.

This morning, I went to the Guam Healthy Initiative office to sign up for the "Get up and move" program, which allows government employees to take three one-hour breaks each week to participate in a healthy pursuit, be it exercise or attending a wellness program. Another benefit we receive is that our health insurance company allows free gym membership to three different fitness centers as well as free participation in a wellness program run by a local clinic.

I have never had a job that offered such amazing incentives for living a healthier life and figure if I don't take advantage of this opportunity, I may well deserve the heart attack I am trying to avoid.

I think of my two dear friends, John and Roel, both of whom lived life to the fullest. I think about my dear cousin Mehrryn, who passed away at 17 years old, from cystic fibrosis, which runs in our family. I think of my friend Johnny, who passed away at 42 years of age.

It would be disrespectful to the memory of these people who all died so young not to live my own life to its fullest.

Another way to show respect to those we've lost too soon is to hold on to our dreams. In fact, we should chase our dreams to our dying day. John had a dream to build a museum where he could preserve an important part of Guahan's history so that future generations could learn about it, and through the sweat of his brow, he made that dream come true. I can't say that about myself.

As I've gotten older, I know I've set the dreams of my youth aside, citing the daily grind of making a living, caring for my son, and trying to be a grown up as the excuses for my choice.

But the truth is, living life to its fullest should include living the life you dream about. Our dreams keep us youthful, hopeful, and focused. So, I'm taking my dreams out of the closet, dusting them off, and letting them loose so I can chase them, catch them, and ultimately live the life I've always wanted.

After all, when you "rest in peace," shouldn't it be because you wore yourself living each day to its extreme?

Get off my virtual back!

I had lunch today with some girlfriends that I went to high school with. It was really great, one of those experiences where it feels as if very little time has passed, despite the years and years worth of catching up that was done. It's the camaraderie, that instant connection that you feel with a good friend who knows you well and vice versa.

Talk turned to Facebook, as it often does these days, with all parties agreeing that catching up with old friends is one of the best parts of the social network. Sometimes, though, we agreed that catching up with old friends on Facebook can be a real pain in the tookus!

Turns out two of us share a mutual friend, who feels it her civic duty to correct our online behavior and any perceived social faux pas committed on Facebook.

This would be fine if it was an occasional occurrence, but it seems to happen every time one of us expresses a passionate opinion or treads anywhere near a subject that is traditionally considered off limits, like religion or politics. Again, it would still be fine if our friend expressed herself and left it at that, but what typically happens is a non-stop barrage of posts or personal messages until the original Status entry is deleted - in a last ditch effort to make the pestering stop.

In truth, what often feels like bullying has frequently led me to consider cancelling my Facebook account, though truly, the fault is mine. I am the one succumbing to the onslaught of criticism and choosing to delete my apparently questionable posts.

I suppose my friend feels she is looking out for my best interests, though I am hardly a child. It reminds me of one of my aunts, who upon receiving a cheery email message, has been known to send it back with grammatical errors noted in red. I imagine she feels she is also doing a good turn. I honestly wouldn't know. I quit writing to her the second time she did it to me.

I think the reason it bothers me so much, in addition to the obvious, is that Facebook offers a simple remedy that doesn't involve chastising anyone. It's called the Hide button. If you are offended or put off in any way by someone's posts, you can hide them from your Newsfeed and Status Updates. You still have the freedom to go to that person's page by choice, instead of having all their posts automatically assault your eyes each time you log on.

I imagine another choice is simply to "unfriend" us. Seriously. If you are annoyed, offended, or traumatized in any way by my posts, which are usually just a reflection of what's on my mind, then perhaps we no longer have in common all that we once did.

One of my personal traits, which I've always thought was a pretty good one, is that I think everyone is entitled to their opinion. I may not always agree with yours, you may not always agree with mine, sometimes we will have to agree to disagree. However, I can promise you that if you post something on Facebook that I don't like or agree with, I won't badger you until you delete it or go mad.

The camaraderie at lunch today was wonderful, as being with people who know you well always is. People who know that you are outspoken, opinionated, and often more than just a little blunt. At least, I assume they all knew that, after all, we sat at that table for four long, delightful hours and no one berated any one, not even once.

True friendship. Being accepted for exactly who you are... there's nothing else like it, but, of course, that's just my opinion.

How to Become a Grumpy Old Fart (or, Sometimes I just want to smack somebody)

Lately, it seems like the smallest of things annoy me. I feel like I spend day after day being grumpy and out of sorts, it's not fun nor does it make me a fun person to be around. I have tried playing the menopause card in hopes of sympathy or understanding for my crabby behavior, but the truth is that I am still too young for that to be it (though I'm rapidly approaching, but let's leave that subject alone, shall we... don't want me to get annoyed, do you?).

I finally realized that what has changed and caused me to become a grumpy old harridan is time.

Sounds crazy (kind of like me lately) but think about it. Most of the things that tweak our last nerve are things that we used to shrug off. I think that's the problem, our history of shrugging! Over the years, we've been turning the other cheek, going with the flow, and trying not to rock the boat.

We've turned, gone, and avoided rocking until we're sick of it and are even more sick of pretending we don't mind. We do mind. In fact, sometimes, we mind a lot!

How many of us order pizza by phone? I bet we all do or have. What is typically the first thing the server asks you when they finally answer the phone? It's not "Hi, can I take your order?" No, it's usually "Could you kindly hold?" Wouldn't you love to say, "No. No, I cannot hold. I called, you answered, let's get on with it!"

How about people who don't switch their cell phones to vibrate in a movie theater? Listen, if you're so stupid that you can't figure out that the commercial that shows before the movie starts, the one that says to turn your cell phone off, means YOU, too, then you're probably too dumb to enjoy the movie to its fullest and shouldn't have been allowed in the theater in the first place.

It seems like simple courtesy has become an endangered species and as people get older, they realize that they are tired of being the one to take the higher road.

A few months ago I was in a large clothing store, in a hurry because I was on my lunch break, and there was a group of children running up and down the aisles, screaming at the top of their lungs, and bumping in to shoppers as they chased each other. There wasn't a parent in sight. I ignored these kids for about fifteen minutes before the grumpy old harridan in me surfaced.

"Where are your parents," I growled out in my best drill Sergeant voice. (I have never served a day in the military, but I must have in another life because I have that voice down pat!)

All five children skidded to a halt like their feet had hit a giant sheet of fly paper. "Our parents are over there, Miss," they stammered, obviously scared to death.

"Well, get yourselves over there, too," I growled, "before I call a security guard to escort you. Is this how your parents raised you? To be disrespectful in a store? Do you act like this in church, too?"

Oh, I can be really terrible!

But you know what? The rest of my shopping excursion was spent without a pack of wild hellions bumping in to me. Some people's kids, I tell ya'! (Though I must confess that I am not entirely sure yet if I am referring to those parents or my own here... I'll have to get back to you on that one.)

I want to be a nice person, like I used to be. I just need people to start being more courteous and respectful... otherwise, yes, I will tell your kids off in a store, I will be up front that I do not want to hold (especially when we both know you're going to be late delivering my pizza either way), and if you keep your cell phone turned on during my movie, it rings, you answer it and begin to have a conversation.... it's gonna get ugly up in here!

Let's just all be a little more respectful to one another. Is that too much to ask? Otherwise, I'm going to have to start tinting my hair blue or lavender... just like all the other grumpy old ladies.