I’m weird

What is one word that describes you?

This question made me smile. I’ve felt weird my whole life. I made up a club called the Weird Happys (sic.) in middle school and invited all my interesting, smart, non-traditional friends to join.

I’m a weird donkey who escaped after dinner.

I’ve always been weird, non-standard and rather off center. That’s never been a problem except when I wanted someone I found fascinating and atypical to be my friend, but it turned out I wasn’t their kind of weird. Trying to fit in NEVER has worked. I eventually wear out my welcome and am shown the door. Like:

  • My previous job
  • My church (was informed I no longer fit their demographic because I liked small, community oriented congregations)
  • The animal welfare group I helped found (those of you who know, know why)
  • La Leche League (turns out I’m not a good cult candidate)
  • The yarn shop friends where I used to teach knitting and crochet (some individuals are still friendly, though)
  • My book group (they ghosted me!)
  • My marriage to my kids’ dad
  • Etc.

I felt bad about these things at the time, but now I realize I don’t need to put my weirdness where it bothers others. I have choices, and it’s better to be true to myself than to try to fit in.

These guys just deal with my weirdness because they have no choice. Awww.

Anyway, my word is weird, and I’m happy now. I’ll enjoy the communities I have now while I can, and move on gracefully when it becomes apparent that I’m not a good fit.

I’ll be as graceful as blue-eyed grass, which appeared this week.

But hey, I still feel accepted by most people in my Master Naturalist group (I don’t expect them to all love me, just to work together). And I’m doing okay in the little horse community I’ve found myself in, thanks to us all loving horses! That’s plenty of folks to be weird around.

I am glad folks accept that I get frustrated when I can’t ID a plant.

Plus, my hobbies and family keep me happy and centered. I can be a Weird Happy!

What’s Your Favorite Movie to Re-watch?

What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times?

Oh geez I’m answering another prompt. But when I read this question, this film studies minor had quick answers. I’ll do television in another post.

Check out the springtime. So green.

I’ll just make a list of the top ten-ish very few films I have watched multiple times. Why few? I am not sure. I just prefer to watch them once and move on. Exceptions to follow.

The light was weird this late afternoon, due to a tornado watch. This is a lark sparrow.
  • Mary Poppins: this was my first movie. And my first album. It still charms me. Julie Andrews had such a nice vocal range.
  • A Clockwork Orange: the only violent film I can stand to re-watch. So artistic. So Malcolm McDowell as a youth. Mmm. So Stanley Kubrick.
  • Young Frankenstein: I will watch this any time I’m offered. And I’ll laugh my ass off. So much to love.
  • Most other Mel Brooks movies. I share his sense of humor. I grew up around a lot of Jews, so I love all the Yiddish.
  • Zoolander: another one that never ceases to crack me up. Also my horse has a lot in common with Zoolander. Only can turn in one direction.
  • Best of Show: dog humor. Improv. All my favorite actors in one movie.
  • Star Wars — all of them, even the dumb ones. I love Luke.
  • American Gigolo: naked Richard Gere. Need I say more? Also the soundtrack thumpa-thumping its disco way through a very enigmatic plot. I have no idea what was going on.
  • Casablanca: because it makes me think of Anita and the good parts of high school.
  • Rashomon: because it reminds me of the good parts of college. And because I can always use a reminder that reality is relative. Plus. Hilarious Japanese samurai talk.
Now to listen to thunder.

What’s My Name?

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?

This was today’s blog prompt. I know I already wrote today, but wanted to contribute. My name can be difficult!

Who am I? I see my dad when I look in the mirror.

My middle name given at birth is Ann. I’m one of the few people in my immediate family who doesn’t go by their middle name. My dad, mom, brother, sister, maternal grandmother and many of my dad’s siblings go or went by their middle names. My husband does, too.

By the way, happy birthday, Ernest Lee.

I go by both my names, Sue Ann (when I’m not Suna, my self-bestowed name). I’m named for Bettye Sue (Aunt Pug) and Doris Ann, my dad’s sisters. I’m glad I got their middle names.

I think I wrote a post once about not calling me Sue. Yes. I did. So, go read that for more. I like having one of those Southern US two-word names. I do like them separated, so it’s vaguely annoying that Dell spelled my name SueAnn in their directory and what show up in email sent to me. It could be worse. Most of my Indian colleagues have some very interesting initials and truncated names in the system. You need to ask what to call them.

Names matter. Find out what people want to be called and pronounce it well. Folks appreciate it.

Don’t Ask Me

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

This is the daily blogging prompt. When I saw it, I immediately knew the answer. It’s really hard on me when people ask:

How is your son?

Every time I’m asked, I’m reminded that it’s been years since I heard from him directly. One day he said he needed some time before he’d talk to me again, and that was that. So, I really don’t know how he is, other than indirectly.

Small melilot, bluebonnets, and Indian paintbrush, because I need a picture.

Maybe someday I’ll know what caused the rift. Maybe not. As I’m repeatedly reminded, it’s the estranged person’s right to do what they need to do, and that should be respected.

It’s not at all helpful to speculate about possible reasons for the situation, because I have no way to know. His father won’t talk to me about it, nor will anyone in his household. I’m glad they respect his wishes, and if the situation were reversed, I would be grateful.

When I’m sad, I hug Fiona. She always seems to like me.

Still, I’m human and a mother who loves her children unconditionally. So, it hurts to be asked how my son is doing. I wish him peace and love, and respect his wishes.

And that is my answer to the prompt.

Someone Asked Me This

Do you enjoy your job?

Honestly, the blogging software asked, but I was also asked by my contact at the company who contracts me out to Dell at my current position.

So, do you?

Yes, Bertie Lee, I do. I like it as much as I liked my previous job before they replaced my amazing boss with, um, someone else. I’d figured I’d stay until the contract ended next September then “retire.”

Are you the retirement type, Suna?

No, I’m not. I like having something to do, and if I’m helping people out, I feel good. In my current job, I help people use confusing yet powerful software to get their own work done. And I help my team get their work by answering questions so they don’t have to.

Did you hear that, Butter? She helps people just like she helps us hens! Do they thank her by giving eggs, like we do?

No, Bertie Lee, they thank me by giving respect and autonomy. There’s no micromanaging on our team, just encouragement and support. It helps that everyone is great at their jobs, of course. It’s been a great last hurrah in corporate America.

What’s she going on about, ladies?

I’m just saying that if this job continues, I’ll keep going for another few years, though it’s tempting to have more time for horses and travel. I guess the month that Medicare kicks in is pretty much guaranteed to cause introspection!

I’m only as young as I feel, but other than the lingering wheeze, I feel as good as I ever have. And yes, I like my job.

PS: I only had time to take chicken pictures today. Much work followed by long-overdue grocery shopping filled the time. Good news is Zippy Bippy, the new car, can hold a LOT with the seats down.

something poetic

(formerly The Lost Kerryman)

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