If I Could Only Be A Hipster

I feel like I don’t belong anywhere.

I am just young enough to miss out on the label of angsty Gen Xer, yet I am too old to be a cool Hipster Millennial.

I am a puzzle piece in life’s timeline that doesn’t fit.

What am I?

They say I might be a Xennial. What, someone not “in the know” like myself might wonder, is a Xennial. The birth years are up for debate, but it is a term they threw at us poor folk who don’t fit the mold, who fall in the middle of two distinct generations. It is said that Xennials were born between about 1977 and 1983. Let me tell ya, however. I was born in 1975, and I still identify with this so-called Xennial generation. I feel like I’m stuck as this in-between outsider whom people feel sorry for. I can almost feel society patting me pathetically on the back whilst saying, “You poor thing.”

To combat this awkward, out-of-place generation, society slapped the random, weird title of “Xennial” on us to help us feel like we have a place to fit.

Well, let me tell ya, we feel left out!

When I think of Gen Xers, I think of great music, strong feelings of discontent from mainstream thinking, and the generation that really started looking out for planet earth. Yes, they were known as slackers, but I believe many of them have grown into people of strong intellect who are not afraid to voice their beliefs, and they try to make the world a better place.

Hipster Millennials. They are everywhere. It seems they have taken over the world with their intellect for all things computer, art, creativity, natural, and a lot of strong self-motivation. They understand trends, and are quick to capitalize on them. Many of them are entrepreneurs, and have no fear of failure. They understand this whole age of computers, and can wield this knowledge to move leaps and bounds past the rest of us.

They don’t have the stigma that they feel they are entitled to all things, like the so-called Selfie Generation. They are known to work hard, create hard, and play hard. Things seem to come easy for this generation, but they have truly worked hard for their place in society.

The Gen Xers are established in their careers. Many of them are set. The Hipsters, God bless ‘em, are in a whole other realm of the career game. They have taken over the world!

Then there are us awkward Xennials. We either haven’t yet found where we fit in career wise, or many of us are trapped in this frenzy of getting laid off left and right as the job climate is changing. We are stuck in this murky purgatory space of having hard-earned skills that are now obsolete because of computers, but not having the computer savvy, media know-how, or cool aesthetic to get the newer jobs.

Just learn the media game, you might say. Ha!

We try our hardest to keep up with technology, but it is moving at lightning speeds while we trod along, barely keeping our heads above water. We might get to a point where we just feel like we have things figured out. “I FINALLY HAVE AN AWESOME FACEBOOK PRESENCE,” we might say. Then all of a sudden – BOOM!! Facebook is not the cool platform it once was. There is now Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, and God help me, platforms I don’t even know exist. Even if I were to try to get a handle on these platforms, they would be obsolete tomorrow. For the love, my seven year old and eleven year old can pick up any digital device on any platform, and automatically have the know-how to work the thing. I feel antiquated and rusty. I feel like there is no way to keep up.

Let’s talk about these kids for a minute. Many Xennials waited until late in life to have children. The Gen Xers sometimes have no patience for the young. Many of them are already grandparents. Millennials, on the other hand, have either had children early, or they have decided to forego the way of children. So us in-between Xennial parents feel a bit isolated.

I feel very out of place when it comes to activities related to children. I am the oldest parent in either of my children’s classes at school. I am the oldest parent to take my child to classes at church. I am the oldest parent taking my son to Boy Scouts or my daughter to one of her many activities. The young parents all click together, and, once again, I’m an awkward outsider.

Now, I understand part of this feeling of being an outsider stems from the fact that I am also a crippling introvert, but a lot of this keeping to myself stems from the fact that I feel I don’t fit in anywhere. I’m a chubby 3-inch square trying to fit in the keyhole made by a sleek 1-inch diamond.

So, do I throw in the towel and just give up?

No. I move on, constantly feeling like I get three steps forward and two steps back. I may be a Xennial, but I’m not letting life get the better of me!

Advertisements

Small town

I have been living a lie for the last eleven years. Day in and day out I would go about my mundane life just completely clueless to reality. I’ve, unknowingly, lied to my friends and family about my existence for years. It is with an embarrassed and heavy heart I now have to admit: I don’t live in a small town.
img_0871
I have always lived in a sprawling cluster of big cities. I spent my childhood in Southern California, where you can go from the desert to the beach without realizing you’ve even changed cities. Driving past Disneyland and seeing the Matterhorn, driving by the blue and white of Dodger Stadium, crammed amongst many other people along the Pacific Coast Highway, or being stuck in traffic for hours was no big deal for me. This was, and is, par for the course in big-city Southern California. It’s all I knew for the first thirteen years of my life. I assumed everyone lived this way.
architecture-buildings-city-45182
When I was thirteen, I moved to the Dallas – Ft Worth Metroplex. I mean, by definition a metroplex is a vast metropolitan area that encompasses several cities and suburbs. I lived smack in the middle of this immense cluster of continuous city. Just in my city alone, there were three malls, a theme park, a water park, Rangers Baseball Stadium, an international airport, and I can’t even begin to tell you how many schools there were. This city I lived in is now home to Texas Stadium, home of the Cowboys. No big deal, that’s just how it is there. Again, it was my reality. I thought the city I lived in was small in comparison to the rest of “The Metroplex.”
I lived this way until I was 25. My husband and I followed my parents to little-old, middle-of-nowhere Asheboro, North Carolina. It was a major culture shock, to say the least. This city was the smallest town I had ever visited, let alone lived in. It didn’t even have a Target store, for goodness sakes! I laughed, so I wouldn’t cry, when I saw the mall. You could stand at one end, and literally see the other end. If I had a football, I could throw it the length of the mall, bouncing it off the Dillard’s sign at the other end (FYI: Dillard’s has since closed). There was only ONE movie theater *gasp*, and the closest “big-city” (which is funny to me, because it is also small) was a thirty-five minute drive away! Not only that, but there was only one junior high and one high school. Who, the heck was their big rival! The “downtown” area consisted of a strip less than a quarter of a mile long. It bragged that it had,and I use these words loosely, a coffee shop (the only one in town), a bank, and two large antique (read that as junk that nobody wanted anymore) stores. I was officially in hell.
architecture-buildings-business-331990.jpg
I moaned and complained about how small this city was. Ugh, everybody knew everybody, but they didn’t know me. My friends listened ad nauseam to me as I repeated how I had been drug to a tiny city in the middle of nowhere. I was officially a big-city girl living in a small-town world.
I lived this way until last week. It came to my attention that this city I live in boasts 26,000 people, which is a medium-sized city by most people’s standards. I have spoken with many people in the last week who come from towns with 500 people or less. They tell tales of main drags with one stoplight, no schools, and one co-op-type store. Now THAT is small.
So the moral of this story is, I need to quit crying about the fact that I live in a small town. I guess I need to tell people that I live in a decent-sized city, Lord, help me. Much to my chagrin and disbelief, I am NOT a small-town girl. I’ve lived a decade of lies.

Stella

It happened fast. You were okay on Saturday, your normal self. You got sick Sunday morning about 10am, and you were gone before noon on Monday.

This hurts. You were there during my strokes, as a companion when everyone else had to leave. You were only cuddly on your terms, but you were a constant. We had much the same personality in that way.

You were there through my dark days last year, when it felt like the world was crumbling from beneath me. You were here every day keeping me sane, when all I could do was be stuck in this house. There wasn’t a night or day I slept without you curled up by my side. I couldn’t be in a room without you right there … even the bathroom. You were right there with me almost every time I went LIVE on Facebook.

When I was on my bed, you would nose and dig the covers until you were right next to me. When I was in the kitchen, you stood guard on a towel at the doorway. When I was getting a shower, you would wait patiently on the mat for me to get out. When I was folding clothes, you would knock them all over and get on top of them, EVERY TIME.

I know you were just a dog. But, you weren’t. You were my constant companion. My tiny rock. I could depend on you to always, always be there with your sassy attitude, and your unwavering, unconditional love.

You chose me three-and-a-half years ago, and although people thought I was insane, I’m so glad you did.

We all have already shed countless tears, and I’m sure we will shed countless more. We love you. I love you. I don’t know what we will do without you. I don’t understand, I can’t fathom, why this had to happen, but you were in such miserable pain at the end. I hope you were okay with the choices we had to make, some of the toughest we’ve ever had to make. I hope you know exactly how much you were, and always will be loved. I’ll miss you tonight as I sleep without you here, and I’ll miss you always. 💔

Blessed

Hi family!

Yes, you all are family, not just friends and followers. It really does take a tribe, and I couldn’t travel this road without each and every one of you. You lift me up, make my days brighter, and are there for me to “talk” to, even on my hard days. Thank you!

So, Christmas is over. I hope it was a good one for you! For us, it was the first one without my “Nanni” (grandma). It was bitter sweet. It’s so hard to fathom her strong presence not being physically present amongst her earthly family. She was, however, so ready to be done with her broken shell-of-a-body, which was miserably tethering her to her frail life here. To know that she is no longer bound to her sickly, broken body is a blessing! I know she is hanging out at some heavenly beach, soaking up the rays and being happy. That makes my heart smile, even through my tears.

This is also the first year we have, quite literally, been unable to afford even one gift for our children. Somehow, they still had a wonderful day, full of smiles and giggles of glee. We had “Secret Santas” come out of the woodwork, come to our aide, and make this year a special one for the kids. It was even more special for us as parents, because we are well aware it’s only by the grace of God (and friends/family) that we were allowed a “Christmas” at all. Hopefully this next year will find us in a much better place, and we can Pay It Forward in a big way.

What comes next? Gatlinburg. We were blessed with a trip to go visit my brother’s family in Gatlinburg, TN. No, they aren’t FROM TN, they are going there for New Year’s Day. We are soooo looking forward to seeing them again! It is always a good time, and good for the soul, hanging out with them!

After that? I am trying to find an RN job I can do from the house. It is VERY apparent, especially after this last week, that trying to be normal and, you know, walk around, is too taxing on my body. I think, God willing, I can do something from home, though. I need to feel like I am providing for my family and contributing somehow. I’ll get there. I will.

Yes, I am doing the pearl thing, which is fun. I have had the opportunity to meet so many great people! It has afforded me the ability to help pay some of the bills, which is nice. It would be über cool if I could make that a career. Then, I could fizz and shuck part time, yet also work on writing. That would be a dream. #goals – I don’t understand how some people touch a company, and it immediately turns to gold. I touch it, and it barely turns yellow after months of hard work. LOL!

Anyway … I’m off to play with the kids. Andrew has some Legos calling to us. Natalie can’t get her nose out of her DS. LOL! Bye until next time!

Hello. Is there anybody out there?

It has recently come to my attention that I have not written in a while. I think I have been avoiding it.

My body is about the same. I’m on oral immunosuppressants. This is in place of the chemo I did last year. They are great (I’m lying). Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just quit taking all the medication they have me on. Sixteen pills a day, down to none. I mean, the doctors admit they don’t know if the pills are really helping. They are, however, killing my liver. Bonus, they may give me blood cancer down the line. I’m going to be honest, lately I have been obsessed with trying that cannabis oil that doesn’t make you high. A few drops under my tongue, and I’m good. I wonder if it would work.

Mentally, I am a bit unstable. I try to keep my spirits up, I really do try, but this gets SO OLD. I want to just flail and kick and force everything to just work out. I want to work again. I don’t want to be stuck, like a slug, waiting for life to just happen to me. I am not that person. I do the LIVE pearl thing to keep sane, and feel like I’m at least a functioning member of the household, but it’s all smoke and mirrors.

I just happened to turn on my phone today while I was sitting in the parking lot at the bank. I had been trying to find and gather together change to deposit, in an attempt to keep us from over drafting again. I happened to turn on a Facebook Live feed, I don’t know why, that was just starting. He didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before. He didn’t give some great revelation that I haven’t been preached at countless times in the last year and a half. It just hit me differently today. He said, “It may seem dark right now. You may be in a winter. But, this is a season. It will pass. I promise you, it will pass.” As I sat there with pennies and nickles in my hand, prepared to go in and make a measly deposit to save our banking account, the words hit me like a brick to the head. This is a season. It sucks now. It is awful now. It is the lowest of the lows now. But, we will get through this. It will eventually take an upturn. Please, God, it has to take an upturn.img_1553-1

So, to anyone that needs to hear it … You WILL get through this. It sucks now. I know it sucks. The season will end, though. This is but a season. It is the winter, and spring always follows.

I love you all.

Find me on Facebook: mommapossum

 

This probably isn’t a good one to read if you need motivation.

I have not disappeared. I’ve had a hard last month or so. My head is not screwed on correctly, but …. I was going to say I’m working on it, but I’m really not. I want to just feel what I want to feel for a bit. I just want to exist in this limbo for awhile, and not be solid.

I feel like I’ve grown up so much in this last – however long it’s been – emotionally. I was definitely a sheltered butterfly, but I got a good spanking from life. It’s not all butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns. But you know what? That’s okay. It has been difficult, sad, hard, but I am a stronger person for it.

I’ve falling back a bit into — I’m just going to say it — self-hatred. That’s really been the hardest part to overcome. People suck, and will let you down in the worst ways, that’s always  a constant. I understand that. People are human. But, it’s hating myself through this process that has been so difficult. 


I am mostly strong, I will mostly persevere, I am mostly a mini beast, but I just need time to not … be.

I understand everyone is going to want to throw help at me. I’m sorry. I really just don’t want it right now. Give me time. I don’t know if I’m going through the grief cycle, but apathy is really where I am right now. I just want to stay numb for a bit.

And, no. It doesn’t matter what happened. Just a bunch of crap back to back. 

I’ll get back to my happy, motivational, perseverance, warrior self. I just need a minute.

I just like the purpley-red eyes.

 

Love.

Pearls

I’m obsessed. I’m ridiculously obsessed with pearls … or maybe it’s the oysters … or maybe both. I just love the look of each individual shell, the crack that initiates the opening, and the reveal of the surprise, one-of-kind pearl inside. The shucking craze is here to stay, and I’m hooked.


I’ll admit, I was a skeptic. I had been to an oyster shucking home-party about ten years ago. I did not have the best of experiences. It was dark, WAY overpriced, a little boring, and did I say dark … as in, it was hard to see what they were doing, let alone the pearl. So I had to wonder after all these years, “What the heck is up with all these oyster shows?”


I mean, they are on just about every time I open my phone (that’s the way us modern people roll on Facebook), and sometimes hundreds of people are watching. I resisted for months … and then came AKA Mom. They sucked me smack in with their hilarious and witty ways, and now I can watch for hours! I’ve never even frickin bought one, it’s just good entertainment. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m going to get an oyster containing a pearl. I’ve just been burned by the home-party pearl before, so I decided to look into the pearl companies first.


I’ve researched, investigated, and read up on this pearl shucking phenomena. I have to say, my favorite pearls, and the best as far as I’m concerned, come from the Kalo company. This venture was started by two women (which I love) and is still in its early stages.
To purchase, you can buy just the pearl, or you can choose to get jewelry to showcase the pearl. They don’t automatically MAKE you buy the jewelry (Some places make you pre-buy jeweler to go with your pearl) … although you’ll probably be clamoring to pick up a piece or two when you see the reasonable prices.
And before you ask, YES the oysters are real! They are cultured, freshwater Akoya oysters, as opposed to the freshwater oysters that some companies sell. Kalo uses an oyster farm in Asia to harvest their unique oysters, and each one is guaranteed at least one pearl. Each individual oyster actually makes the pearl inside its shell at the Kalo farm. So yes, they are very real.
Factoid time: I learned, in my extensive research, that there is a way to tell if the pearl is “real.” Stop me if you’ve heard this before. If you rub the pearl across your teeth and it gritty, the pearl is real. If you rub it against your teeth and it’s smoothe, it’s fake!


Want to join the obsession with me? Visit AKA Mom on Facebook for their live shucking shows. Join the addiction with me. Oh, I’ll be there .. make sure you say hi!
 

🔴Edit: I just joined to make a bit of extra money!! Check me out Momma Possum at:

https://mppearlparties.kalojewelry.com/store/vp?MjcyNg

 

9th Planet

So, no biggie, there might be a ninth planet in our solar system. WHAT?!? I would say there IS a ninth planet, but it has yet to actually be seen.
No, I’m not talking about poor, downgraded to dwarf planet, Pluto (don’t worry, Pluto, I still believe in you). I’m talking about the “hidden” planet known as Ninth Planet.

What?!?


If it’s hidden, you ask, how then do we know there is (might be) a ninth planet out there? This sneaky, huge planet is leaving a trail. 

What kind of a trail? Can I see it?


Astronomers, including Mike “Pluto Killer” Brown (the scientist who embarrassed poor Pluto by discrediting it as a “real” planet), think they have found its orbital pattern, which is 30 degrees off of the orbits of the other planets. It is approximately (and hypothetically) 40 lightyears away, and its large pull, with the 30 degree difference, is what makes the sun appear to tilt (I’ve never noticed a tilty sun, but they are the experts).

How dare you discredit Pluto!


The overwhelming evidence seems to be in the Kuiper Belt (yeah, I didn’t know what that was either). This is the area past Neptune (including poor Pluto) where icy, frozen things like to hang out. There is something big out there, like a Planet Nine for example, that is scrambling this area with an apparent gravitational pull.

One big planet to scramble them all.


It has been estimated that Planet Nine (if it exists … which I like to think it does) is 10-15 times the size of earth. It would have to have a HUGE orbit, 20 times farther from the sun than that of Neptune, taking 10,000 to 20,000 years (Earth years) to orbit the sun.

That’s big.


Also, no big deal, it may be the driving force in the destruction of our solar system. Never fear, however, this would occur after our sun dies, along with earth and everything on it. We won’t be here to see it happen anyway!

The destruction, oh the destruction!


Now, this is all hypothetical, of course. There are, however, individuals who believe it’s not IF, but WHEN Planet Nine will come out of hiding. These astronomers continue to search, using the most powerful telescopes and the most high-tech mapping systems available.

Come on Planet 9! Show yourself!!


I don’t know about you, but I’m rooting for Planet Nine. How awesome would such a discovery be during our lifetime! To be a small part of the civilization that discovers only the third planet since ancient times would be incredibly unbelievable. Come on, astronomers, you got this!

You can do it!

My Besties

I am weird. I fully admit this. I’m not like stalker weird, but I do have best friends who don’t realize I am alive, let alone know that we are best friends. Is that crazy?

I might be CrAzY.


I blame my weird friend acquisition completely on social media. A year ago I had friends, friends of the reach-out-and-touch-them variety. I still have these friends, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes life gets all gummed up and in the way. I don’t get to see, or spend time with, my live-in-town friends nearly as often as I would like. I usually can’t call them up and just chat about nothing in general at any given time of the day when I feel bored. They’re busy with their kids’ activities, dinner, life, whatever.

So what did you have for breakfast?


Enter social media. It’s like a world of magic, instant gratification, electronic fairies who make friendships with anyone, at anytime, in any location, in any country possible. At any given moment, I can log onto one of my social media accounts, and the world opens up to me. It’s my oyster, and I’ll take it.

The cyber world is your oyster, man!


Sometimes, I log into a continuous conversation I’m having via Messenger with about eight different people at any given time. I also have my friends who are members of several groups I follow. In these groups, people post things on the “wall.” I can choose to interact with these posts at any time I so desire. Sometimes I’m not even really sure what the group is about. Who cares! There are people (I’m assuming they are people) interacting with me!

I hardly wear makeup. Who cares?!?


Then there is the “liking” of posts. It’s an easy way to say, “Hey, girl, hey! I see your post, and I was here.” Sometimes, I get brave enough to post something on a group’s wall. Sometimes I even get likes in return! It’s like magic! It makes me feel so popular and loved. Do these people know me? Not really! Most of them have no idea what I even look like, but that’s the magic of social media.
But, my bestest of best friends are found as the face of some of the LIVE streams I follow on social media. I have a select few I follow, but I know all there is to (publicly) know about these, my besties! My husband even knows, and refers to them as, “Best friend 2, 3, and 4.” I do have ONE “real” best friend. I’m not THAT much of a whack-a-doo! Best friends 2, 3, and 4 are as real as social media gets, though.

So I have friends on the computer who don’t know I exist. Who cares?!!


Sometimes, they even say my name in response to something I’ve written in the feed of their LIVE show. It’s like they ACTUALLY know me!! I mean, they say my name, out loud, in front of their other gazillion followers. Besties, I tell ya! They really get me.

They accept me as I am.


Okay, it’s slightly possible I’m a little crazy, but doesn’t it feel this way sometimes? There are so many people we follow online these days. We spend so much time reading their blogs or watching their LIVES, it’s like we actually know them. It kind of blurs the line between celebrity and those that watch from behind a screen. Social media allows us to interact with, and know people, like never before.

Who are your best social media friends?

World record holder

Is there a World Record for the world’s clumsiest person? If so, I would like to submit my name for consideration. I don’t know what the verification process entails, but I believe I would win, hands down! Need proof?

Exhibit A: Picture it. It’s 1980. I’m five years old, dressed in a light pink leotard, and barefoot. I’m walking across our groovy brown shag carpet when BOOM! Somehow I manage to step on a toothpick that has been ensnared in the tufts of shagginess that is our carpet. Straight up into the middle of my left foot the toothpick lodges. It takes an ER visit, including a minor surgical procedure, to get the dang stick out of my foot.

Ouch!

 

Exhibit B: I’m in fourth grade. Our class is walking back to the school building after recess. Out of nowhere a curb shows up to ruin my day. I step off … that’s right, I said I simply stepped off … the stupid thing, twisting my ankle and spraining it really good in the process. Another fun visit to the ER, including crutches and a plaster splint, is needed to fix me this time.

I cannot believe that happened.

 

Exhibit C: Unknown year. I’m at my grandparents house, which is full of people who have come for some sort of party. I am playing with my cousins, and the random children that have come with their parents to this party for the grown ups. I’m in the kitchen, but I can see a group of kids playing in the backyard. I run from the kitchen, through the front room full of people, and WHAM! I run face first into the sliding glass door. I did not realize it was shut, because I’m awesome like that. I remember lots of blood, and being completely embarrassed by the number of people that witnessed my catastrophe.

Whoops!

 

Exhibit D: I’m eighteen years old, and I’m at Disney World for the first time. We have just finished eating, and notice a bus about to leave for our hotel. No problem, we’ll run and catch the bus before it leaves. Check that. THEY’LL run and catch the bus. I’ll start to run at full speed toward the bus, but somehow get my feet tangled up with … well, my feet. Down I go, but I don’t just fall. No, I have to be more dramatic than that. I fall and start to bounce and roll across the parking lot. When I finally come to a stop, the entire bus population is looking at me with gaping disbelief. I am mortified.

Bounce and roll!

 

Exhibit E: Same year. I am at the beach in California, where I have come with my immediate family and my older cousin. We decide to have a swing on a swing set facing the water. Everything is giggles and rainbows, until everyone decides to jump from the swings. They go, one by one, soaring through the air like birds on the wind, before they land perfectly on the sand, maybe ten or fifteen feet in front of the swings. It’s my turn. I’m so confident, I could burst. I let go of the rusted chain of my swing. Up I go … and then immediately down I go. I somehow faceplant under the swing. I will never live this down.

Zziiiip it!


I could go on, but I’ll let those embarrassing moments speak for themselves. I am, in fact, the most clumsy person alive today.
Do you think you are clumsier than me? I don’t think it’s possible, but let’s hear your stories of grand clumsy embarrassment in the comments.