Thursday, March 31, 2011

I Found MY Word

I did it. I found my word. That one word that describes me and all that I am. It took me a while, but I found it. I've been looking for this word for a few years now, i just didn't really know that was what I was looking for. I kept thinking that I was trying to find myself, to reinvent this new being who suddenly found herself a mother, wife, and now soon to be divorcee. I kept saying, "That's it, this year I'm going to reinvent myself and figure out my purpose." Simply saying that I was a mother or a wife wasn't cutting it for me. It didn't have enough 'umph' behind it. Yes, I proudly gave birth to 2 children without any pain meds and did the whole SAHM thing. I also selflessly supported a military husband as he was called away at all hours of the night. Then as my marriage fell apart I dove into school, but then still a word like 'student' didn't seem to fit right either. The right word just kind of lingered on the tip of my tongue waiting to spit itself out like a watermelon seed.

So what was it? What was this word that I was searching for? My days of playing the tuba in a jazz band were over. I was no longer a 'musician'. My days of riding and jumping horses were over. I was no longer an 'equestrian'. Even my days of serving my country in the Coast Guard were over. I wasn't even a 'sailor' anymore. So what was I? What is it that puts ME apart from everyone else? What word describes me now? Rome is 'sex'. New York City is 'ambition'. Yes, i consider myself sexy, but I am by no means Rome. And my ambition shines through with my drive to graduate college, but I am far from New York City.

So I sat there in my living room tonight, surrounded by piles of laundry wearing my boyfriends pajama bottoms (which he may never get back) thinking about MY word. What word I define. Then it hit me. Every day I sit in an office talking with other military veterans. I listen to their stories about their girlfriends, bills they have to pay, war, and friends they've lost. I stand behind my friends and family 100%. I love fully and hurt fully when love has left. I have steady patience when it comes to waiting for what I know is right. Even when my children are filled with evil and start talking in tongues I can't imagine my days without the joy they bring me. I enjoy being that shoulder to cry one, that friend you need, the supportive girlfriend, mommy. I let people in and people let me in. I'm that smile you need at the end of the day when nothing seems to have gone right. My arms are always open to hold someone when they hurt.

I love to love. I love to give people my heart. My heart has been broken in so many ways I've lost track. Drop kicked, cut, punched, and shattered. But my heart is what defines me. I always manage to pick up the pieces and put my heart back together better than before. It's my heart that sets me aside from other people. It's my heart that has always stayed true to me through all my ups and downs. It's my heart that keeps me forever looking at the positive in things and the people around me. That little beating machine in my chest is what helps me to love fully, honestly, and without reservation. It's my heart that defines me. It's my heart that has helped me find my word. That word that I am the dictionary definition of.

I know that I'm a ball breaker and that I believe in tough love. I don't always tell you what you want to hear and my mouth often runs faster than my brain but I know what I am deep down inside. I. Am. Heart. I will use my heart to love you with everything that I have and to help you love yourself. That's it. that's my word. The word I am the definition of, I am heart.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Wordless Wednesday

Mommy's Sexy Time
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Friday, March 25, 2011

Conversations with The Donor

This morning I was tweeted this awesome picture of me by @ScreenscapeS as a super hero. (my favorite one at that)
I was proud so I threw it up on Facebook for all my non-tweeps to see. And who do you think the first person to comment on the picture was? Ah yes, you guessed it, The Donor. And so began the friendly banter that made me chuckle for an hour this morning.

The Donor: You realize that superhero's power is to drain the life force and consuming the energy and power from anyone she touches right? He turned you into Rogue from the X-Men.

Me: I am aware of this. You're the one that takes pleasure in calling me the Connecticut Killjoy so Rogue seems oh so appropriate don't you think? Kind of along the same lines as the favorite spider.

The Donor: When you put it like that then I guess yes, it would be appropriate. Rogue is kind of a gay tat but the widow will be inked on sometime in April. Julie's name and now the Connecticut Killjoy tribute. I swear I'm going common law from here on out! No more tributes. Good thing I can't have anymore kids.

Me: So glad I can be the inspiration for such a tribute. You're welcome. And yes, good thing on no more kids. Whew!

The Donor: Yes yes! Like I said, common law from here on out. No more tributes. I figured you took five years of my life and spawned my babies so something was in order to get inked. Another chapter closed.

Me: ‎*slams book down and cracks open a beer*

The Donor: Blue Moon preferably.

Me: Ummm, you don't like beer. Remember?

The Donor: I like Blue Moon. That's just about the only beer I don't like.

Me: You mean "Do like".....nice to see you're expanding your horizons past Jack Daniels. Proud of you.

And so the conversation ended. What did we learn from this kids? Lets recap:
  • I, like Rogue, drain the life force out of people. Win.
  • I will live on in flesh art in the form of a blackwidow spider. Win again.
  • My vagina spawned the last of The Donor's seeds. Yet again, win.
  • The Donor and I have something other than our spawn in common, we like Blue Moon. Win?
  • The Donor has expanded his drinking vocabulary. Ummmm, win......?
  • A guy I work with just whipped out a HUGE bag of dark chocolate!!! I win so hard y'all are sobbing in the dust.
That is all, I have dark chocolate to nom on;)

P.S. Special thanks to The Donor and his guest appearance in this blog post.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Brandi in the Raw-One Classless Bitch

For those of you that know me personally know that this past year has been nothing short of interesting. Perhaps one of my favorite most interesting moments was when I was called 'classless' on Twitter by another user. I saw this on Twitter and immediately jumped and thought, "Classless???? Who the fuck are you calling classless???? Bitch." I think I proved her point with that thought alone. After my knee jerk 'classless' reaction i started to look at it in a comical way.

This tweet was put out by someone who rates quality of life in diamonds and probably eats with REAL silverware, not the Kmart special I picked up in college back in the late 90's (which I still proudly use today). Again proving her tweet to be correct. So there I was, laughing at my Kmart silverware while sitting on my Bob's Discount couch in my Target t-shirt and Walmart underwear. Again exuding my classy status. "I need a list," I thought "of everything that makes me 'classless' in white color society." And a list is exactly what I made. So here it is for all of you, a list of Brandi in the Raw and everything that makes me 'One Classless Bitch'..........and also a pure goddess in my eyes.

1. I live above an old run down gas station, complete with pumps and a sign.
2. At the ripe old age of 31 I still rent apartments/houses, I've never owned.
3. I drive a poorly financed 'old man brown' Chevy station wagon.
4. I have been known to lick the bottom of a Doritos bags to get the last of the crumbs.
5. There is absolutely NO rhyme or reason to the decoration in my kid's rooms. NOTHING matches and most of it is hand me downs.
6. ALL of the frames in my house are from Walmart or the Dollar Tree and probably are held together somewhere with duct tape and/or super glue.
7. I cut my kid's hair, with no formal training what-so-ever. Therefore they often look like ho-bo children. And no, I'm not afraid to use a bowl!
8. The inside of my car looks like its been through Hurricane Katrina. No joke, its a disaster. My next car will be different. I've said that before
9. I don't really dust all that often. I hate it.
10. I don't use paper towels. Haven't had them in my house for almost 3 years, with the exception of a breach of security a few months ago.
11. My dinning room table is a hand-me-down from a restaurant in Maine.
12. The chairs around my table are older than I am. They are from the house of my junior high crush when his parents had a 'moving yard sale'. My mother bought them for me as a joke, partially because he wouldn't go to my 8th grade prom with me.
13. My daughter often looks like the Wild Woman of Borneo because I don't brush her hair every day. (I choose not invoke Lucifer based on a snarl created by sleeping.)
14. On any given day both my children look like they just crawled out of a dumpster.
15. It is physically impossible for me to keep my house in a state of tidy-ness.
16. My wardrobe is from Walmart, my kid's wardrobe is from various thrift stores.
17. My idea of fine jewelry is anything from Walmart over $50. BTW, you can get some pretty expensive fun shit from Walmart.
18. I live from paycheck to paycheck.
19. On hot days in the summer I wash my kids in the backyard using a spaghetti pot, shower fluff, and soap....while they're naked.
20. As a family we enjoy Pants Off Friday and parade around the house in our underwear.
21. I use old butter tubs as tupper wear.
22. 'My' glass is a mason jar. I drink all my cold drinks out of it.
23. If my bra matches my underwear it is a complete and total accident, and only happens once or twice a year.
24. I use the words twat and cunt on a regular basis.
25. I enjoy videos of things getting blown up/shot.
26. I have my very own deer hide that my Dad gave me. I asked for it one Christmas.
27. I have had a LOT of sex in my life time and I don't hide that fact.
28. I am VERY open about EVERYTHING.
29. I'm a ball buster. If you have toothpaste on your face I'm going to tell you that your boyfriend has bad aim.
30. I burp.
31. I fart. In public. And then I giggle.
32. I taught my kids that farts=funny
33. I hang out with the guys and help them pick up chicks.
34. I tell it like it is, flat out, the non-fluffy version. If you suck, I'm going to tell you that you suck and why.
35. I tell racist/religious/sexist jokes. Not because I'm racist/religious/sexist, but because they're fucking funny!

So that's what makes me 'classless' and who I am. I'm a complete mess and I love it! I am so happy and comfortable in my skin. I may have taken the long way to get to where I am today but I wouldn't change that for the world. Those people who call me classless never get past the dirt, cat hair, and farts to see the fact that I proudly served my country for 7 1/2 years where I stopped drug runners, illegal fishing boats, kept our waterways safe, and shaped over 700 individuals into today's Coast Guard. They don't get to see that I actually attended a college prep school for all 4 years of high school where I directed full length plays, sang in a choir, got awarded a music scholarship, made honor roll, made the junior Olympic team for Nordic skiing, worked on the school magazine, and mentored junior classmates. They don't get to see that as a single parent I put myself through 2 years of college while making the Dean's List, got invited to join the honors society, and finally graduating in May. And most of all, they are so concerned with judging other people, they don't get to see how amazingly supportive and loving my family is and how happy we are because we're not concerned with how the world sees us.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Wordless Wednesday

Elvis is always watching you at Silly's.
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Friday, March 18, 2011

The Devil Wears Pigtails Turns 2

It's official. 2 years from this very moment I was walking up and down hills and all over the back roads of Branford, CT because I didn't want to be pregnant anymore. I was done. This little girl 'critter' had been sitting on my sciatic nerve for the past 6 months. Get this friggin' kid out of me!!!! That night contractions started and the next day she was here.

On her way out she caused enough damage to require 26 stitches, internally and externally. This is why I say that I gave birth to a cheese grater. Every since 10:19am on March 19, 2009 little miss Pheobe Lee has been on her own time schedule with a bit of a diva attitude. She has screaming fits that break windows. She throws tantrums that land her in the middle of walkways. She has a tendency to attempt to beat her brother Theo up. There have been times when I'm pretty sure she's talking in tongues and growling. She is my little demon, aka: The Devil Wears Pigtails.

But so often I catch her rocking her baby dolls, tucking them in, and telling everyone in the house "Shhhhh, baby sleeping." She's the queen of snuggles and kisses. And she idolizes her big brother Theo, mimicking his every move. Every day she has a new facial expression and new words in her vocabulary. Every day she is an amazement to me. And tomorrow she will be 2. The years will fly by faster than I care to think about, and I'm sure the temper will be tamed and she'll do great things. But one thing's for sure, she will always be my Devil Wears Pigtails.

Happy 2nd Birthday Pheobe Lee! Mommy loves you.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Friday, March 11, 2011


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Poopy Puppy

I once again find myself dog sitting.....willingly. Not sure how this happens. I can't stand dogs much in the way that the old bag down the street can't stand children. I mean, they're ok for short periods of time as long as you can give them back. And by short periods of time I mean no more than 5 minutes. Dogs smell like shit stink. Especially when they chew their toe nails (btw, I dislike feet). The only thing worse than that smell is wet dog smell. Related: The dog came to my house started raining......yesterday. Did you know that dogs have to poop outside to avoid poop paintings by toddlers? Well they do, which means I have to walk this dog outside, in the rain, an ungodly amount of times a day 2 or 3 times a day.

This morning I take said dog out for a walk so that he may relieve himself on some poor un-expecting trees and sign posts. We pace a small section of sidewalk (in the rain) and add more liquid to the surrounding trees. Lucky them. As I was about to have enough of this rain and urine business, said dog gives a big oak a loving look. He circles the tree to size it up. He sniffs up and down the bark. He pees in several spots. He then proceeds to back his hind end UP the tree as if climbing it backwards.

Once the dog is practically perpendicular to the ground he commences to poop....and poop....and poop......and poop. All the while trying to stay with his butt up the tree. I was pretty sure this dog pooped out a small cat. I had to do a head count of my three cats once we got back inside to ensure they were all, in fact, still alive. A look of accomplishment came over the dog's face once he was done doing whatever it was he was doing. I have to wonder if this look of accomplishment for being able to poop up a tree while perpendicular to the ground or for the sheer amount of poop that actually came out of a 15 pound dog. Perhaps I will never know.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Wordless Wednesday

Because I always cry with a duck in my mouth.
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Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Wordless Wednesday

Some day they'll be butterflies
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