You Slut, You Whore, You Prostitue??

I may not be much on grammar but I do love the English language. I love the play on words that some people use and I love finding the meaning to words.  Bob studied Latin in high school and since then, I've also been interested in the origin of a word. To find a new word and actually be able to use it daily, makes my heart sing.

The words.... slut, whore, and prostitute... has always given me cause to go back to the dictionary and rethink their use . My girlfriends and I have had many conversations on them. 

According to dictionary.com the meaning of these words are as follows:

SLUT :

1. a dirty, slovenly woman.

2. an immoral or dissolute woman; prostitute.

 

WHORE: 

1. a woman who engages in promiscuous sexual intercourse, usually for money; prostitute; harlot; strumpet.

 

Prostitute: 

1. a woman who engages in sexual intercourse for money; whore; harlot.

2. a person who willingly uses his or her talent or ability in a base and unworthy way, usually for money.

 

I can remember when I first met The Engineer, my mom said to me, "you'll never make a good prostitue.". I looked at her in a puzzled, but not surprised, fashion and asked her why not. She said, "because you give it away." Well, we all know what "it" is and I was never sure that was true, but......

 

Probably a year into our relationship, a friend of mine was moving to Germany and couldn't take her 2nd car. It was a 65 Mercedes. It was old and beat up. She only wanted $300 for it. The Engineer bought it for me. So when my mom asked why he had done that I casually said "back pay!". She gasped.... hey! What do mom's know anyhow??? I know, I know.....300 dollars is a small amount for a year's worth of sex. What can I say....I'm cheap!! Right?

On to the meaning of the 3 words..............

In my humble opinion the real meaning should read:

Slut: 

one who will have sex with anything.  

 

Whore:

one who has sex for pleasure and may sometimes get paid.

 

Prostitute: 

what we all are in one way or other (definition 2)

There are other words I could throw in here like, you hussy, you strumpet. Why you, you harlot, you tramp....

 

But none of them sounds so good as  YOU  BITCH! YOU SLUT! YOU WHORE!! Ever been to the Howl at the Moon Saloon? You'll hear this chant when they sing different songs. When we went to the one in Miami,  I won a bumper sticker (for MY bumper)  for doing a line dance to New York, New York!!

 

 

 

oops off topic............

 

 

 

You can call me a whore if you wish. I won't be offended!

 

 Merry Christmas Ya'll

Starring: The Engineer (singer) Baby (drums) LemonLady(guitar player with tongue) Princess in Training (guitar) Triple D (guitar)

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Meditation

The internet is out at my house. Triple D is making me CRAZY

Serenity Prayer..........

For today I will:

Go to Barnes &Noble

get on the net

and

Order a Venti

 

Double Expresso Mocha Frappuccino 

Secrets

ChaMy life is pretty much an open book. I don't have too many problems "airing the dirty laundry."

I've often wondered about people holding secrets. I can remember when Clyde was diagnosed with rapid cycling bipolar disorder; the doctor asked me if there was anyone in the family that had experienced depression. I told them that my older son was always depressed.  The psychologist asked if there was alcoholism in the family. I said "yes sireee, yes indeedy." He asked if anyone had a thyroid problem. I told him not that I knew of .  As it turns out, when most people having bipolar disorder  track the family history they find a common ground with these 3 things.

I remember calling mom later that day and asking her questions about the family. I asked if there had been any depression or mental illnesses in the family. She said no one was ever diagnosed but  then she relayed all sorts of information about my dad's side of the family. For instance, my Uncle Jerry had been admitted to a Psych Unit after dangling his, now ex wife, out the 3rd floor window of their apartment. Then the story was told of my Uncle Vannie who spent time in Chattahoochee State Mental Hospital  after going into DTs. She didn't relay any information about her family.

I didn't even ask about my dad's family and drinking. We all knew that my dad's mom and dad were alcoholic and  so were all 3 of his brothers.  My dad and his sister were the only 2 in the family who were able to drink sensibly. I knew my mom had had a drinking problem in her younger years.My sister and I had our fair share of drinking episodes too. (Little did I know that my brother and my oldest son would soon have their own drinking problems) When I asked about my mom's side of the family, she just said that her dad had drank in his early years.

I questioned her about thyroid problems and no one had any problems as far as she knew (later both my sister and mom were diagnosed with hypothyroidism, completing the "3")

The Engineer's mom and I would have all sorts of discussions about depression and alcohol use. The Engineer's paternal great grandfather had committed suicide. There was no "alcohol abuse"  noted in his family. There were no mental illnesses beside what the great grandfather may have had.

Several years later my mom's brother committed suicide. I asked my mom if she had any idea that he was  depressed. She told me about his attempts at suicide and his alcoholism in prior years. He had been in a sever state of depression since his wife had died (at this time I don't remember how long she had been dead before his tragic death).

I asked her why she never told me when I first asked and she said, "I didn't want to air the family's dirty laundry." She didn't mind airing dad's but she wasn't going to tell her family's secrets.

So now we are in the present day and I have no  problems telling anyone anything about my family.My philosophy is: the more who know the more likely you'll be informed if they see something. Example: If I pretend there is no problem keep the secret of Triple D's drug abuse, then my friend who saw Triple D coming out of  crack town might not want to be the first person to tell me they saw her.They know I know and tell me immediately if they see her.

My older grand girls have been raised to keep secrets not air the family dirt by their mom and their mom's side of the family. What I'm finding out at this time would make your straight hair kink up like your pubes.

I think it comes down to a matter of trust for the girls. Can they trust me with the information they are giving me?  What am I going to do with the information when I find out?

If you cover your eyes do things not exist? If you cover your ears is there really no scream? 

Are family secrets kept because of embarrassment or are they kept because of fear?

Just Because I'm Paranoid Doesn't Mean They Aren't After Me

"They" think they will make me crazy and I'll forget what really happened.

NO SIR-EEE...... I will not forget.

We've never locked our doors. The only time there has ever been a break in or things stolen was whenever "Clyde" lived here or in the area. When he came home in 2003 things happened again.
The neighbors had their car broken into and things were stolen. Our truck  gotten broken into and an old tennis racket and some home made CDs were stolen. Clyde wasn't even at home the night it happened but my first thought was "he's keeping his hand in it." (we never found the robber)

So ........

Strange things are happening again. Triple D has been good (I think?). I've got the older grand girls  and they are good (I think?). Of course, there is the Engineer (he's gone a lot?) and Baby (she's too young?). Oh yeah, and me (I didn't do it? Did I?)

Case of the Missing Credit Card

This morning I get to the check out at the grocery and go to use the card and it's missing. I gave it to Triple D to put gas in her car on Sunday night. It was returned promptly and I checked my account on-line to make sure there was only one charge.  I call Triple D and ask her if she still has it. She says she thought she gave it back to me. I tell her it's not in my wallet and she says she doesn't know. I head home. In my mind, I retrace my steps trying to remember what happened. I remember I gave the card to Triple D to put gas in her car on Sunday night. She sent a text to me and told me she put it on the counter. Sometime after 12:30 a.m. Monday, I get up and check the counter. It is there.  I take the card and for what ever reason put it into an envelope that the Engineer has left on the counter. Monday morning around 7:30 a.m. I take the card out of the envelope and insert $20, then seal the envelope. I put the envelope and , I thought, my card in my purse. Something isn't right??

I get home and check the on-line account and it still says the same thing. No pending charges, No new charges. I ask Triple D again. She says she gave it to me. I tell her again I don't have it. She says it might be in her car. I say where?" Then she says or it might be right there in the top dresser drawer. I open it and say "just laying on top?" She says, "Maybe under some stuff." After shuffling papers, I find it buried under a tray. 

I give her a puzzled look and ask why she took it. She says she didn't take it. She says she guesses she never gave it back. I shake my head and leave the room. When I get into the kitchen, I realize that what she said didn't make any sense, since I had just done the "retrace in my head."  I go back into her room and ask her why she took my card. She covers her head and says, "I don't know."  The suspicion hackles come up immediately and I start watching her like a hawk.

Tonight I came home from tennis and asked again why she took my card. Her excuse was she was afraid that I wasn't going to give her anymore money for gas. I asked her if she took it out of my purse. She smiled sweetly and said, "no mom, you left it on the counter. "  I probably did leave the card on the counter but I think she is just trying to keep "her hands in it." Damn kids......

Case Closed

I was distressed over this and talked about it with a counselor friend of mine. According to the counselor, Triple D will have these fleeting moments because her brain is still not back to "normal." "Picking up" the card was not right but she stopped short of using it for other purposes. Her drug abuse caused her to lose her moral values and then the stealing and lying became a habit. I don't really get it but , I suppose, I'll take the counselor's word on it.......

Creative Juices? NOT!

I wish I were more creative. I've sat at my computer for more hours than I wanted and I've read what others have posted and I can't think of  a thing to write about.

I thought maybe I'd write about the ridiculous dress codes that middle school has and how sometimes certain things are allowed because of body shape and size and not the length or lack of covering. I can't because it's too aggravating.

I thought I'd write about the time I went to Germany with my long time friend, Ethel.
I can't. I miss her too much to reminisce.

I thought about writing about the TSA. It's already been done and frankly Scarlet I don't give a damn.

I thought about doing Mama Kat's Workshop this week but nothing on this list inspired me (because I have no creative juices). Here's what it is this week.

1.) Have you ever had a fight with a long time best friend and never made up? Do you think about her from time to time and think about contacting her? What would you say? What if it didn't work out? What if it did? I never fought with a friend that I didn't apologize immediately

2.) The perfect fall photo...share a picture that defines fall for you in your neck of the woods. I need to call Kelly or Dumdad . I don't do photos.... at least, not good ones. OH! Plus I live in Florida and there is NO fall.........blah.............

3.) CONTROVERSY! Are the new security measures performed by the TSA really that bad? Take a stance! See above paragraph about not giving a damn.

4.) What inspires you to write? Problems? If there are none at the moment.......well........there are none at the moment.

5.) "If you could relive any moment in your life, what moment would you choose?  Write about it." That is also above about Ethel and if I knew what I know today, I'd have done more traveling with her. Shit! Now I'm depressed.

I see posts about all sorts of things that are funny and I can't think of a single thing to write about that that would make someone laugh.

I could have written about the drudgery of household chores.....sweep....mop....dust....Boring!

I could have written an essay about what I'm having for dinner.....put chicken in the oven...VOILÀ ..Baked Chicken......Boring!

I could have written about how awesome I played tennis last night....sigh....I won......too bragg-y.

I could have written about how wonderful it is to have a husband out of town every other week......NOT!

I could write about what the IRS agent says to me this morning when I go to work....If I go to work...hum....maybe later.