Every Personal Self-Discovery Journey begins with hindsight. That is why they call it 20/20.

 

You tend to see things more clearly as you gain a considerable amount of discernment and distance from the people and situations that caused you to question who you are.

If you are me, and maybe if you are reading this right now and you decided to read it because well you resonated with the title, the pro-Logue, whatever, you will feel so much better knowing that you are not alone!!!!!  You have met the one other person on the planet who, like you, talks to themselves and looks up at the sky while they do it. Intensely Saying to the air and, in some cases, screaming at the imaginary person/ deity   in the

Sky, God, or whoever you talk to. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”  “This AGAIN?? -

With an array of colorful Four-letter words that feel so good coming out of your mouth

 

Fired Again?  Scammed Again, Lied to Again, Fooled Again. Accused of XYZ again. 

 

And the Craziest Part comes when this conversation with God or with yourself happens for the umpteenth thousandth time, and normally you would be crying, cursing, screaming, maybe plotting revenge or carrying on a conversation of all the things you should have said, and all the things humans do in these intense moments….

 

But this is a huge BUTT. You do this…And/or moment.

 

If you are like me and have more than a dozen similar life experiences, that leads you to believe all people are downright terrible. You pledge yourself to your self-protective bubble where animals and nature are better than human beings.

You are now officially welcome in my bubble.  Membership for life. I got your back, Point Blank, Period.

 

 I know I am not the only person to make this decision. Chucking Human Beings for Animals and Nature. It’s a fairly serious choice.  Almost deciding to be a Democrat or Republican. Those political decisions are private to each person who makes them and why the adage goes. Never talk about Religion, Sex, or politics unless you want to start a controversial conversation. A conversation where you will lose control. Defining my bubble became paramount to inner peace. A place where I alone could re-write the script of my life.

 

There is a song called Espresso out right now.  Sabrina Carpenter – one of the lyrics – “I have no Fucks left to give” is a very powerful place to be.

 

 

My Name is   Gabby. The Neighborhood Dog. Suzie, Tiger-Lilly- Sylvia – Tommy's Girlfriend.

 

I have a very keen affection and almost reverent appreciation for HUMOR. I believe that I used humor and sarcasm as a crutch my entire life to deal with the harsh treatment of people and situations. I watched SNL. Read the comics religiously and even had a 45 yes, a 45 of Abbot and Costello – Why’s on First. If you are under the age of 40 and you have not listened to this comedic skit, you have to stop what you are doing and listen to it! Trust me – you will love the alliteration of words and play on words and the pure genius that is comedy! I think having a sense of humor allowed me to SURVIVE and thrive. I was able to take some very harrowing things, and yes. I will share them soon… it’s important for me, as you connect with me as a person, to understand that I find it hard to hold a grudge against people, and in almost all the horrifying shit I went through, I was able to see the person or the group of people from this third-party perspective. Almost as if I was looking at the whole thing as I was in the moments and seeing how pathetic and sad, in some cases, the person was that was bribing me, threatening me, stalking me, having a private investigator follow me, putting a tracking device on my car, serving me with legal papers accusing me of things I did not do nor was I even in town to have done them. Of course, this person, after trying to destroy my reputation and character, showed back up after 4 years, slipping inti my business email with a photo of themselves and a note that said Hi from Paris. As if I would ever want to speak or see this person ever again in my lifetime, 

 

I digress. It’s hard not to want to jump right in and just tell each seedy character that crossed my path like a rapid-fire gun, just bang one after the other. And because I can think quickly, that would be the easiest route to take.  I have decided to create an outline: remember those classes where they would teach you to take notes in an outline fashion. Very helpful.

 

Okay, outline accomplished. Now, let’s travel back in time – follow me to Lake Crest Drive. Imagine the most quaint and Idyllic neighborhood settled on the outskirts of a small town, A neighborhood where everyone knew your name and your business. There were even neighborhood pig roasts, and yes, you heard me correctly.

 The dead-end street in. We don’t have sidewalks or cable TV. The video games we played were stand-up, and you had to travel to an ARACDE to play them! Dear lord, it was the dinosaur age! Ha-ha-ha, I have vast experience in Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Fortnight, and Tomb Raider! I even called myself SLV- Sexy Little Vixen, and this was my handle for those of you not familiar. This is what the other gamers refer to you as. I am not opposed to gaming. I played with my ex-boyfriend, who played in the NFL for 10 years, and I think this was a “Thing” that many pro ball players did in the off-season,

 

Lake Crest Drive! It was beautiful, and I feel lucky to have grown up riding bikes and horses and enjoying the outdoors. Camping, Hiking, Swimming, Ice-skating-Skiing and I was very happy. Maybe the men I met, even as a young girl of 6-10 years of age, were just miserable people. It’s possible. My Dad would whistle very loud, usually around 5:30 pm or so. We did not have cell phones back then, so this was a common way for him to let me know sort of our thing, him and I. If I was riding horses or riding my bike, he would just whistle.

To me, it was not a big deal. It would be like a school ringing a bell between periods in

Highschool.  The bullying started back then.  Our Neighbor Larry was about 6 feet 7 inches tall and had grey hair he had bangs that feathered a bit around his ears and wore these thick.

Square framed glasses. From what I recall, he was the manager of a well-known bank in our small community. Even at my young age, this guy scared me to death, and his energy reeked of EGO-mania. He had a wife and three kids. Two girls and a boy. The youngest son had a learning disability he did not speak, although from what I understand, he could. But he chose not to. His wife was a saint. She was always baking something, laughing, and enjoying her kids.  I spent a decent amount of time with the girls, though they were

Four to five years younger, I would babysit when asked they spent a great deal of time at my house as we were the only house on the street with a pool. They would visit to swim. On a side note, their father reminded me of Chewbacca – keep that visual in mind.

Star Wars – The Tall Hairy Half Man Half I don’t know to this day what?!?  - Character. Now for all the Star Wars Phanatic. I loved Chewy. His roar or whatever was adorable, and he was a “Good Guy,” so to speak – I am merely referencing his size and his intimidation factor in that regard.  This Neighbor had those vibes. I could even imagine that underneath it all. This 6 ft 6 banker/man with shaggy hair and bad bi-focal eyeglasses could just as easily make that NOISE like Chewy from Star Wars, and I would not be surprised.  To me, he was a CHARACTER!

For those of you who do not know who Chewbacca is. ONE. I am sorry. Get with the program. But for now.  You can ask SIRI. Or Google CHEWBACCA.

Getting back to my neighbor Chewbacca - This beast of a man had the audacity one evening when I was 15 years old to humiliate me in front of his Bank Colleagues. I was asked to babysit while they entertained in the back patio the guests. We were downstairs, and I went upstairs to grab something for one of the girls.

The sliding glass door was open, and I stepped outside for a moment to get some fresh air. I may have been standing there for 3 minutes. Someone asked him if I was his other daughter, and he quickly quipped, “Oh no, she is the neighborhood dog” her father will whistle for her, and she comes running.”- NOW – to say that I liked this man before hearing this come out of his mouth would be a bald-faced lie! I did not like him, I did not like the way he treated his kids and his wife, and certainly, I was in no position to say anything or stand up for myself. So, from that moment forward, if his wife asked me to babysit or help in any way, I would, at my age, ask her what time my husband would be home without explaining to her why. I would leave the house as soon as he entered the garage, and in all these years, I never once allowed him to look me in the eyes again, and this ability to completely protect myself/ My Bubble was just the most peace-loving way I could think of to live in a world where people are just mean to be self-important and oblivious to how their careless, selfish acts can affect other people.   Good Riddance to Chewbacca…

 

Now, I will introduce you to Fred Flintstone. He does not drive a foot pedaling car, nor does he carry around a wooden club I am pretty sure he wears shoes. However, he is 100% all caveman, and if he could have drug me around by my hair to prove it. Instead, he just instilled those very endearing qualities into his two boys and scared his one and only daughter into a personal cave so deep I do not think that she ever survived being around the archaic Stone Age ways of treating women regardless of their age.    Once again, I happen to like the Flintstones, so this analogy is solely to create the vibe of this precarious antagonist in my story. And the Stone Age is where he lived mentally.  Our little Flintstones time travel adjustments and humor, of course. How else can you tell a story of a misogynistic man-child without adding a dose of humor and brevity to lighten the mood?

 

 

I loved playing HORSE and PIG those are games you play with a basketball and hoop, usually in someone’s driveway or on a playground. This game involves 2-3 people, and each person takes turns throwing the basketball from one angle of the half court, whether that be a 3-point shot outside the line, a 2-point shot within the line, a lay-up, or just a regular foul shot from the line. It’s very complicated, and you must know how to spell the word PIG and the word HORSE. You can see the skill set you need is excruciating to come by, and I am surprised no one has invented a class or pre-certification to teach this or even play it. SARCASM! This is just me poking a little bit of fun at the idea of being certified at something. These days, it seems that everything I used to do because I was good at it and could teach or train anyone how to do it. Some organizations say, for instance, the YOGA alliance, founded a good six-plus years after I had been teaching and taking SUMIT yoga, suddenly discovered that they could make money by requiring all their interested instructors to pay $3000 for a 3-week program. I was better at yoga than some, not all, the people training it, yet because it was MANDATORY! WE PAID! --- ugh, this world.

 

Getting back to the GAME PIG/HORSE.  I was good at this game. And in this scenario, it was a bad thing. You see. I was 4ft 11 and usually riding a bike or a horse or doing gymnastics or swimming or running away from home that is a whole other chapter.

Mr. Flintstone was a macho kind of guy. He would watch his son sometimes both of his sons play this game, and I recall he would play too. Well, me being good at this and, on occasion beating his son, sons, and having a few shots that were better than him would piss this guy off. He would huff and puff and talk under his breath, watching his son get beat by a GIRL! How dare you sink so low as to let this girl beat you. “Are you going to let HER win? What kind of Girl is good at this? Where do you think you’re going? Let’s Play this again. And the nonsense carried over into Tetherball, Soccer, you name it.  Mr. Flintstone did not like girls.

 

                                                     Mr. Flintstone is Harmless. Let me make it clear that I hold no grudge against Chewbacca or Mr. Flintstone. Their characters are, well, just that, and I learned never to take any of this personally. I noticed a pattern at a very young age, and it sort of followed me to high school – on to college, and even more so when I entered the workforce. The vast array of what I can define as nothing more than bullies. These antagonistic types started to appear in both male and female characters entering and leaving my life as quickly as they showed up. Sometimes, the character would linger longer than I wanted. I had learned the lesson and was already moved on mentally, though my body and my physicality were still waiting to catch up with my new mindset and reality I was scripting in my mind.

In the moments when I was in hermit mode and reflecting on all the things we all do when we are trying to figure out how we got where we are and why are these the people surrounding us?  If you were following me here, people started coming at me even more in ways that mystified me, and I would be left shaking my head, wondering what happened with this one.

Before I get to the – Netflix original series, Villain character you will meet.  I want to give this familiar female antagonist some airtime.   She is the one that shows up in all our lives over and repeatedly. I mean, maybe not yours, and if not. YOU ARE LUCKY! Be grateful. This is the FRENEMIE - CO-worker.

FRENEMIE/CO_WORKER} -- “Melissa! “You have the most beautiful legs. So lucky!” You look so good in that suit. I wish I had that coloring!

. Melissa/ME ’ “ Oh, Thank you. I appreciate it. I am not wearing a hose today. It is 88 degrees, and I have been in and out of my car so many times I ripped a hole in it.  But it is much cooler”

{FRENEMIE/CO-WORKER} “Yes. I hate wearing these nylons/pantyhose so uncomfortable?”

Melissa/ME – “AGREED- Okay, see you later.

RING, RING. – HELLO! Hi MIKE! YOU NEED TO MEET WITH ME?’ OK. 4:30 PM OK, I WILL SEE YOU THEN.

4:00 PM – MELISSA – MEETS MIKE – MIKE SALES MANAGER/ AKA- MY BOSS.

“Melissa, Unfortunately, I have to write you up, and you need to watch this video on how to dress professionally. It has come to my attention that you were not wearing Pantyhose”

 

On a side note! “ I cringed when he said those words. Say it out loud. PANTYHOSE!  This word, like Queef, grosses me out. Having to hear him say it out loud was even worse.  So if you’re paying attention, the same woman who hours earlier gave me multiple compliments on my legs and my suit was the same two-faced monster that called me boss to tell him, I mean, who has time for this shit. Even my boss, after he wrote me up and gave me the instructions to watch the video, was a former military guy, and he said to me.

Melissa, this is ridiculous, If you were a man. We would go to the bar and get a drink and talk about it, But I must follow the protocol.  

To this day! I hate Panty Hose, and when I get to the celebrity encounter that involved Panty Hose, you will see why I have such a triggering reaction to his request with regards to pantyhose and my complete aversion to them.