Can Men and Women be Friends? Guest Post by Anonymous 

Sitting here thinking. I don’t most of time, but I have been this week…

Can men and women just be friends? 

Can two married people be just friends without their spouses?

What if each spouse doesn’t know how much the two actually talk via messages, social media, calling, etc. Is this wrong? 

In my opinion, if your spouse doesn’t know all details of your convo, then there is something wrong with it…it’s OK to be friendly and stuff but if your conversation can not be shared and it crosses friendship lines then you are in bad grounds period. 

Are you in a relationship as such? 

What are your options? 

I have no issue with friends but secrets etc cross alot of lines. Respect is a two way street! In my opinion, that’s what’s wrong with folks these days..they always looking over the fence imagining about the grass in the other yard.

So I repeat. 

 Can men and women just be friends and leave sex out of there conversation or thoughts? Hmmmm?

Please be kind…I’m using my blog as an outlet for some shy writers. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect my own opinions ~ Prudence 

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Chicken and Waffles…

I’m not a fan of breakfast food but recently I went to a little Restaurant called The Egg Bistro. 

Okay, I’ve actually been there two times this week. That’s just how good the food was. 

The first time I ordered two pancakes, thick cut peppered bacon and some country ham. No one told me that the pancakes were massive. I barely made it halfway through my plate before I was full. The pancakes were amazing. My only complaint is that they don’t warm the syrup. However, I’m sure if I wouldn’t have been so busy stuffing my face I probably could have asked. 

Today, I was sitting next to a table and the lady sitting there ordered the chicken and waffles. Now, I wanted the pancakes  bad and had been thinking about them everyday this week but as soon as I saw that beautiful display of food, I immediately changed my mind on the pancakes and decided to try something different. Different as in waffles and not my faithful love of pancakes. 

Yes, I’m a true creature of habit. Once I find something I like, I won’t order anything else off the menu. Because I’m eating of course what I like. 


Doesn’t it look pretty?

The waffles came with a caramel bourbon sauce. Which I immediately asked for an extra cup of once I tasted it. 

Absolutely delicious! 

It was so good I wanted to lick the plate clean but I had already ate too much. Now here’s the real shock. My meal came with the chicken and waffles and a plate of cubed hash browns and it was only 10.99. Can you believe it? That’s a lot of food. Because I’m greedy, I also ordered the thick cut peppered bacon and a strawberry mimosa with a splash of champagne. 


They could have dressed the glass better but no worries…I killed it too!

Needless to say, I ate all the bacon, chicken, waffles, and potatoes. Driving him, my eyes were so heavy that I thought I was going to fall asleep. 


I’m going back again before the weekend is over. 

P.S. I took my son, the picky eater and they actually had boiled eggs, sausage, and fresh fruit that was satisfactory to his likes. He was a happy camper when he left too. The waitress was very impressed that he knew exactly what he wanted to eat. 

Pixabay

It is very rare for me to unfriend someone on Facebook or any other social media platform because I truly believe in free speech. I put my uniform on everyday with hopes of enforcing the rights of others and upholding the Constitution to the fullest. 

The very nature of being in the military means to me that my Commander in Chief (past or present) is off limits for discussion. No matter what I think or how I feel about his policies it is never publicly discussed. 

Yet, I had to delete two friends recently. One because half of his posts were down right racist and inappropriate and all of his election posts took me to a dark place. 

My daughter and I have had heated exchanges over the rights of others and their opinions. What really bugs me, even now as I right this is that I don’t care if you don’t like a certain group of people. As long as its verbal and not physical because as I said before, I believe in Freedom of Speech. However, his posts were over the top and even though I am black, I don’t or won’t condone someone posting pictures of lynching black people,  jokes about immigrants, crude jokes or mean statements about certain religious groups, or insane posts about women. I will openly admit that am not a fan of Mrs. Clinton but I do not think that a woman’s place is at home, bare foot and pregnant. This is only a brief summary of some of his posts.  My skin is usually pretty thick but I can only take so much. 

Now the other guy is a active Athiest and like I’ve said before. Don’t care because it’s his right. Most of the time, I can tolerate his, “Why would God let this happen if He was real?” Sometimes it’s pretty interesting to see the debate of the people that comment on his posts. 

Lately, his posts have been more hateful and graphic than usual. His post over the weekend of two conjoined twins being born was a little too graphic for me and there being no God really got under my skin. 

Looking back, I probably should have deleted him a long time ago but we have over the years had some pretty good discussions and even some pretty good arguments and too be honest, I don’t know why the video got to me like it did. Maybe it’s the not being able to see two sides to every opinion that got to me the most. We don’t have to agree but not being able to meet in the middle is a problem. My thoughts or someone else’s thoughts should be valued especially if you push your opinions down someone’s throat. 

After a couple of days of thought I have come to realize that even for him there is a line that was crossed. I mean it’s one thing to want your voice heard and even give good reason for why you believe what you believe. What I didn’t realize before is that even though I may feel it’s important to voice your opinion that doesn’t mean that I have to be the recipient of YOUR opinion. 

What I’ve also realized is that the first two were just the beginning of more to come and it’s time for me to clean house. Social media has become the dumping ground for everything that’s wrong with what’s wrong! Yes, you read that correctly.  I hear a lot of folks, myself included, say that Facebook is a great way to keep in touch with friends and family. I think that I may go back to the old fashioned way of doing things. 

My body…the confession

So I am like 40 and you know what that means?  Men, teenage girls, and little kids think that’s like OLD right?  Considering 40 isn’t really that old and I wasn’t born when they discovered Stonehenge I am still considerably young.

I do however have this problem and it’s not going away any time soon.  No matter how many times  I have tried to act like it didn’t exist…it comes back and stares me in the face every single time I look in the mirror.

Have I gotten your interest up yet?

Do you want to know what my problem is?

Of course you do…we are all nosey by nature.

I am/was/is ASHAMED of my body (all depends on my mood that day).

There, I said it.  I have confessed.  I should feel free and liberated now, right?

Wrong!!!!

I still want to get dressed in the dark.  I don’t want anyone to see.

Wait!

There’s more.  Before you get all judgmental on me…let me explain.

I have the whole saggy boobs thing going.  Add insult to injury…I have a huge bra.  Big flappy, saggy boobs.

The chronic flat/squared/rectangle thing going on with my ass.

Then there’s the hematoma on my thigh.  Try explaining that to men when you get naked.  Or when it’s visible from the pants or shorts that I am wearing.  Just imagine…all of your friends wearing daisy dukes and your wearing Capri pants in the summer time.

Also, the protruding ribs.  My short lived efforts at being a dare devil!  The little jump off of the steps with my bike that went horribly wrong.  At least I lived to tell the tale, right?

Oh, then there’s the stretch marks.  I have had them since I hit puberty.  It was weird being so young in a cover up.  Not sure that I wanted the world to see my woman marks.  I never wore bikini’s or bathing suits without trying to mask my disgrace.

Did I forget to mention…the muffin top…the last kid really did me in.  I didn’t snap back like I did with the other two.

Oh let’s not forget, Bucky the Beaver.  I was called this a lot by kids when I was little.  I had a massive gap and these huge, discolored front teeth (again…being the tom boy that I was…another story for another day), and these two pig tales that just screamed…not cute at ALL.

So let me run it down…big gut, huge lump, flat ass, and a partridge and a pear tree…

Yeah…that’s me…so insecure…so ashamed.

I won’t blame all the magazines with the insanely skinny women.

I won’t blame the doctors that poke needles in people’s faces to make them look young again.

I won’t blame my parents for their genetic make up.  Although…it is technically their fault…

I won’t blame my love for peanut butter Oreo’s in the middle of the night either.

I won’t blame my love for red meat, cakes, pies, cookies and the best of all…plain Lay’s potato chips…

I won’t even blame my reckless behavior while being a kid…

Or the three kids that I gave birth too.  Even though, I have had saggy boobs since I was 15.

I won’t even blame my age either.

I won’t blame anyone or anything.

At the end of the day…every part of my body is a reminder of something that I did that was wonderful, great, and the not so great.

I won’t say that I am 100 percent comfortable in my own skin.

I will say that every lump, bump, or sag has a story and most of those stories mean something special to me.

I tell you what I do know, that I’m the ugly duckling that turned into a beautiful swan… I grew into my teeth too.

I love me some me.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t take an opportunity to take a selfie. (Usually from the neck up)

Please believe that I may not like being naked but I absolutely love a curvy dress, fabulous make up and some F*** me pumps.

I’m done confessing for today.  Do you have something to confess to today?