Ten Years a Blogger

10 years ago on this day, I began blogging. It wasn’t always my Typical Tracy blog. It started out as something else, but morphed into this blog after a short while.

Over the years, I’ve blogged about weight loss & work, movies and mommying, politics and past times. Some topics were odd…like how my kids can’t whistle, or the time I had to rid both of my daughters of head lice. Some posts brought me ridicule, like one post I did about wearing boots with shorts; I pissed off some cowgirl big time with that one.

I’ve published over 985 posts between all my blogs, 568 with this one alone.

My top 3 posts of all time are:
#1. The Naked Party which described a party my husband and I went to once where a majority of the people wound up naked.

#2. On The Beach In The Buff, which chronicles my summers spent at a nude beach in Sandy Hook, NJ.

#3. Where Steel Magnolias Goes Awry, where I argue a serious plot fail in one of my all time favorite movies.

Which goes to show you, sex and steel magnolias sell.

I’ve not been blogging a whole lot this past year – I had only 11 posts in 2019 to be exact. I blame that mainly on lack of enthusiasm in large part due to the dickhead, who with the help of Russia and misguided and moronic Americans, was voted into office. Not a whole lot has inspired me since then.

But, 2020 is a new year, and will hopefully end with a new President. And my promise to you is I’ll do my best to keep on bloggin.’

Missing Olive – A Year Without Our Aloof, Indifferent, But Adorable Kitty

Today marks the one-year anniversary of when our family went from being the proud owners of two kitties, to the mournful owners of one. Losing a pet sucks. I’m sure there are plently of you out there who have had to endure the death of a furry friend, and know of what I speak.

It was a miserable thing to go through – finding your pet laying stiff in a ditch along the road. Putting her in a box, and burying her in the rain. Finding a heart-shaped stone the next day and putting it on her gravesite. I also put a 99¢ garden light from Walmart at the head of her grave.

You know something? That cheap little light has outlasted every other, more expensive light in my garden. Shine bright like a diamond, Olive…

The year has flown on by. Her brother Dodger spent a month looking around the house for her. But now he’s used to being the only kitty. We are more careful with him now, too. He cannot go out if the sun is down, or if we are going to be out of the house for the day. And even once the sun is up, I send up a silent prayer of thanks everytime he lopes back through the door.

She wasn’t the most loveable kitty in the world, but I really miss her. While her brother is a big, lumbering, way too cute, dope of a cat, she was demure, aloof, and quiet, and would spend hours grooming herself. She like to sleep in odd places too.

Like in my in-box on my desk.

or on top of our hot water heater…I actually cut her a piece of carpet and fit it on top so she would be more comfy.

And I miss the way when you scratched her at the base of her tail, she would incessantly lick her shoulder. It was a total twitch she had – it you scratched, she licked, when you stopped, she stopped.

I miss hearing her give Dodger the business. He would come up to her and try to clean her or play with her, and she might let him…for a while. But when she tired of it, she got her bitch on and Dodger would be on the receiving end of a blow…and yes, I’ve seen fur fly. But then again, he’d tackle her a lot, so he usually had it coming.

Ah Olive. I hope you’re resting well. Know that for the short few years you were with us that you were safe, and loved, and that your family misses you.

I think I’ll plant something by you tonight.

This Old Gal, She Blogged Five…

WordPress sent me a congratulatory message today – I’ve been blogging for five years.

I was like, “whoa, really?”

So I checked. My first post on my first blog was exactly 5 years ago today. It was a private blog, meant only to record happenings in my life and stories of the past for my kids. But after a few posts, my ego got the better of me – I wanted to tell my idiotic tales to the world!

I was curious to see how many followers I could get, or if anyone cared enough to comment on a particular story. I started a semi-daily blog regarding my diet and weight loss goals, and stuck to that for a year and change – way longer than I stuck to my diet.

Then in July of 2011 I started Typical Tracy with no fanfare or intro blog. I just started writing. While I’m no internet sensation, I have to say I am smugly pleased with myself. I have over 470 followers to date and almost 34,000 total views. Not to bad for an absolute zero from New Jersey.

My most popular post by a landslide is the one I wrote about my years on the nude beach. Go figure. Another popular one was about girls who wear boots with shorts. Not sure how that one marched it’s way to the top of the old blog hit parade.

But there are some posts that I thought were overlooked – ones worthy of more views than they actually got. Here are a few for your re-consideration.

1. The worst camping weekend. Ever.

2. My Biting Habit

3. Driving Miss Tracy

4. Losing One’s Debit Card

5. Getting Even is Sweet

And in case anyone is mildly interested, below is a screenshot of my first ever blog post. Oh, and thanks so much for reading. Here’s to another five years together.

 

4 Years Ago Today

It’s my anniversary!

Four years ago to this very minute I was most likely in the midst of a massive freak out. I was crabby, and anxious and fidgety – and smoke free.

Yes, it’s my 4 year anniversary of quitting smoking.

I was a bad smoker – up to 2 packs a day. In order to keep the costs down I smoked generics – GPC Lights in the box to be exact. But when I saw on the news that Virginia was going to up the taxes on smokes by a substantial amount, I knew I had to quit. I was robbing my family of our money, and my health.

I’d tried to quit in the past. My method of choice was the patch. It cut the cravings way down, but I had a hard time with the mental aspect of quitting. See, I liked smoking. I liked the few minutes I got during each cigarette to sit and veg – usually leaning over the railing of my porch watching the world and getting my nice, relaxing fix.

But I knew it had to be done. My husband HATED it. I can’t put it in enough italics, bold type or capital letters to express the amount of loathing he felt for my habit. He’d tell my children that I was going to die, and then they would fly into a panic, begging me to stop. I’d flash him dirty looks, but he was telling the truth. Problem was, none of them knew the stronghold that addiction had on me.

I had quit once before for more than 9 months. Then one day after taking photos of the Walton’s Mountain Museum in Schuyler, VA I was chatting with the proprietor of a a little bed & breakfast down the road. He lit up a cigarette, and I casually asked him if I could have one.

I bought a pack on the way home.

That’s all it took. Once cigarette to undo 9 months of good work. I was over the hump. I had quit, and then I’d blown it. That’s the kind of smoker I am. I think if I had a cigarette today, I’d be a full blown smoker again in three days time.

The good thing? I have no desire to go back. This past weekend with my daughter’s graduation, I had a smoker staying at my house. I’d sit with her and chat and thoroughly enjoy the smell of her cigarette, but I had no inclination whatsoever to bum one off of her. I don’t want to go back to that.

Now I see folks smoking in their cars, or getting a few packs at the grocery store, and I feel sorry for them. They are still hooked. They still have the long road of withdrawals and crappy moods ahead of them. They still have to deal with the ever growing social ostracization that is linked with smoking. They’re the ones who have to get in their car at 10:30 at night because they realize that there is only 2 cigarettes left in their pack.

But I am free. I did it. I actually did it. I never thought I would be able to quit, but somehow I did it.

It’s one of my greatest achievements in life. And if I ever catch my kids smoking, I’ll slap them silly. But I don’t think they will – they saw what it did to their mother. My addiction might have taught them a great lesson.

I sat on the beach yesterday and would occassionaly catch a whiff of a cigarette. I still love the smell. I’m just glad there is no longer a little stash of GPC lights dug into the sand beside my chair.