bad TV, book reviews, fashion, fiction, narcissists

A review of The Wig, The Bitch, & The Meltdown, by Jay Manuel…

In a recent blog post, I mentioned that I was reading Jay Manuel’s 2020 novel, The Wig, The Bitch, & The Meltdown. In that post, I wrote that I understood and appreciated what Jay Manuel was doing with his first novel. He was processing trauma by turning it into a fun fictionalized read. I’ve done the same thing on multiple occasions, so I already had a warm feeling about Manuel’s debut into fiction.

I also can’t stand Tyra Banks, even though I watched her reality show for years. My devotion to America’s Next Top Model was less about idolizing a retired supermodel than watching a trainwreck. I don’t actually care much about fashion, and those who have seen me in person can attest to that. I just find narcissists fascinating, even if I want to keep them at an arm’s length. ANTM was chock full of narcissists, and its resident Queen Bee, Tyra Banks, was the most toxic of them all… as far as I can tell, anyway. Obviously, I’ve never met Tyra in person, but I have heard what she says and observed how she behaves. She makes my N chimes ring even louder than Meghan Markle does.

I downloaded Jay Manuel’s satirical novel about reality TV modeling competitions back in January 2022. I decided to read the book when I started watching episodes of ANTM while Bill was away in Bavaria. As I watched ANTM and cringed, I read up on Jay Manuel and his now non-existent relationship with Tyra Banks. I remembered that they once used to be friends. What happened?

Well… Jay wrote his book, and that sure didn’t help their friendship. But there was a lot that led up to the book being written, and having been around a lot of narcissists myself, I spotted all of the red flags in The Wig, The Bitch, & The Meltdown. Clearly Mr. Manuel had loads of experiences and incidents to fuel his creativity when he penned his novel. If only a fraction of the crazy in this novel has any basis in truth, Jay Manuel went through Hell to birth this book. And the price of writing the book was losing his “friends” from ANTM, as it was reported that Tyra Banks was angry about the novel. She allegedly asked people from ANTM not to interact with Jay, or help promote the book. Apparently, people from ANTM value relationships with Tyra enough to grant her request/demand.

I can understand why Tyra Banks would be upset about Jay Manuel’s novel. The novel is clearly based on Jay Manuel’s relationship with her and others from ANTM, even though the book is fiction. I’m sure she sees him as disloyal, and narcissists can’t abide disloyalty. Moreover, Jay Manuel really took the piss out of Tyra, including plots that were obviously based on things that actually happened on the show. The end result, for a reader like me, is pure entertainment and occasional laugh out loud moments. Obviously, Tyra Banks doesn’t want to be laughed at, and even though she’s made a lot of money and become very powerful in the entertainment business, she doesn’t want to be upstaged in any way.

Jay Manuel is still not as powerful as Tyra is– or was– (like Donald Trump, she seems to have lost some of her popularity). However, writing this book probably boosted his prestige. I was definitely impressed by the imagination and creativity he showed in his novel. There’s a good reason why Jay Manuel was the creative director on ANTM for so many years. On the other hand, a lot of what he writes was obviously inspired by crazy stuff that actually happened on the show.

So… on with the plot…

Pablo Michaels (Jay’s alter ego) is the silver haired, silver eyed creative director of a reality show called Model Muse. It’s a rip off of America’s Next Top Model, set in the present. I mention that the novel is set in the present because Manuel mentions a lot of technology that didn’t exist when ANTM started in 2003, or even when it finally ended in 2018. He seems particularly wedded to Apple products, as he mentions them a lot in the book.

Pablo is not naturally silver eyed or silver haired. This is a look that the supermodel he works for, Keisha Kash (Kash is perhaps a play on the last name, Banks?), wants him to look that way. Pablo and Keisha met when they were both a lot less famous, and they were friends. Over the years, they had shared a lot of pints of Dulce de Leche ice cream. Pablo had become Keisha’s rock, fixing things that went wrong, and always having Keisha’s back. She started her reality show, and he was the one person she trusted to be the creative director. She was right to trust him, though the job means that he never gets any time to himself, nor can he do things that he wants to do.

Pablo and Keisha work with other “legends” from the fashion industry. Noted British fashion photographer, Mason Hughes (modeled after Nigel Barker) is onhand, as is the world’s “first” supermodel, Sasha Barenson (Janice Dickinson). Miss Thing (J. Alexander– Miss J.) serves as a judge and a runway coach. Joe Vong (perhaps Ken Mok) is an executive producer. And De La Renta (perhaps Sutan and/or Christian Marc combined) is in charge of hair and makeup.

Sasha still wears a size four dress, even though she’s in her 60s. But she constantly nurses a sippy cup full of “water” that smells a lot like Chardonnay. Mason is “happily married” to a boyish looking Indian woman, although he seems to like men. Miss Thing is hilarious and witty, but also a bit catty and two-faced. Joe Vong has created many successful reality TV shows, but is completely dictatorial and manic. And De La Renta, like Pablo, seems to be one of the “good” guys who cares about the models somewhat. Keisha’s mother Brenda Paris (Tyra’s mom, Carolyn London) is in prison for trying to steal jewelry from a safe at the morgue where she worked as a photographer. Carolyn London, in real life, is a medical photographer. Tyra always presented her mother as wonderful, but in Jay’s novel, she’s a criminal.

Pablo Michaels is doing all he can to keep the show together, as Keisha and the rest of the cast misbehave in a multitude of ways, showing a complete lack of regard for those who aren’t narcissists. Pablo ties to be the voice of reason as Keisha does everything she can to make more money, become more famous, and expand her brand. Manuel really went to town on this– bringing up Tyra Banks’ memorable foray into the music business by making Keisha release a song, even though she’s tone deaf. In real life, Jay Manuel studied opera, and presumably, he can sing. I’ve heard Tyra’s song, and as a musician myself, it didn’t impress me.

I dunno about this… This was one of the challenges for the models, but she barely used them. The video was all about Tyra.

Manuel also covers Tyra’s attempts at writing, as he has Keisha write a novel. Tyra also famously wrote a novel for teenagers. I have it downloaded, but I can’t seem to bring myself to read it. Maybe I’ll punish myself by reading it soon.

Throughout the book Manuel skillfully illustrates the classic ways of a malignant narcissist, to include having Keisha have a huge meltdown in panel. Tyra Banks also famously screamed at a contestant in Cycle 4, angry that the young woman wasn’t “upset” enough about being cut. The circumstances of Keisha’s meltdown are somewhat different, but the behavior he describes is the same as what all ANTM fans witnessed when they watched that episode.

More outrageous behaviors are described, and if you were a viewer of ANTM during its prime years, when Mr. Jay and Miss J. were on it, you will easily recognize some of the contestants. Manuel blends some of them into new people, including some famous and memorable statements some of them uttered during the show’s run. Some of the incidents are clearly based on things that happened on the show, but others are pretty diabolical (and hilarious) mashups based on things that a malignant narcissist supermodel might do. The part about the wig, for instance, is pretty scandalous. If you’ve ever seen one of Tyra Banks’ famously crappy makeovers, you might have a good laugh… as you also cringe in horror.

Manuel’s writing is often pretty snarky, and there’s a lot of objectionable (but believable) language in this novel. Sometimes, I wish he’d hired an editor. He misspells some words and names. For instance, he repeatedly refers to Mommie Dearest (the book and movie about Joan Crawford, written by her adoptive daughter, Christina Crawford), but he spells it Mommy Dearest. He refers to “door jams”, rather than “door jambs”. He also employs some words that are what one might call “fifty cent words”. At times, he doesn’t quite use them correctly, or he uses them when a simpler word would better suffice.

I got a kick out of how Manuel describes Keisha, who is obviously based on Tyra in almost every way. He repeatedly writes about Keisha’s “creepy” little girl voice. If you’ve seen ANTM, you know what he’s referring to, as Tyra does the same thing. He describes what she looks like, and her tendency to not like contestants who look, in any way, like her. Manuel also makes Model Muse rigged– blatantly stating that the winners were chosen long before the runway show at the end of the season. I don’t know if that’s actually how it worked on ANTM, but I’ve always suspected that the winners were ringers. What’s sad to me is that a lot of the young women, who tried out for that show, legitimately thought it would open doors for them. Although some contestants went on to form careers in entertainment, only a few became legitimate working models.

Overall

I enjoyed Jay Manuel’s book, The Wig, The Bitch, & The Meltdown. I found it a fun and entertaining read. I’ve seen a lot of people saying that Manuel isn’t much better than Tyra Banks is. I don’t know if that’s true, but he does appear to have some real talents. I think it would be pretty difficult for him to have an ego larger than Tyra’s. Moreover, while I think Tyra has some talents in terms of self-promotion, I also think she totally got off on being worshiped by the contestants on the show, even when she gave bullshit advice, contradicted herself, or cut them for ridiculous reasons. Jay, at least, seemed to have some sensitivity… and he has the excuse that he wasn’t the boss of the show. Tyra was. He was working at her behest.

I found some of the elements of Jay’s personal story– which he weaved into Pablo’s story– fascinating. Jay Manuel was born in the United States and grew up in Canada. He was adopted when he was a baby, and he puts part of that story into the book. Jay also has a very interesting racial makeup; many people think he’s Hispanic, but he’s actually got Italian, Czech, and South African ancestry and thinks of himself as Black.

I think I’d give The Wig, The Bitch, and The Meltdown four stars out of five. I don’t read a lot of novels anymore, but I legitimately enjoyed Jay’s snarkfest. I laughed out loud several times, or just exclaimed in disbelief; I think that counts for a lot. I also liked the ending. I found it very satisfying.

I’m taking off a star for the editing glitches, although I am impressed by how well-written the book is, given that Jay Manuel isn’t primarily a writer. I hope he’ll write another novel, and next time, hire an editor to give it some polish. And I hope he’s as likable in real life as he is in his writing and on television… although I’m sure those who knew him on Top Model are probably no longer sending him any emails. 😉

As an Amazon Associate, I get a small commission from Amazon on sales made through my site.

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communication, family, lessons learned, narcissists, psychology

My mom confirms something important to me…

The featured photo is a picture of Mom and me in Sousse, Tunisia, over the New Year’s holiday in 1978. I was five years old. We lived in England at the time, so it wasn’t a super long journey.

Last week, I tried to call my mom a couple of times. I had forgotten that she was going to be having knee surgery. She had told me about it in March, I think, and it slipped my mind. My mom lives alone in a senior apartment community in Hampton, Virginia. The community was formed out of what was once a grand hotel. It overlooks the Chesapeake Bay. She has a wonderful view from her two bedroom apartment, where she’s lived since 2009. My dad shared the apartment with her, until he died on July 9, 2014.

My mom is going to be 85 years old this year. She’s still quite independent. Her mind is sharp. She still drives, though not as far as she used to. She doesn’t go out much, though, so I was a little worried when I called her three times and didn’t get an answer. Our neighbor’s mom is my mom’s age, and she’s been having some problems lately. She broke her leg, and a few weeks ago, she picked up the wrong keys to her house and got confused. Not being able to reach my mom caused me to to worry a little. I hoped she wasn’t suffering with the same things our neighbor’s mom (who is also a neighbor) does.

I sent one of my three sisters a private message on Facebook, asking her if she knew if Mom was okay. She reminded me about the surgery, but then contacted another sister– the eldest of the four of us– to confirm. Oldest sister said Mom was doing fine. The sister I contacted also called Mom’s apartment community to check on her, and they confirmed that Mom was okay. So that was that.

This sister and my mom have always had a lot of interpersonal issues. I don’t know what they stem from, but they’ve had difficulties for as long as I can remember. It’s too bad, too, because both my mom and my sister have things in common. They are both extraordinarily artistic. My mom can do almost anything with needles and thread. For years, she owned her own business, in which she sold cross-stitch, knitting, needlepoint, and other supplies. She taught many people how to do these needlecrafts (although I’m not among them). My mom, even in her 80s, has made some extremely beautiful things by her own hand. When I was little, she used to make clothes for me. She also knitted sweaters, hats, socks, and scarves.

My mom and one of her many incredible creations… She is a very gifted artist.

My sister, likewise, is very talented with needles and threads. She sews and does needle crafts, like our mom does. She’s also a legitimately gifted artist in the way most people think of artists. She paints, draws, and creates true works of art through many different mediums. In addition, she’s a skilled writer, having earned a master’s degree in journalism, and she has excellent taste in music. My sister introduced me to some of my favorite artists, including Kate Bush.

Really, though, my sister is probably best known as an artist. I’ve been to a lot of art museums, and I can tell you that I would expect to see something my sister did hanging in an art museum. Below are a few examples of her work:

You’d think my mom and my sister would get along famously. They have some things in common. But they don’t really get along. My sister seemed to mesh better with our dad (most of the time). I, on the other hand, have always gotten along with our mom. My dad and I fought a lot.

Back in July 2007, while Bill was in Iraq doing his “patriotic chore”, I attended my paternal grandmother’s funeral. Granny was almost 101 years old when she passed. She was much beloved by everyone in her community. I had to bring my dogs with me, because it wasn’t possible to board them. Consequently, when I stayed at the Natural Bridge Hotel (for the last time, it turned out), I got a room in the “cabins”, which were motel rooms on a hillside. My uncle ran the Natural Bridge Hotel for years, and I’ve stayed there many times. The last time I stayed, it was pretty uncomfortable. I think they’ve renovated since 2007, but I haven’t been back… in part, because it was uncomfortable, and in part, because of something my sister said to me that brings back traumatic memories.

After Granny’s funeral, my sister and I were talking. She was also staying in a “cabin”. For some reason, she chose that time to tell me that she’d always believed I wasn’t my dad’s daughter.

Keep in mind, we had just buried our grandmother, who was my father’s mother. If I wasn’t his daughter, that would have meant that Granny wasn’t my actual grandmother. She was pretty much the only grandparent I’d ever known, since my other grandparents died when I was very young. I do remember my mom’s father, but he had severe dementia when I was conscious of meeting him, and he didn’t really know who any of us were. I also met my paternal grandfather’s mother– my great grandma– but she was also very elderly and died when I was about nine years old. I didn’t have much of a relationship with her. So, as you might realize, Granny was very important to me– more so than she would have been in any case.

When my sister made that declaration to me, I will admit there was a part of me that wondered if what she was saying could have been true. My dad and I fought a lot. I don’t look much like him. Instead, I really favor my mom’s side of the family. But I only wondered about it for a moment…

My sister was telling me about how she formed this idea that maybe I was a “bastard” child. She said our mom was friendly with a neighbor in Hampton, Virginia, where I was born. She said he had blond hair and blue eyes, like mine. My dad had black hair and brown eyes.

I decided to gently challenge my sister. I say “gently”, because I didn’t want to fight with her, especially at Granny’s funeral. I asked her how it was possible that our mom could have had an affair. At the time, our dad was away on Air Force missions a lot. They had three children– my sisters are 13, 11, and 8 years older than I am. How would our mom have the time for adultery?

Also, our mom is painfully honest. I mean, she’s honest to a fault. I just couldn’t see her cheating on our dad. She isn’t the most demonstrative person, although she’s definitely friendlier and more demonstrative now, than she was when our dad was alive. There are a lot of things a person might say about my mom’s rather laid back mothering skills. The truth is, she was kind of neglectful to me– and she’d probably be among the first to admit it. I think she would have been better at mothering had she not been married to an alcoholic during the Vietnam War era, and had she not had four kids. But she has a strong moral compass and a very deep sense of loyalty and duty. She took excellent care of my dad until the bitter end of his life. I know she truly loved him, too, even when he wasn’t very lovable.

Finally, I suggested asking our mom point blank about it. My sister very quickly backpedaled, and said she had a wild imagination. It was clear she didn’t like that idea. Uh huh…

Still, for a long time, I wondered if there was any truth to my sister’s theory, because it was true that my dad and I had a rather contentious relationship. I didn’t know the people who were our neighbors in Hampton. I was a baby, and we left Hampton when I was about six months old, and moved to Dayton, Ohio, where my dad took a job at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. I only have the barest memories of Ohio. It’s probably a blessing. 😉 Dad and I didn’t share very much in terms of physical similarities. Now that I’m older, I think bone structure in my face looks like his, somewhat. Actually, I think I look a little like this particular sister, in terms of facial bone structure. She looks more like our dad, though, while I am very obviously my mom’s daughter.

Years later, I submitted my DNA to both 23&Me and Ancestry.com. I saw that a number of my DNA matches came from my dad’s side of the family. Obviously, I am his daughter.

Which brings me to last night’s chat with my mother. We’d been talking for about an hour and were about to ring off. Mom said the surgery and the drugs she was taking were causing her to need the toilet more frequently than usual. Before we finished our conversation, I asked her if she’d watched the coronation of King Charles III. Mom loves watching British ceremonies. She said she had, and that led to another rabbit hole of discussion.

The topic turned to Prince Harry and Meghan, and she brought up their children, Archie and Lilibet. I said that some people were speculating that perhaps the kids weren’t actually conceived between them (not that I believe that myself– it’s not really my business). I added that since everybody is getting their DNA tested these days, it would be hard to lie about something like that.

My mom said, “Well I want you to know that your dad and I are your parents.”

I thought that was kind of a weird thing to say, and before I knew it, I said “Well, thank you for that. There was some doubt at one point. But then I got my DNA tested.”

Naturally, Mom wanted to know what I meant. So I told her about that toxic conversation I’d had with my sister back in 2007… right after Granny’s funeral. I didn’t mention her name… but Mom quickly guessed who had said that to me. It turns out my sister had directly accused our mom of having had an affair. Mom thought maybe she was talking about the young Black male nurse who had been helping to take care of Dad in his last years. At the time, the nurse was an 18 year old nurse’s aid, and our mom was in her 70s. Dad had accused them of having an affair; he had severe dementia at the time. The idea of Mom having an affair with a teenager was ridiculous and laughable, and she did laugh about it. But no… my sister said Mom would have had an affair with a white person.

For sixteen years, I never mentioned to my mom that conversation my sister and I had. I hadn’t meant to mention it last night. To my mom’s credit, she was pretty cool about it and even apologized to me that my sister had said that. It was pretty hurtful.

And maybe I shouldn’t write about this here… Some people would find it inappropriate and too personal. On the other hand, abusers thrive on secrecy. They say and do mean things, counting on their victims remaining silent. In spite of what some people might think, I’ve been silent about a lot of things. It’s not really my nature to be silent, either. One of the gifts I inherited from my mom were, after all, the gifts of music and communication. Actually, I inherited both of those from my dad, too… Music and writing are a couple of a few things I got from him, even if I don’t resemble him physically.

I’m not angry with my sister. I don’t know why she has these issues with our mother. Some of the things she says seem rather fictitious to me… and in fact, she often reminds me of other people in my life with whom I’ve had to do battle. Perhaps dealing with her is one reason why I am so “saturated” when it comes to narcissistic types, like former landlady and Ex. My sister, by the way, thinks she’s an empath. Personally, I don’t really see it. Bill is an empath. I am not, and neither are any of my sisters.

I’m not sorry Mom and I had that talk. Thanks to DNA tests, I already knew that my sister’s conspiracy theory was utter bullshit. I never really believed her theory, even before I had my DNA tested. However, it was good to hear it from my mom, who even told me about the time I was conceived. Apparently, it happened after my dad had taken a “round the world” trip in the fall of 1971, escorting generals to different embassies. Mom said they used to joke that they were going to name me “Ethiopia”. She said she’d told me about that once, and I thought it was “terrible”. I swear, though, I don’t remember the story. She also said the person my sister thought she’d been messing around with was just a neighbor who, along with his wife, had kids the same age. They were just neighborhood friends. In fact, the wife of the couple recently sent Mom a letter. She’d tracked her down in Hampton.

We ended our conversation on a really lovely note. Mom said she loved me, and reminded me that I’d been a good kid who never got into trouble. I guess buying me a horse worked… (and my sister tried to take credit for that decision, too). I wished Mom a happy Mother’s Day, and said I’d call her before we go on vacation next month. It’s a gift to me that she and I can be friends now. She might be one of the few people in my family with whom I would probably choose to be friends, even if we weren’t related.

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communication, language, lessons learned, narcissists, YouTube

Are you experiencing envy, or is it actually jealousy?

As the days get closer to King Charles III’s coronation, YouTube personality, H.G. Tudor, has been making more videos about Meghan Markle’s inevitable narcissistic response to the “ballyhoo”. H.G. Tudor claims to be a narcissistic psychopath, and he makes many videos about other people he deems narcissists. Personally, I’m not sure he’s as narcissistic as he claims he is. I’m sure he’d argue with me about it… and I could be wrong. I just don’t think a really hardcore narcissist would care about sharing knowledge and personal experiences with the public, to “educate” them about their “kind”. He claims he does it because it “suits him”, and it’s for his own purposes. Maybe… and I do think he is very narcissistic. But as to the extent of his narcissism, who knows? And who cares? That’s not the main idea of this post, anyway…

One thing I notice and appreciate about H.G. Tudor is that he’s very precise about language and word usage. That happens to be one of my idiosyncrasies, too, although I confess there are times when I use words incorrectly. It’s just that I find words fascinating, so when I am corrected, I try to remember the correction and mend my ways.

Recently, I’ve noticed H.G. Tudor pointing out the difference between the words “envy” and “jealousy”. Many people think of those two words as synonyms and use them that way accordingly. However, they actually have distinctive meanings. And true to his narcissistic nature, H.G. Tudor sneeringly points out the difference every time he runs across comments in which someone dares to use the word “jealousy” when they really mean “envy”. It seems like people more often use jealousy in place of envy, rather than vice versa.

For those who don’t wish to look it up (for the love of GOD!), here’s a quick rule of thumb. The word “envy” is correctly used when you want something someone else has. For instance, you might feel envy if your best friend comes home with a brand new sports car or gets a big promotion at their job. You might be envious of a friend who gets to travel to exotic locations or has a really good looking partner.

“Jealousy”, however, is properly used when you feel protective or territorial toward something or someone. That’s when you feel like your position is threatened somehow. For example, you might “jealously guard” your property, or feel jealous when a potential romantic rival flirts with your significant other.

I must confess that although I did know the difference between the two words, like a lot of Americans, I mix them up all the time. But H.G. Tudor is correct, so I shall try harder to use those words properly. It’s good for the brain to keep these things in mind, and my brain needs all the help it can get.

My personal pet peeve is when people misuse (and overuse) the words “use” and “utilize”. There is also a difference in the meanings between these two words, but people frequently interchange them. I distinctly remember one time, telling a friend on Facebook that there’s a difference between the two words, only to be taken to task by another one of his friends who insisted that I was wrong (I’m not, by the way… For the love of God, look it up!).

The word “use” means to “consume from a limited supply or take something to achieve a result.” The word “utilize” means to use something beyond its intended purpose or in an unexpected way. They are NOT synonyms, although so many people mix them up that they’re probably by now considered synonyms in many dictionaries based only on popular usage.

You’d use a frying pan to cook your eggs. You’d utilize a frying pan to knock your husband unconscious for coming home drunk. You’d use a spoon to eat pudding. You’d utilize a spoon to open a can of paint. See what I mean?

A lot of people seem to think that “utilize” is a more “advanced” word, so they employ it as a means of sounding more formal or educated. Maybe it is a more advanced word, but only when it’s used properly. There are also situations in which both words will work. For instance:

I use old newspapers to line my cat’s litter box.

I utilize old newspapers to line my cat’s litter box.

Utilize works in that case, because newspapers are originally meant to be read, not spread in litter boxes for absorbing cat waste. But you wouldn’t correctly employ the word “utilize” in a situation in which you’ve employed an object for its intended purpose. For instance:

I utilize a curling iron to curl my hair.

Curling irons are meant for curling hair, so it would be more correct to write:

I use a curling iron to curl my hair.

Ditto:

I use a rake to gather the leaves in the fall, but I utilize a rake to beat my neighbor’s ass through the fence. (That would be quite an unexpected way to use a rake, right?)

I already have a lot of rather uptight language pet peeves like this… but I have to confess that H.G. Tudor has added another to my list. I will now make a point of using the words “envy” and “jealousy” properly. It’s the right thing to do.

Now… Mr. Bill has to leave town today, and I have some other stuff to get done. So, I think I shall end today’s blog rantings and get on with the day. I do hope you’re able to use the information I’ve provided in today’s post to good effect somehow. Maybe you’ll even be able to utilize it somehow, too.

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family, narcissists, religion

‘Tis often a good thing to be childfree…

The featured photo is another I took of a very fragrant bush in our neighborhood, as I walked my “furkid”, Noyzi. Just so you know, it pains me to write “furkid”. He’s my baby, but I don’t think of him in that way. Guess it’s my pragmatic side.

This morning, I decided to write a travel post about our progress in booking our summer vacation. It’s not surprising to me, but traveling in Scandinavia and the surrounding areas is EXPENSIVE. And that’s pretty much what the post is about, along with the hassles of using an American credit card in Europe. I’m not trying to complain, though… I knew it was going to be expensive. We’ve been to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden before. This trip is going to be especially luxe, and it’s going to last for about sixteen days. So yeah, we’re shelling out lots of money, although I found out this morning I could have shelled out a lot less. The price of the cruise we booked last week dropped significantly this week. Such is life.

As Bill and I have gotten older, I’ve found that I have less interest in traveling on a shoestring budget. And though Bill is a lot more tolerant of being uncomfortable, he’s come aboard the luxury train with me. 😉 Seriously, though. No one can ever accuse us of not having the experience of traveling on the cheap. I once spent three days on an Armenian bus to Istanbul. Three days with no showers, no bed, and lots of outside pit stops made less painful with someone else’s vodka. I lived for two years with no hot water and, often, no electricity.

Bill has been to actual war zones. I probably don’t need to say much more about that.

So yes, although we travel more like royalty these days, we definitely punched our budget cards along the way to get to where we are. As long as we can actually afford the travel and aren’t going into debt to do it, I don’t think there’s a problem. One main reason why we can afford such travel is because we don’t own a house, nor do we pay college tuition, or for orthodontia.

And… although Bill has two daughters, they haven’t really been in our lives. That wasn’t our choice. That was a choice their mother made on their behalf, when they were still kids. Bill paid generous child support for years, and that was pretty much the only part of “parenthood” I’ve personally experienced. Since it wasn’t really my money, nor did I have anything to do with the marriage failing, or the ensuing parental alienation campaign, I can barely say it was my experience. Not having children in our lives was a byproduct of an unfortunate decision Bill made years ago, having kids with a very selfish person who loves power and revenge more than she loves her children.

Now… having stated that, I want to make it clear. Bill loves his daughters and certainly doesn’t regret having them. He just would have been better of having them with me, instead of Ex. Because if he’d had his daughters with me, they very likely would have had much better childhoods. At the very least, they’d know their father, and have a less toxic relationship with their mother. As it stands now, my husband’s older daughter is still estranged from him, and his younger daughter, who has chosen to reconnect, is getting to know us both.

My husband’s younger daughter is a very lovely young woman and a fantastic mother. I’m glad I’m getting to know her, especially since I had a very bad first impression. It turns out she’s very much Bill’s daughter, and has his kind disposition. I wish I knew her better. I wish she could have been my daughter. I would have been proud to be her mom. But she’s not my daughter, and I am not her mother.

I always wanted to have children, and expected that I would have them. But having children obviously wasn’t in the cards for me. I’m grateful that I chose not to force the issue by either having children with a person (or people) I didn’t love, or resorting to medical means to have them. I know other people have made different choices. I don’t judge them for their choices. They just weren’t choices that were good ones for me, personally.

Why am I writing about this today? It’s mainly because as I was putting the finishing touches on our vacation, I saw a couple of things on Facebook that set me to thinking. One was a rather offensive meme someone shared. She is someone from my past, who married a man with children. Their mom died a few years ago, so she’s taken over the motherhood role. Today, she shared the below photo, though the children were way beyond babyhood when she married their father.

On the surface, this seems kind of like a sweet, comforting message, until you consider that some mothers are pretty terrible people. And some people who don’t have children are pretty wonderful people. I don’t think it really has much to do with God’s choices. Instead, it has a lot to do with very human choices, some of which are good, and some of which are tragically bad.

Nothing against my friend, who has taken on quite a challenge that involved a big lifestyle adjustment. But I totally disagree with the sentiment shared in the above photo, and I find it kind of triggering. I don’t want to be offensive, though, so I’m writing about how that photo makes me feel here, instead of on Facebook. Maybe she’d be upset that I’m writing this post… but I think I’m showing her more consideration than she’s showing people like me. 😉

I consider Bill’s decision to have children with his ex wife a terrible tragedy, mainly because he’s a loving, warm, nurturing, caring, and generous man, who would have loved to have had the chance to raise his children. Instead, he was replaced by Ex’s third husband, with whom she had more kids. Today, his younger daughter is getting to know the man she was denied the chance to know when she needed him the most. That opportunity to know Bill is a saving grace, but it’s a small comfort. She should have had him in her life the whole time, whether or not I was the one “chosen by God” to be her mother.

The second part of this post is inspired by an article I read on the God page. Lately, God has mostly been sharing “Am I The Asshole” posts, but today there was an article about a woman who went viral on Tik Tok for sharing about why she’s glad she’s “childfree”. I can personally attest to the fact that being “childfree” is a pretty good thing, especially in this era of random shootings. It wasn’t what I planned for myself, but it’s not a bad way to live at all. A lot of people have children so there’s someone to look after them when they’re elderly, but there’s no guarantee that a person’s children will do that for them. And, as I pointed out, in this era of random shootings and public health emergencies, there’s no guarantee that they’ll even be around for the job when the time comes. That’s also a pretty crappy reason to have kids. People should have children because they want to be parents, and wish to love and nurture children.

Although there will always be a twinge of regret, in my case, that I didn’t get to experience parenthood, I can also state that not having children also isn’t the end of the world. I’m grateful that I’m not a very religious person, because I think messages like the one in that photo can be extremely damaging and hurtful to people who buy into the idea that children are “gifts to the ‘worthy’ from God.” Life is hard enough without people feeling like they need to prove “God’s favor” by having a boatload of children… especially if they aren’t really suited for the task of raising them.

As for younger daughter, I continue to be amazed at what a kind, patient, loving mom she is to her three children. They are lucky to have her, and I know Bill is very proud of both of his daughters, even though one of them doesn’t deign to speak to him anymore. I guess, if God was involved in younger daughter’s being here, maybe it was so she could be a great mom to her own kids. But if God had anything to do with her birth, I also wonder what she did to “deserve” having an abusive, neglectful, narcissistic mother who has a habit of making her children divorce their fathers.

Younger daughter has said that talking to her mother gives her nightmares. Did God “choose” younger daughter to endure that kind of hell, as God supposedly “chose” Ex to be her mother because she was the “best” one for the job? And looking at that message again, how does it make younger daughter feel to know that God “decided” Ex was the “best” mother for her? See what I mean? That is a very TOXIC message for MANY people whose mothers weren’t loving and nurturing.

Go on YouTube and listen to videos about what it means to be raised by a narcissistic mother. It’s an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Honestly, though… I think sharing a photo like the one above could be a sign of narcissism. Ex has often mentioned how God has “smiled” on her by giving her five children, whom she has no problem using to achieve her own aims.

Below is a video H.G. Tudor posted about the potential future for Archie and Lilibet. I’m not sharing this because I think Meghan Markle is a narcissist (because while I do suspect she is, I don’t know for sure). I just think H.G. Tudor did a good job explaining what life is like for the child(ren) of a narcissistic mother.

Tsk, tsk, tsk…

And another for good measure…

Yes, this rings pretty true, too. The children are used as pawns or weapons, as the need arises. Pitiful… and unfair to everyone involved, ESPECIALLY the children.

Now… it has been pointed out to me, more than once, that Bill’s daughters are my stepdaughters. Technically, yes, it’s true that they are… or they were, anyway, before their mother (allegedly) got them adopted as adults by #3. But the reality is, I have only met them in person once, and that was twenty years ago. And really, I haven’t had the chance to be a mom figure to them, so I don’t see how I can call myself a stepmother, as opposed to their biological father’s wife.

If the meme above is true, I would hope that God would have done a better job of choosing their mother. I think a loving and just God would have picked a mother who would not have saddled her children with a parent who deliberately complicates her children’s relationships in the way that Ex has, mainly due to her own insecurities and selfish aims. Ex’s three eldest children have all changed their original surnames at least once. Former stepson had his birth name changed when he was a toddler; then it was changed again when he became an adult. Bill’s daughters’ names were changed to #3’s when they were both over 18, and younger daughter changed hers again when she married.

Am I really to believe that Ex was chosen by a loving God to do the “best” job of raising her kids? Sorry, but common sense and my ability to think logically both refuse to allow me to believe that.

Anyway, I have chores to get to, including the dreaded Thursday vacuuming. It’s time to close this post. I’m not complaining… I have a good life, and I know it. I just wish people would think a little bit longer before they share some of the things they do on social media.

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Bill, dogs, narcissists, royals, YouTube

Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet…

I don’t want to write a super long post today. Bill got home last night, and we have today to enjoy before he has to leave again tomorrow afternoon. He’ll be gone until Wednesday of next week, so this part of his “TDY” (temporary duty yonder) will be shorter. I’m grateful for that, because I always miss Bill when he’s gone, and because we still worry about Arran’s cancer suddenly going south.

Arran, by the way, is still doing well, except for the peach sized tumor that has formed on his left side. We’re going to Stuttgart for a few days in a couple of weeks to see our dentist. Hopefully, Arran can hang on through that time, or if he can’t hang on, he will go south at a time when Bill is here. As of right now, though, he’s still pretty vibrant. He wants to eat, take walks, snuggle with Bill, and sleep in our bed.

So… on with today’s topic. This week, the world learned that there’s a new prince and princess in our midst. That’s right– Prince Harry, and his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, have announced that their daughter, Lilibet Diana, was christened. And she’s now going to be known as Princess Lilibet. Likewise, her older brother, Archie, will be known as Prince Archie.

In spite of the recent strife between Harry and his British royal family, the Palace has confirmed the change in status. In fact, as I write this post, I’m looking at the official Web site for the British Royal Family, and the change has already been made.

What was my initial reaction to this news? Well, to be honest, I kind of groaned. I understand that as the grandchildren of King Charles III, Archie and Lili are entitled to be known as “prince” and “princess”. However, for the past several years, the whole world has heard endless griping from Harry and Meghan about how damaging and racist the royals are.

Harry has written a tell all book about his upbringing, with many shocking details about what it was like to be Prince Harry. Meghan has said that she felt “suicidal” when she was in the thick of royal duties for a short time. So why would they want to visit the burden of royal titles on their two young children? Especially when in the United States, those titles don’t amount to much of anything. There is no monarchy in the United States. Of course, a lot of us Americans enjoy watching the royals…

To be very plain, I think this move was calculated as Meghan desperately tries to stay relevant somehow. I’ve mentioned many times before that she makes my N chimes ring… and while I won’t say definitively that she’s a narcissist, I do recognize the signs and symptoms. I don’t think Harry is a narcissist. I think he’s being influenced by his wife. I also suspect that their story won’t have a very happy ending. But I could be wrong. We’ll see.

In any case, I hope the royal titles don’t result in Archie and Lili being bullied by their American contemporaries. Kids just want to belong, and fit in with their friends. Royal titles make sense to certain adults, but I suspect kids won’t be so impressed. I don’t know how factual the depiction of King Charles’s time at Gordonstoun School was on The Crown, but I do remember the show depicting him as being severely bullied because he was a prince.

Treated just like the others… except Charles wasn’t like the others…
Sigh… poor kid.

Some people think it’s time to abolish the monarchy anyway. It’s certainly a controversial idea, as Brits love tradition. I just find it puzzling that after all of the complaining Harry and Meghan have done about Harry’s family, they want to include their children in what they’ve repeatedly claimed is such a toxic entity. It kind of reminds me of how Ex had nothing but horrible things to say about Bill, yet still wanted to be part of his family. Very dysfunctional.

I suspect the timing of this announcement, which was on International Women’s Day (March 8), is very deliberate. As we all know, Harry and Meghan were recently brutally roasted on South Park. Comedian Chris Rock has also had a go at them on his Netflix special. King Charles III also evicted the couple from Frogmore Cottage, where they haven’t lived in years, anyway.

The couple is not particularly well liked in the United Kingdom, and I suspect they are quickly losing their appeal in the United States. Adopting royal titles on behalf of their children seems pretty tacky and tone deaf to me, even if the titles are the children’s birthrights. Seems to me it would be better to wait until the children are grown, and allow them to choose for themselves if they would like to be saddled with the burdens of royal life.

I guess it doesn’t surprise me that Harry and Meghan are now kind of backpedaling about their condemnation of the British Royal Family. Charles is about to have his coronation in May, so that also makes this announcement also rather strategic. Naming the children as prince and princess keeps the couple in the news…

A British take on this news. Yes, this is a birthright for the children, but actually taking the titles is a choice. It seems odd to me that they would choose to take the titles when Harry was reportedly so “damaged” by his royal upbringing.

Anyway, they aren’t my kids, and aside from it being in the news, it has no bearing on my life. I won’t lose any sleep over it. I just think it kind of goes against Harry’s and Meghan’s narrative… it kind of smacks of desperation and hypocrisy. I fear the children could ultimately suffer for it… or worse, they could make other people suffer as they grow up with royal titles that set them apart in a country where the titles are mostly meaningless.

I always enjoy H.G. Tudor’s takes on this couple and their shenanigans.

Also… it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Lili eventually adopts her grandmother’s name and starts going by Diana. Her mother, after all, goes by her middle name. Meghan’s first name is actually Rachel. I can totally see it. And I bet it wouldn’t be Lili’s idea, either. But we’ll see what happens… Maybe someday, this couple will no longer be in the news. One can only hope.

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