I'm not such a mean, awful, disgusting horrible person after all!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I never considered myself a cute kid or a pretty girl. I was the smart one, and that description always fit me fine. I was okay letting others be the cute ones or the pretty ones, because I figured out early that smart almost always was at the top of the pile.

I labeled myself as the crabby one, or the bitchy one, because I was determined to be right about everything. (Being smart, I usually was…)

Several years ago, I realized that my core group of BFFs and I had known each other for fifty years. As a surprise to each of the three, I sent really nice flower arrangements to every one of the BFFs, and the card thanked them for fifty years of friendship.

The friends were blown away. I got pictures sent to me of the flowers from each friend.

This past summer, one of my oldest friends lost her dad, and the plans were for him to be inurned at the National Cemetery. All of my friend’s siblings were scattered across the country, and none of them had served in the military. Her dad retired after 20 years in the Air Force, and he had been wounded in an aircraft crash in Vietnam. He was awarded two Distinguished Flying Crosses.

Mr VOW and I have seen some downright pitiful military funerals provided to folks who deserved full Military Honors. And COVID restrictions had backed up funerals outrageously. So Mr VOW stepped up to be the local liaison for this family and he nagged/coerced/badgered the correct people to get as much of a military funeral that was humanly possible.

It was so good to see my friend, and we spent some time catching up. Her family was comforted by the time honored rituals of a military funeral. She and I have been working to keeping in touch more than we had.

I was thinking of her the other day, remembering how we met as kids at Vandenberg AFB, where both of our dads were stationed in the early 60s. I smiled when I thought of some of the things we did and the fun we had. And then I had actual dates circling in my head. My dad retired in 1963, which meant she and I met in 1962.

While I’m still pretty smart, sometimes I think the edges of the smartness in my brain are crumbling a little bit. It dawned on me: 2022-1962=Sixty freakin’ years!

So this past week, I sent her some beautiful flowers. I signed it “with love and longevity.” Because not much survives 60 years these days.

So, I’m smart. I think I might also be nice.

~VOW

2

:+1:

3

No law against being both. I’ve always been attracted to smart women and am certainly punching above my weight with my present spouse.

4

I’ve seen people try to draw a distinction between being nice and being kind (e.g. here, here). To the extent that there is a distinction, it sounds like you were being kind (which is, arguably, better).

5

:+1::+1::+1::+1::+1:

6

Are you me? My mother told me numerous occasions I wasn’t nice. But here I am, making maple cookies for my sister. I don’t like baking and don’t care for male, but I love my sister. And sometimes even my mother, may she Rest In Peace.