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Archive for the ‘OC’ Category

17 May

Community- the good, the bad, and the ugly

Posted by Sandi in Friends, OC, Random, daily smut

I live in Ladera Ranch, California. It's a new development in Southern California. It has only been around for about 10 years. It's new, it's hip, it's fresh and it's full of families. I love it here. At first glance it felt right. Kids were playing in the streets, big wheels were everywhere. There were families walking their dogs, women jogging, teenagers hanging out in the park. It felt like HOME. Home meaning Utah…. that little Mormon village I left and then missed so badly I almost died.

I have lived here among the Ladera families for two solid years now, and I am here to tell you it's not the "Utah" I thought it was.

BUT there is a sense of community. I found this out the hard way a few weeks back.

I received an email from a local business here in town. They informed me that a few women had been in the establishment and were talking about the "local mom with a ton of kids that hosts a provocatively explicit blog," when the conversation turned negative and the gossiping began, the owner said, "Hey, that's Sandi Benson you are talking about. She is a great mom and a kind person." They quickly changed the subject.

When I first read the email I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing guy that stuck up for me and my family. But as the days have gone by, I have found myself disturbed about the women that were talking trash. Who are these people? Do they even know me? I "know" a tiny handful of people, like four, and I know they wouldn't have been in this place or talking about me.

I told Brandon about this incident when he came home from Nigeria and he said, "The very reason this takes place here is the very reason you love it. It's a community."

I have been thinking about this and I think he may be right.

When my little Utah turned it's back on me, instead of circling the wagons like I had always thought it would……

Well….

I never felt more alone in my life.

Don't get me wrong, Mormons circle the wagons when disaster strikes, like when your kid gets hit by a car, or your mom dies, or you lose your job. Oh my hell, there is nothing like it. They come out of the wood work and lift you up and take care of you. BUT when you do something that you shouldn't have. WOW! They don't just abandon, they kick you on their way out. Even the people you thought were friends, they can't really hang out with you anymore because that would be condoning your bad behavior.

I definitely had friends that stuck by me throughout the divorce and still to this day are my dear friends. But the majority of people that knew the whole story…. what I had done…. they were outta there!

My safety net, my village, my people, my family….. they kicked me out to the curb and left me there.

Community.

What does it even mean?

I have a community right here on my blog. I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel supported. I feel surrounded.

Until I do something stupid…. Then, holy shit, I have felt the backlash.

Maybe that's what a community is for. To keep it's members doing the "right" thing according to the community guidelines. But for people like me, that dance to the beat of their own drum…. Well, it's tough. It's tough to fit in. It's difficult to conform and hard as hell to strike a balance of true self and acceptable behavior.

I have a friend in Utah. She is single. She is VERY active in the church and has found herself pregnant. For those of you not familiar with Utah and the Mormon church, being single and pregnant is UNACCEPTABLE! Especially when the guy that got you pregnant is a married man. She is about to experience the most horrible part of belonging to a community. The community she has lived in and loved her entire life is about to drop kick her to the depths of hell.

There is nothing I can do.

I can and will be one of the few that will offer her a kind word and not pass judgement. But I don't live in her neighborhood anymore. I won't be talking behind her back in relief society and whispering about her as she walks by me in the grocery store. But GODDAMNIT, there will be a dozen of her life long friends that will be.

Nothing feels worse than walking in those shoes.

I am grateful I lived to tell the tale of being cast out, because there were days that I didn't think I could go on. I will NEVER be a part of the church that did that to me and made me feel that way. But I have found that you don't have to belong to a church to get gossiped about or even cast out. People are doing it right here in my own backyard.

I want you all to do something for me today.

Call somebody that thinks a little bit differently than you, or dances to the beat of a different drum? Reach out to a loner, a loser, a mom that blogs and uses her kids real names, a single pregnant girl, a divorced dad… Stick up for somebody. You get the picture. Spread some love and some light.

We all need support. We all could use a little sticking up for. Be kind. You never know when the shoe may be on the other foot.

What that man did for me, right here in my own town… He made my freakin' day. I love that guy! I will say nice things about him and his business to everyone I meet.

Let's all show a little more love to our fellow men.

PS- Hi Ladera Ranch. I live here. My kids attend the same schools yours do. We shop at the same stores and eat at the same restaurants. Our kids see the same dentists. We sit in the same waiting rooms and at the same stop lights.

Nice to meet you all. If you "know" me because you read me, please say hi. It would be great to get to know you as well.

44 Comments »

30 Nov

Never a dull moment

Posted by Sandi in OC, mental illness

Just when things began to get under control in my life, our crazy neighbor, the one that wanted to run Warren G out of our neighborhood, and the one that screamed at Brandon about my "No on Eight" signs on my car, because "it’s Sodomy for God’s sake!" Yeah him, the one that is right next door to me…..

He came after Brandon tonight with fists flying, screaming at him, calling him a fucking idiot, all in front of our kids.

I was in the kitchen dishing up dinner when the doorbell rang. Brandon answered the door and I heard him say, in his pleasant, Ned Flanders, voice, "Hi neighbor." So I figured all was fine. Two minutes later, Jazzi, Kate, and Ty entered the kitchen to tell me the neighbors were being mean. I hear this kind of crap all the time, so I am still dishing up dinner and listening half heartedly. I say, "whose being mean?"

Jazzi said, "A grown up. He called dad a fucking idiot."

She had my undivided attention now!!! I left the dinner sitting on the counter and ran out the front door. Bronson, Shaylee, and a few other kids were standing outside watching our neighbor telling Brandon that he was going to "fuck him up." another neighbor couple joined the scene and attempted to calm the situation down. instead, crazy neighbor man called on nice neighbor man.

Things were getting exciting now.

Brandon is as cool as a cucumber. He just turned and walked away and that pissed off crazy neighbor even more.

We went in the house with all the kids and discussed the bad words and rotten behavior that they had witnessed in an adult. Brandon explained that what the neighbor had done was against the law. You may not threaten physical harm to anyone. We turned in into a life lesson and talked about the proper way to handle disputes, whether they are with siblings, or friends, or neighbors. Swearing, swinging, and threatening are NEVER okay. We emphasized it all by reporting the crazy man next door to the COPS. The kids loved that.

I hope we taught more than just our children a thing or two.

We will not be next door neighbors for much longer, but we have had three run ins with him in the two years we have been here. The guy who owns this house, Dave, got into it with him a year ago in LAX. Crazy neighbor approached him to tell him that he had ruined the neighborhood by leasing this home to us. Dave said, "What are you talking about? every person I have talked to around you loves The Bensons."

Crazy neighbor said, "You want to take this outside or in the ring?"

Dave was like, Holy shit dude you are a wack job! (I’m paraphrasing)

My best guess about how all of this started, was when we first moved in, we allowed our children to play with the Warren G kids.

The crazy neighbor ran right over to make sure I knew that those kids were trouble. I immediately get mama bear and think he is being prejudiced, and tell him, thank you for the concern, but I will decide who my children may or may not play with.

About a month later, Warren was arrested in LA over something, and the only reason I know is because in my mail box, is the TMZ report printed out and left for me. I was pissed! Who in the hell cares if Warren is partying in LA. His professional and party life do not have anything to do with his children playing with mine. The report in my mailbox crossed the line in my book and bordered on Mrs Kravitz.

Since he got nowhere with me, he approached Brandon, during the same week, to see if he would be more receptive. He told Brandon that Warren was no good and we shouldn’t engage with him at all. He told Brandon that Warren was a gang member, to which Brandon responded, "I am glad he has friends."

Crazy neighbor was unimpressed with us! He screamed and yelled at Brandon in our driveway about being irresponsible and being bad parents.

And since that day, almost two years ago, he has despised us.

My prop eight rant is posted here if you missed it.

And tonight’s fight was over my children riding their bikes in a rut on his grass where his wife backed over the lawn. According to him, my kids made it deeper and wider than his wife’s tire did. and if Brandon doesn’t fix it or pay for it, he will "fuck him up."

Saddest part of the evening- His little girl, maybe a ten year-old, was outside watching the entire thing and kept saying, "Please stop Daddy." at one point when he was swinging his arms and coming after Brandon, she jumped in front of him, begging him to stop, and he picked her up and sat her down behind him.

My heart aches for this guy’s wife and kids. If he comes that unglued over a little mud, I can’t imagine what he must do behind closed doors.

Best part of the evening- After he called me a fucking idiot, he told me he reads my blog!!

Hi Pat. I hope you get the help you need for your anger management issues.

Any of you readers interested in moving in here? We will be out by Tuesday.

28 Comments »

08 Oct

lessons learned

Posted by Sandi in My kids, OC, beach

This was two months after we moved to California, as in DECEMBER. Clearly the kids still thought they were tourists and swam in the ocean regardless of their attire and the weather. Thank God we have turned into real Californians and only swim in the pacific in the summer and in bathing suits.

We went to the mall yesterday and remembered how funny we thought it was, when we moved here, that the stores actually carried a fall line. "Like you need long sleeves in Southern Cal." Oh how foolish we were back in the day. I am wearing my scarfs, jackets and boots daily. Thank God we acclimated.

9 Comments »

09 Jun

gloomy=bitchy

Posted by Sandi in OC, Random, mental illness

I HATE JUNE GLOOM!

I just made it through “May Gray” by the skin of my teeth. June, here in Southern Cal, SUCKS! It might as well be November in Utah. It feels the same way. DESPERATE!

These clouds that sit upon us, feel like they are suffocating me. I can’t see the sun. I can’t feel the sun. It’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s heavy. The weight of everything is almost unbearable.

My logical mind knows this HELL is temporary. But the emotional side of me thinks I may die before the sun burns off the thickness.

I can barely get out of bed in the morning. My body aches. My head hurts. My eyes are yellow and getting darker by the day. There is no sun to be found. My medicine has been hidden by layers of pointless clouds. They are not providing us moisture, they are not nourishing our plants or trees. Instead they are parked on top of us like pointless ugly beasts. I HATE ‘EM

I am praying for some light. I am desperate for the warmth. I need it to function and to feel good.

Singing in desperation-

“Oh Mr. Sun, Sun

Mister Golden Sun

Please shine down on me.”

sigh……

23 Comments »

21 Nov

when UTAH meets THE OC.

Posted by Sandi in Brandon, Friends, OC, Utah

I grew up in Utah, and I am proud of where I came from. There are many things about that place that are ingrained in who I am and how I act. Now now, don’t get too excited “Utah” I am not blaming all my behaviors on you, just the good ones.’

I spent almost 35 years growing up there and raising my own family. It was/is not all bad.

I didn’t love how monochromatic it was. I craved diversity. I didn’t love the weather. Some people love the seasons, I do too. I love all the seasons except Spring, Fall and Winter.

It has been fun living here in the OC amongst people of all different races, nationalities, and religions. There is nothing cuter than middle school girls in their Muslim head wraps. I also love living in this paradise with year round gorgeous weather.

But there have been a few things that have been hard to get used to. For example,

In Utah:

It is okay to let your child out to play in the front of the house without following him/her.
It is fine to ride bikes in the street and even without a helmet.
It is acceptable to send your child next door to borrow an egg.
It is also acceptable to send your child next door because you are sick of looking at them.
It is okay to tell your children, “Go play!” and know that they will.
It is fine to have a sleepover at a friend’s house. (Without doing FBI background checks.)
You may say, “crap” “freakin” and “sucks”. You will NOT get detention for saying these words.
It is ok to get married and have babies before you can buy alcohol.
It is unheard of to send your child to school with a Starbucks.
It is acceptable to talk badly about celebrities, because they aren’t real people.
It is normal procedure to leave the house opened and the keys in the car.
You know all your neighbors. You hang out with them and talk to them.
You don’t say “play date” you just go play. Your parents don’t make friends for you.
It is easy to make friends in Utah.

Let’s talk about that last one for a minute….. I have very few friends in California. I have way more real friends in Utah and even, God forbid, on facebook. I have friends in the blogosphere too. So why in heavens name can’t I make a normal friend here in my neighborhood? Is it because my kids say ‘Freakin’? And they ride their bikes without helmets and supervision? Is it because I must appear half out of my mind with all these hoodlums running in and out of the house? Is it because I am not carrying the Gucci bag and I don’t drive an Escalade?

I don’t know why I haven’t been able to make friends here, but it is not for lack of trying.

Here is a perfect example of when Utah and The OC collide.

While we were moving into this neighborhood, seven neighbor kids who happened to be black were watching our movers unload. They came over to meet our kids. I was thrilled beyond measure that we had black faces on our street.

I met up with them the following day at the ice cream truck in front of the house. It was then we learned that these kids, some of them at least, belonged to the rapper Warren G. He had his cousin, and her two kids, and a sister, and her three kids also living in the house with him and his wife and their four kids. (They made us look normal.) Anyway. His cousin was about to deliver baby number three. She was counting down the hours that day.

She delivered the following week and I thought it would be nice to take something over to welcome the baby and congratulate the new mommy. That is what you do in Utah. When someone in the neighborhood has a baby, you bring food.

Brandon and I decided on Cupcakes since they had so damn many kids in that house, we knew the kids would love them if nothing else. That night, we walked on down the street and up to the door. We rang the doorbell and waited. We could hear the kids and the dogs going crazy. But nobody came to the door. We rang again and stood there looking like idiots I’m sure. The balcony door directly above where we were standing opened and Warren G stuck his head out. We are now, looking up in the air, holding our cupcakes and smiling.

Warren says, “Yeah?”

Brandon says, “Oh hi, we just wanted to bring some cupcakes down to your family since Misty had a baby.” (Yeah, Brandon said that and it sounded that dumb in real life too. It was a Ned Flanders moment.)

Warren says, “we cool.” (Read this like “weeecooo” in your best black rapper slang.)

I say, “Pardon me?”

Warren says, “we cool.”

I look at Brandon, “what the hell does that mean?” I whisper. “Does he want the cupcakes or is he saying ‘no thank you?’

Right at that moment the front door opens and there stands the kids and just about every other black person in Orange County. Someone takes the cupcakes out of our hands and shuts the door.

We are standing on the porch. ALONE. Puzzled and confused. That WAS NOT what we had expected.

Brandon and I stare at each other and walk back up the street. We are seriously dumbfounded. Brandon is like “What the Hell was that?”

I’m like “We cool?” What does that even mean? We vowed right then and there to NEVER pull a Utah stunt like that one again. We are better off without friends. Yeah, weecoooo!

23 Comments »