quote from Glenda the Good Witch, to Dorothy after her house landed in OZ  /  Wizard of Oz, 1939

  Oops! That was “witch” not “bitch.” 

My bad.

“Glenda … her Golden Years”

(notice martini…Grey Goose, dirty, straight up, 2 olives on a flamingo swizzle stick, of course)

“Even a bitch can be a good fairy.”

fabflamingo, 2009

I’m not gonna waste my precious post space on the definitions of “bitch” in the dictionary…. We can pretty well narrow it down to female dog, malicious woman, and of course the verb…. to complain.

I have another……

Bitch -  a no-nonsense woman, of unwavering strength, who, might on occasion, piss people off. (Their reasons being their own, of course.)  Sometimes this is a good thing. Simply stated…You might have pissed off someone that was flatass wrong. In the South, this is a sought-after accomplishment.

Therefore, my darlins’, there are good bitches and bad bitches.

Fifty-eight years ago, today, I came into this world. Mom says I was ‘backwards”. Imagine that? Showing my ass…… what a bitch!

It seems I came from a long line of bitches.

Grandma (the one who messed around with Al Capone and was married five times and that I wrote about in a previous post) knocked a guy up side the head with a couple pounds of liver she had just purchased, because meat was being rationed during WWII. Seems the silly ass made a negative remark referring to the troops getting all the meat. There was also the underlying fact that at the time, her son, my dad, was a POW. What a bitch, Get ’em, Grandma.

Or when my darlin’, Aunt L, let a pressure cooker blow clean up, because she was mad at Uncle B. She was also the housekeeper from perfection hell, and I knew only a bitch could leave those beans on the ceiling for days. What-the-hell-ever-her-point was, I’m bettin’ she made it.  Uncle B cleaned up those beans.

The first time I met my 2^nd mother-in-law-to-be, she grabbed her 6’4”, 260 pound baby boy (2nd hubby), by his beard and shook him like a rag doll, saying “Where the hell have you been?” He stood in complete compliance. A stance I had never seen. “Mom, why are you being such a bitch?” Never missing a shake, she replied, “because you made me one.”  I loved her immediately. She was the head emergency room nurse for a county hospital. Strength was her middle name. No-nonsense was her game. 

Contemplating my life, as I so often do, reading the profound and poignant stories here on OS, I was inspired to share the awesome accomplishment of becoming the full-fledged bitch, my momma, my aunt, my grandma, and several mother-in-laws, inspired me to be. I feel I have permission to do so, considering the wonderfully sick humor here on OS.

 With the wisdom of age…  I reminisce of times when I’ve been called a bitch. Some actually to my face.

We all remember. Now is the time to admit it, ladies. Sometimes it put a smile on your face ‘cause you knew, just knew, you had stood up to someone or for something. Perhaps it was just speaking for those who could not.  Perhaps it was fighting an uphill battle. I know that sometimes it was actually fun…. to piss off the system and the assholes that were running it. Sometimes it made a difference.

If that makes me a bitch, so be it!

How ‘bout with your girlfriends? It is a term of endearment with us.

“Loooook at her. She got a new Lexus!”

“Bitch.” (And there is no hesitation to say it to one’s face. Always with loving undertones, kinda.)

Then there are the times when we might just, have sorta, deserved, to be called the “malicious” definition. But, hey, whatever. Not to linger on the negative……

Menopausal bitch is the absolute best. Barr none. You have a defense …I mean…excuse. I was amazed at my clear and precise comments to the almost husband…. that I would, in fact, be “keeping the car” he had loaned me and he and his little young friend could live happily ever after, and, oh yeah, I did send the notes to the crime lab and you are a lying shitass. He had never seen the “bitch.”

I was just proud she came, when I needed her.

And when cancer takes you by surprise… “She’s a hard core southern bitch and she won’t let this beat her.”  My friends were right.

I realize that women throughout the country have very different feelings about being called a bitch. I am just daunting you with my silly ass words of post-menopausal wisdom hoping to change you perspective. ..And that is…. Feel that little tinge of appreciation, the next time someone calls you a bitch. Especially if you just slapped some jerk upside the head with 2 pounds of liver ‘cause he wanted your baby’s food.

So today I say, Happy Birthday to me. God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, may I be a bitch for years to come. 

** Oh yes, precious ones, this is a desperate and may I add, bitchy, attempt for birthday wishes**

I’m just sayin’…. Sometimes being a bitch is a good thing. Oh god, that sounds so ….so….Martha Stewart. She’s such a bitch.