Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Jet lag isn't a myth and doesn't require you to travel around the globe to feel it either. My whole body thinks it's the late afternoon right now and that I should be winding down after a leisurely walk with the family dog to a mint julep and BBQ pork. Lucky for me though, California has decided to warm up just in time to make me feel like I never left the horrid heat I just freaking came from. If there was anything I actually was looking forward to it was sub 90* temperatures --no such luck there.
I don't know what possessed me to actually get out of bed in the first place. My hubby was there, my two cats, and pup all snuggling so peacefully next to each other and yet I removed myself from our happy situation. A couple of years ago I would have NEVER been so responsible. Ha, responsible, is that why I'm blogging about it now?
I swear if I didn't know better I would say I was "sleep working" my way through the day. I think there should be one extra day gratis added in per vacation to increase productivity amongst employees. Think about the results of implementing a standard like that! I sure would come to work with a whole hell of a lot more vigor than I do today if I had been given a free day to rest up before coming back to work. Wouldn't you?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
My mom has stopped referring to herself as "mom" she is now officially "Nancy".
No lie. No exaggeration.
We all knew it would happen, one day, and now that day has now come. Perhaps it was the arrival of my 30's, or the fact that her 49th birthday is fast approaching, or that my father is getting married for the 3rd time...however it came to be, the page has turned.
I am not particularly upset that I no longer have the ability to call a person "mom." After all it was merely a name and not an attitude or role she ever endeavored to partake in, however hearing her say: "Hey Lease...it's Nance, gimme a call!" is strange. In fact hearing her refer to herself in the role of a friend is not only odd but in a way insulting and I wish to tell her: "um excuse me, but if I had the choice...you wouldn't have been a friend so let's stick to the family member role."
Is that TOO rude? Or is it more rude on her behalf to even think that I would accept her as an equal...I mean, she's got more loose screws than a swing set made by chimpanzees.
Oh and while we're on the topic of chimpanzees, her boyfriend finally found a job--as a custodian. How appropriate! At least he's accustomed to dealing with his fair share of shit.
:) Nothing like a healthy dose of sarcasm in the morning.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I have realized that starting school, buying a puppy, and being hospitalized are all not things to do when first moving into a new home. This makes it very difficult to find the time to do the unpacking process. For example, the moment I start to unpack a box of dishes and wash them (all by hand because I moved into the cutest 1920's cottage with NO, repeat, NO dishwasher) Bella decides it's time to poo. Now Bella is unbelievably cute. (see below)
However she doesn't leave time for much else, then throw in kidney stones & a swollen brain & somehow school EXAMS and nothing, and I mean nothing was done for the past week.
Of course I have my hubby, and man he does try but for some reason my illness seemed to take more out of him than me. He needed two days of recovery from MY emergency room visit, has anyone else had this problem? I mean, I felt down-right guilty for being sick! Poor guy couldn't make heads or tails of the day with me laid up...on one hand it was nice to know how much I was needed; on the other hand...wtf is going to happen when I head out to the Midwest to visit my dad for a week?
Here's my vision:
Dishes in the front yard being washed by the sprinklers. (yes we have modern irrigation)
Kitty litter in the toilet, after all it is a time saver.
A huge MASS of take-out boxes and fast food remnants in the fridge.
The heat cranked on 24-7
The backdoor open
He's out of sock & boxers, yet we have a washer & dryer
The phone's NOT charged & voicemail hasn't been checked since, well I left of course.
.....remind me to never get ill again.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
For example, 5 years ago I was driving and saw a white car, I thought nothing of the car...however there I go running in my mind. I grabbed a reel, the biggest in there and watched it. Next thing I know, I'm 30 miles from where I was before and frantically calling my mother screaming I'm lost...completely unable to determine how I got where I got. Of course, this is one of the most extreme instances of brain power vs. mental preparedness I have. However, yesterday I grabbed a reel and spontaneous vomited out my car window during my lunch break. Why do I keep grabbing these old memories from the dark corners of my mind. I would love to forget anything bad ever happened and I swear I have enough therapy bills to know that I have confronted my demons for hours and hours before now.
I really feel like this is just my problem too. I don't think others are as masochistic as I with my brutal regurgitation of the worst moments of my life. Granted, I recently had my world rocked, so maybe that's what I'm doing: running around trying to straighten out the shelves in my head after a earthquake. It's an odd analogy but it's the best one. I know that I haven't had these mental "freak-outs" for quite some time, and hopefully I will not continue to do so. Maybe once I place everything back in its place I can start putting new reels up again. Ones with puppies and new homes and birthday parties. Maybe.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
HOWEVER, it happened again. I'm not going to go into all the embarrassing details involving my friend's husband literally carrying me into his truck for safe keeping, the number of bruises I attained prior to said friend's husband appearing, or why I was so intoxicated on a Friday at 5pm. Let's just say something happened that BLEW my world up like at atomic bomb and the mushroom cloud is just clearing away. The point I am going for is not how hurt I am...that's obvious. Instead I'd like to focus on: WHY the HELL do people go around doing such STUPID things?
I am no angel by any one's estimation. However, I grew up. I learned from my past mistakes and I don't do them again. I understand that my actions reflect not only upon me but many others and I, in part, am responsible for the happiness of others. My good friends practice these same morals and all in all (despite I think all us girls want to shed, eh a few pounds) we are happy well adjusted people. Then there ore those "other" people. The kind that commit adultery, the kind that says "oh I used to love him," "oh whoops, did I steal your presentation idea," "Oh no! I would never share your deepest secrets with the National Enquirer." No the last one's never happened to me...but hey I bet it has to someone!
So to all these "other" people. GET A FUCKING LIFE!!! Whether you're male or female, married/single, gay/lesbian/straight, rich/poor...you are a freaking human being so treat the rest of us as human beings too. It's fine if you hate your life and your world have no family and no responsibilities and want to jump off a bridge. In fact, please do since it will save the rest of us from your indiscretions. Don't waste or time & hurt our lives by your messed up self-absorbed lives. Try just try once to forget you're a miserable piece of shit and think outwardly for all of us who don't want to smell your stink. PRETEND to be kind & thoughtful.
I have had a hard time with church and religion over the past 10 years or so, but I do believe in heaven. AND darn straight I plan on being there and forcefully sticking out my tongue at those "others" who don't make it through the gates. I know its not my place to judge...but it's not the "others" place to take either.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I should skip back a few chapters of my life to make this all a little more clear for those out there who have not had the pleasure of meeting my mom. The word STRESS takes on a whole new meaning when one's life involves the overly involved mama in my world. (For all intents and purposes of this blog for now and evermore, let's call her Mama.) Well Mama and I have a sorted past. I in fact disowned my mother for about 2 years of my life following a traumatic incident and have spent the past 5 or 6 attempting to be friends on some level with her. We are, fore the most part, friendly, as long as I do as she says. Have you seen the commercial for the TV show "Whatever Martha!"? Martha Stewart's daughter says something to the effect of "My mom wants whatever is best for me as long as it fits with what she wants." Mama is also afflicted with this problem. Mama loves me...after all I'm her pride and joy, her bragging rights, her one and only daughter. The problem is, if I don't agree with her...all the lovely stuff about me being her little girl changes into me being a demonic unloving hell spawn. No really, I am not kidding.
So, the breakdown...I took my mom to see the cottage and "get her perspective," bad idea. Within 10 minutes of being inside the cottage and in front of my would be landlord she had commented on everything she saw as "wrong" with the home and had taken my husband outside to convince him of her ways. (Hubby isn't a puppet thank goodness!) Within the process of her offending everyone in the room at least twice, I realized I actually really liked the home. So here's the crash: Mama & Hubby have me in the bedroom and say "Well what the hell are ya going to do?" Insert me crumbling here. There I went on the floor. Embarrassed and over-whelmed and HIGHLY confused. Hubby, this is why I married him, comes over and picks me up and tells me its okay...shields me from Mama, and says go ahead write the check, you like this place and I'll be happy here too.
So I write the check, after wiping my eyes so my new landlord doesn't think I'm a freak of nature and can't make a damn decision and then we head off to KFC. Mama goes for sushi with her significant other and the dog and for the first time ever says..."hey Lis, sorry I made you cry!" (AND you thought this was a negative story.) So although I fell like a complete moron still for crying at least I received an apology. Mama finally accepted the fact that she's a little too harsh and makes me breakdown, she called two times that night & yesterday again to make sure I was okay. If all works out well...maybe that'll be the last breakdown I have.
OH...n wish me luck on the move.