Saturday, February 24, 2018
Small rant or funny story from yesterday.
After spending the day watching movies on my couch while I tried to update my website I told my mother I was dropping my kid off at the mall and we were going to walk around and wait for her. It gives her a chance to get outside and saves me from driving back and forth (and back and forth). My kid was pissed, I mean what's more embarrassing than your mom at the same mall? You mom and almost cartoon like grandmother. It was an ugly fight which I took in 12 rounds.
So we drop off the kid and make our way into the mall (a giant outdoor shopping mecca that's actually really cool, a personal favorite) After about five minutes it's clear that my mother doesn't want to be there and she feels sick (which might just be from the fresh air her body lacks) so I ask if she wants to leave. She does. Great. Now I need to let the kid know and find a way home for her. I'm so pissed at this point because I fought for this mall trip. Wasted energy.
I throw my purse in the back seat and plot my way home on the now jammed surface streets. I turn onto Santa Monica Boulevard and I am immediately blinded by the sun. My already light sensitive eyes cannot deal with this and I literally cannot see a thing. I yell "SHIT!" quite loudly and tell my mother that I can't see a thing, she reaches into her purse, grabs her sunglasses and puts them on (her). Doesn't say a word. I cut over the right and pull over. She asks why and I tell her that I can't see. I blindly search for my purse in the back seat and find my sunglasses, get back into traffic and drive home.
This reminds me of the flight safety instructions: Put your own oxygen mask on before helping others. I truly believe that my mother took her life motto from that but only heard the first part.
This shit only happens to me.
Friday, February 23, 2018
So my mom is visiting. In a normal person's life this would be a good thing, a fun thing, a visit. In my ridiculous life it's like an unpaid babysitting job. I grew up in one of those homes where the kid raised the mom. I was free range and latch keyed. But not free range where I had fun and got to explore. More like I was out there on my own figuring it out by myself. Good times.
So now I get to sit around and do nothing as I hear how hard raising a teen is because she was a difficult teen. In all the stories I hear the references to children are about her and her sister. Never about me. Ever. Not once. Not kidding.
So I let her sleep in my recently done over bedroom, my sanctuary. My perfect zen space which I am quite proud of. She walks in and doesn't notice a thing. Nothing unusual there. This morning after she wakes up she says she has a question and we look at my memory board (like the one in the photo) I have memories of concerts, events, political stickers and other various things I find cool. She points to an old family picture of her, my dad, my sister and me. I love this picture not for the memory (I don't remember it) but for the 70s awesomeness. It is also the only picture I think I have of the four of us. Never a happy family the pic is just cool. The closest I have to normal.
So anyways, she points to the picture and I'm waiting for it, a memory, a story, a something! Nope, she proceeds to tell me that she remembers taking the pic because she remembers buying her outfit. Yup. That's it. The only thing she had to say about my perfect zen bedroom is that she remembers the outfit she wore in a tiny picture.
I just keep quiet. It's not worth it. Hold your breath and it will be over soon.
I tried to talk my husband about why I don't bother and he said I was still angry. Nope. No anger, just sadness and a complete lack of understanding how a person lives a life with her head in clouds.
For now I will keep my stories to myself and put them here because it's like talking to audience even if that audience is me. I'm an awesome listener.
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Why do people demand and expect respect based on age, relationship or title? Why do I have to respect someone just because they are older than me? When did that become a thing? Why is it rude when I treat someone older the same way they treat me? If someone older is a shit to me it's OK? No way. Tired of that. I don't give a crap how old a person is, anyone treating me with respect will be respected and anyone treating me like shit will, well, you know. I feel the same way with my kid. If you aren't respectful to her, she is going to react in kind. If you are interested in her life, she will reward you with an invitation to her world.
Demanding respect because of your position on a family tree? Sorry but that shit went the way of land lines and dial up.
That is all.
Saturday, February 17, 2018
I used to think moms who left their kids were terrible awful people. Then my daughter hit the teen years and I found myself wondering what life on the run would be like.
On a daily basis I hear how stupid, dumb, lazy and boring I am. I hear that I ruin everything, make life suck and generally exist to make her life awful. Then she needs something and I become number 1 mommy again. I just heard that I wasn't wanted at a volleyball tournament because she is embarrassed by both parents together. We suck as a duo. I mean we suck separately but are worse together. It's harder to pin us against each other when we both there. How do parents keep their shit together? Is this the reason for so many broken marriages and affairs? Do they beat us down to the point that we are incapable of being fixed?
Parents before us weren't as involved and while we were a handful we were never like today's teens. I believe this is the punishment for caring. Parents put their kids on meds at an alarming rate and I believe it's to stop the emotional abuse we are experiencing. I never realized that.
So I'm damned no matter what I do.
Apparently I am free tomorrow, anyone want to meet for brunch?
Monday, February 12, 2018
So after the election my Facebook page turned into a political rant page. Then I found solace and safety in a few private groups but I still posted my feelings. Realizing that it was pointless I took it to Twitter. I really enjoyed the resistance community I found there and was happy with the safe space that was created for our political angst. Recently someone asked my husband if I was OK because my tweets were troubling. So now I have no safe space? I guess that's why I came back here. While it is a public site and potentially I could reach millions, I know it's just me. That's OK. It gives me time to remember all my passwords so I can get new accounts and go back to doing what I want without judgement.
This shit only happens to me.
Sometimes I feel the need to look around for hidden cameras. I've written this before but some days are so full of next level shit it can't possibly be real.
If it's real I need to stop asking "what else can happen?" because one day I'm going shake my head (in that way I always shake my head) and it's going to snap off and roll away.
That would be a wicked series finale wouldn't it?
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Suppose last night for dinner I had a salad. Then later that same night I ate a six pack of Cinnabons. The next day when someone asked what I ate and I said a salad technically it's the truth right? Lies of omission are still lies but they protect us from looking bad or behaving in ways we shouldn't but who does that protect?
Just some thoughts in my head today.
and no, I didn't have any Cinnabons. Just some organic butter free popcorn which sucked.
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
Friday, February 2, 2018
Sometimes who you seek when you need advice matters more than what they say. When you go to someone who will always take your side you lose. Every time. Doesn't even matter what they say. You might as well talk to yourself, it does less damage. Getting a false sense of what is right can be dangerous. A true friend or ally is the one that tells you the truth and not what you want to hear. If you find yourself going to the same person over and over it's not because you trust them. It's because you are weak and need validation. These people are the ones in the same situation year after year.
That concludes my rant of the day.