Hi, everyone. I miss you. I miss blogging and reading other blogs like I used to. I would like to say that I will be blogging more, but I don't know if I will. You see, my day usually goes like this:
5am (sometimes) -- get up and go for a run or hit the gym. Ok, full disclosure.....lately, it's been like, twice a month. Usually I sleep in until....
6:30am -- wake up at boyf's, walk and feed dog. Eat breakfast, then go to my house to get ready for work.
9am -- go to work. Yes, it takes me that long to get ready. There is significant dawdling. Unfortunately, I am already supposed to be at work at this time.....
9:20 -- actually arrive at work. I am lucky to have a boss that doesn't care I do this every day. Mostly because she spends the vast majority of her day on the phone, arguing with her lawyer or yelling at her soon-to-be-ex-husband. Or dealing with some other personal life fiasco. I detest my job. My boss is a big part of it. Don't get me wrong, she's a really nice, funny, cool person. I would totally go on vacation with her. I just hate working for her. I should really write a post about work...I have venting that needs to be done.
5:20 -- time to go home. Yes, I make up all the time because I was raised Catholic and if I don't work exactly 40 hours/week, I will go to Hell. If you're not Catholic in any way, you will never understand this.
5:40 -- get home, walk dog, put on comfy clothes (bye-bye, bra!). Boyfriend calls me to have our daily debate: will I make dinner at my house or will I make dinner at his house or will we go out to dinner. I hardly ever make dinner at my house, despite the fact that I much MUCH prefer cooking at my place (he doesn't have a vegetable peeler....or many other things you need to cook with. Which is fine, because he's a bachelor. But lugging my kitchen stuff over to his house all the time gets old sometimes.) He usually wins the debate. Which is fairly logical, because, as he points out, I always spend the night over at his house anyway. (He has a queen-size bed. Nuff said.)
Sometime in the evening -- I get to his house. We usually watch Jeopardy while eating dinner. Then we watch more tv until I fall asleep at 10pm. He is a freak who needs 5 hours of sleep every night, so he stays up.
If you review the list above, you will notice a lack of the following lifestyle activities: exercise, hanging out with girlfriends, blogging, puttering around my own house and doing things that do not involve a screen -- TV or otherwise. Unless we are at work or a doctor's appointment, we are probably together.
...and that is why I have put on 15 pounds. And why my house is a mess. And why I haven't paid my taxes yet. Or done any number of me-time things. Like blog. Or buy some new iTunes. The only reason I am doing this today is because I took the day off.
If you're anything like me, right now you are screaming at your computer, saying, "Dude! What are you doing? You have morphed into a 'we' and have forgotten the 'me'! This is not healthy for you or your relationship! Carve out some me time -- STAT!"
And you'd be right. But trust me, it's easier said than done. Mostly because he is my most favoritest person EVER in the whole world and I never get sick of hanging out with him. When I do have "VB time", I spend a lot of it wishing he was with me -- I just wish he was in the other room so I can get some stuff done.
Now, before you all begin gagging yourselves with spoons, I can tell you that we do argue. We have some things we will never agree on, like the fact that I would like his home to be free of cats and he would like it if I would be better about taking my dirty dishes to the kitchen. (I am notorious for leaving them on the coffee table.) But there is no one I'd rather argue with. Does that make sense?
I recently read an article where the author interviewed several couples. Each couple has been married for eons, and the author was trying to crack the case: what is the secret to a long marriage? Typically, the answer was never defined in this piece (article FAIL), but one part did stick out to me:
Author, addressing ancient husband: Did you ever have moments where you didn't want to be with her?
Ancient husband: Not be with her? What? No. Never. But did I ever want to kill her? YES. Many times.
And I totally understood.
So yes, it is going splendidly. We agree that this is what we've both been looking for all these years and we can't believe we dated all those other people who were so wrong for us. We talk about the future all the time. He gets upset if I speak of my future in a way that implies I'd be doing it as a single woman. We have named our children. Well, ok, we have named the first one. If it's a girl. I have started to realize that my future doesn't make sense if he's not in it. To quote The Princess Bride, it's inconceivable. Even The Czarina and MJ are asking me "So..............are you engaged yet????"
I have to reassure them that RingWatch 2013 is still on. But knowing him, he has stuff planned and up his sleeves, and I am totally clueless. Who knows. Part of me is screaming, "I AM 34!!!! LET'S GET A MOVE ON!!!" but and equal part of me is just happy I found him and I'm enjoying the ride. Ok, that's a lie. It's more like 80/20, respectively. My ovaries are shriveling, people. This ratio may grow even more lopsided if personal milestones continue to pass by without any bended knees taking place. New Year's? Nope. Valentine's Day? Earrings instead. (Which I adore, for the record.) Birthday? Well, at this point, he's 48 hours late....so I'm not holding my breath. Some of you are doing the math and wish to point out that we've only been dating for 9 months. To that, I say, shut the hell up because you're probably a smug married with a baby on your knee. When you know, you know. May 23rd will be one year, so perhaps then???
I have come to realize that good relationships are just as difficult to manage and understand as bad ones. With other guys (read: most of the jerks I dated), I was so wrapped up with "Does he really love me? Is he interested in committing?" Most of my mental energy was wrapped up in determining if he liked me. Now, most of my mental energy is split between 1) doing what I need to do to make this relationship a priority in my life and keep him happy and 2) figuring out how to fit him into my life without losing myself in the process. So it's a juggling game. I'm trying to navigate it. If you sagacious smug marrieds have any advice on how to do this, please impart your wisdom. I wish I could say I feel smothered...........but I don't. This is making it difficult.
In a deliciously serendipitous finale to this post, he and I just called each other at the exact. same. moment. We are ridiculous.
Showing posts with label I have problems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I have problems. Show all posts
Friday, March 01, 2013
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Getting You--and Me--Up to Date
I know I am supposed to be writing more about Hong Kong. And I will. But today, I really need to blog about more current stuff.
Gosh, I went to Hong Kong 3 months ago. It's a good thing I took photos, because one day, my kids will hate me for never recording anything about my travels. I am so bad about that kind of stuff. If you are friends w/me on the Book of Face (aka Facebook), you can see all my Hong Kong photos there. Otherwise, just sit on your hands and try to be patient. When the mood strikes, I will talk about it.
We all know I have been a very absent blogger over the last year or so. Part of that was because of my hectic job and my exhaustion at the end of the day. Looking back on it now, it was also because I have been in a very bad place ever since I broke things off with Ex-F. Although I had come to terms with my decision, and have no regrets, I found myself unable and unwilling to bounce back from it. It affected me much more deeply than I first realized, and I didn't have much of a support network to help me work through it. The Ex-F was my support network, and let's face it-- that just wouldn't be healthy. The Czarina only felt relief and doesn't see much point in talking about things from the past. MJ is too far away and even she admits she never answers her phone. My friends here are nice enough, but not so close that I can have heart-to-hearts with them.
I am rapidly burning out at my job. I do not like living in Savannah. I have put on a little more weight (not a lot, but enough that I can't wear the pants I wore last year) and I have become a total hermit. Aside from one or two things I have going on, I spend the vast majority of my free time watching tv on my couch, alone with my dog, eating junk food. (Part of this is also due to my recent obsession with current events, so I am learning a lot -- it's not a total waste! But that is for another post.) To make a long story short, I have not been myself lately. I have been a sad shell of my formerly vibrant self. My recent lifestyle is nothing I would wish on anyone and is certainly no way for a young woman to live. I am supposed to be happy and have all these friends and be running around doing stuff. Over the last year, I have been more lonely, more hopeless and more sad than I have ever been in my whole life. But no one (except my mom and MJ) knows. But even they don't know how bad it is. I have been pretty low. Like, scary low.
That's why I haven't blogged about any of it. It would just be a giant pity party. No one wants to read Debbie Downer's blog.
I suppose a shrink would say that I am intentionally shielding myself from any chance that I will ever date again, as a way to punish myself for having broken someone's heart. Or that I am so afraid of failing and ending up alone that I would just rather not even try. At least then, if I die alone, it won't be because I effed up, but because the universe didn't come through for me. (What, you didn't know the universe is supposed to be finding me a new boyfriend? Yeah, do you see how wacked out I am on self-pity??) A physician would probably tell me to exercise and eat right, so that I would feel better, gain more self-confidence and improve my mood. The Czarina just tells me all my problems are because of my weight and if I would just lose weight all my problems would magically disappear. They are probably right. Well, I think The Czarina's logic is a little off, but she means well. She's not the most sympathetic person in the world, let's face it.
It's not like I've never been through a bad breakup before. Or been lonely. Or overweight. Or suffered from bouts of insecurity. But I've always bounced right back before. For some reason, this time it was different. I have no motivation to change, even though I am not happy where I am now. This bummed-out period has been longer. Much longer.
I don't think I am clinically depressed, but I have been hovering around it and wallowing in self-pity for over a year now. Maybe I am undiagnosed. "I have a great apartment and a great job, and that's enough," I have been lying to myself. I feel like I've been on the Negativity-go-Round for a year, and I'd like to get off. It's starting to make me wanna barf.
See how fun this is? Wheeee! I know you are so glad you stopped by.
But the good news is, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I think that all my praying is starting to pay off. I think I am slowly coming out of it. I have been taking long walks with Sammy, and they help to put me in a slightly better mood. I am going to try and do more fun things not involving my couch. I just found a new church to go to, so that is also a good thing. After tiring of my coworkers nagging me, I put up a profile on OK Cupid (an online dating site) -- and let me tell you, I am so NOT into it. I haven't even replied to any of the emails. I am going to attend/try/go to anything that sounds interesting or fun. Even if it costs money (one of my favorite excuses to sit on my couch!). I am going to try and meet more people. I am looking forward to having news to share with someone when they call me and want to know what's new.
I am not going out this way. This has gone on long enough.
Ok, stay tuned for more optimistic (and funnier!) posts. Maybe more frequent, too. No more Debbie Downer. She's had enough space in my brain.
Gosh, I went to Hong Kong 3 months ago. It's a good thing I took photos, because one day, my kids will hate me for never recording anything about my travels. I am so bad about that kind of stuff. If you are friends w/me on the Book of Face (aka Facebook), you can see all my Hong Kong photos there. Otherwise, just sit on your hands and try to be patient. When the mood strikes, I will talk about it.
We all know I have been a very absent blogger over the last year or so. Part of that was because of my hectic job and my exhaustion at the end of the day. Looking back on it now, it was also because I have been in a very bad place ever since I broke things off with Ex-F. Although I had come to terms with my decision, and have no regrets, I found myself unable and unwilling to bounce back from it. It affected me much more deeply than I first realized, and I didn't have much of a support network to help me work through it. The Ex-F was my support network, and let's face it-- that just wouldn't be healthy. The Czarina only felt relief and doesn't see much point in talking about things from the past. MJ is too far away and even she admits she never answers her phone. My friends here are nice enough, but not so close that I can have heart-to-hearts with them.
I am rapidly burning out at my job. I do not like living in Savannah. I have put on a little more weight (not a lot, but enough that I can't wear the pants I wore last year) and I have become a total hermit. Aside from one or two things I have going on, I spend the vast majority of my free time watching tv on my couch, alone with my dog, eating junk food. (Part of this is also due to my recent obsession with current events, so I am learning a lot -- it's not a total waste! But that is for another post.) To make a long story short, I have not been myself lately. I have been a sad shell of my formerly vibrant self. My recent lifestyle is nothing I would wish on anyone and is certainly no way for a young woman to live. I am supposed to be happy and have all these friends and be running around doing stuff. Over the last year, I have been more lonely, more hopeless and more sad than I have ever been in my whole life. But no one (except my mom and MJ) knows. But even they don't know how bad it is. I have been pretty low. Like, scary low.
That's why I haven't blogged about any of it. It would just be a giant pity party. No one wants to read Debbie Downer's blog.
I suppose a shrink would say that I am intentionally shielding myself from any chance that I will ever date again, as a way to punish myself for having broken someone's heart. Or that I am so afraid of failing and ending up alone that I would just rather not even try. At least then, if I die alone, it won't be because I effed up, but because the universe didn't come through for me. (What, you didn't know the universe is supposed to be finding me a new boyfriend? Yeah, do you see how wacked out I am on self-pity??) A physician would probably tell me to exercise and eat right, so that I would feel better, gain more self-confidence and improve my mood. The Czarina just tells me all my problems are because of my weight and if I would just lose weight all my problems would magically disappear. They are probably right. Well, I think The Czarina's logic is a little off, but she means well. She's not the most sympathetic person in the world, let's face it.
It's not like I've never been through a bad breakup before. Or been lonely. Or overweight. Or suffered from bouts of insecurity. But I've always bounced right back before. For some reason, this time it was different. I have no motivation to change, even though I am not happy where I am now. This bummed-out period has been longer. Much longer.
I don't think I am clinically depressed, but I have been hovering around it and wallowing in self-pity for over a year now. Maybe I am undiagnosed. "I have a great apartment and a great job, and that's enough," I have been lying to myself. I feel like I've been on the Negativity-go-Round for a year, and I'd like to get off. It's starting to make me wanna barf.
See how fun this is? Wheeee! I know you are so glad you stopped by.
But the good news is, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I think that all my praying is starting to pay off. I think I am slowly coming out of it. I have been taking long walks with Sammy, and they help to put me in a slightly better mood. I am going to try and do more fun things not involving my couch. I just found a new church to go to, so that is also a good thing. After tiring of my coworkers nagging me, I put up a profile on OK Cupid (an online dating site) -- and let me tell you, I am so NOT into it. I haven't even replied to any of the emails. I am going to attend/try/go to anything that sounds interesting or fun. Even if it costs money (one of my favorite excuses to sit on my couch!). I am going to try and meet more people. I am looking forward to having news to share with someone when they call me and want to know what's new.
I am not going out this way. This has gone on long enough.
Ok, stay tuned for more optimistic (and funnier!) posts. Maybe more frequent, too. No more Debbie Downer. She's had enough space in my brain.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Back in the Saddle
I knew something was up when I began getting more emails from Ancestry.com than I did from real, actual people.
Then I started to think about the number of people I have met here in Savannah...outside of work.
Gradually, my activity on Facebook has dwindled to....well, nothing, really.
But I knew I had to do something when I found out The Czarina has more of a dating life than I do.
Yes, my own mother has something closer to a boyfriend than I do. Considering she is 63, this concerns me, and quite frankly, just seems wrong.
Time for action.
I will no longer turn down social invitations because I am tired or because I don't like staying up late. I will sleep when I'm dead. I will flirt with guys whenever possible, instead of just assuming they are not interested in me. I will get out of the house more, and exercise more. (I am thinking about getting a pair of those Reebok butt-toning shoes. Have you seen the ads? They are very convincing. I want my butt to look like the ones on the commercials.)
To see what I'm up against, let's see what I have already accomplished, and what sort of challenges I should expect.
Upside: The Ex-Fiance is moving out next weekend!! Yay!
Downside: I will not have much money left for social activities. I will have to get creative. Because I will be broke-edy broke broke. Until I get a tenant for my house in SC. Which at this rate will be in like, November.
Upside: I have been going out more lately.
Downside: It's been with a girl I will call Frenemy. We are in different departments, but the same building. She is a textbook frenemy: super fun girl, but you can only trust her as far as you can see her. Makes me a little nervous.
Upside: I have recently joined a Bible Study group. Never thought I would do that. Ever. I always thought those things were full of Bible-thumping weirdos. But it's really great. It's like free therapy. Very supportive, and I really like all the girls. I have always believed I am a Christian (er, well, attempted to be one, anyway), and now I am learning more about my faith, which is really great.
Downside: They are almost 100% married and pregnant/just had babies. Which means I know WAY more about diaper genies than is normal for someone in my stage of life. Hello? Where are the single women in this town? Besides my coworkers?
Upside: There are always lots of cool art-related events in this town. It pays to work for an art school! I am going to a photography show tonight.
Downside: Usually, the kind of guys at art-related events are at best -- not my type, and at worst -- gay. With all the married ones falling in-between. Ugh. Do I have to drive to a bigger city and be watching football to meet cute, straight, single guys? Sometimes I feel like this town is one big Greenwich Village. Full of Village People.
No offense to gay guys, but usually they don't like it when I try and make out with them.
Upside: I love my coworkers. They rock. Super fun, most of them are single, too.
Downside: Although I love hanging out w/them, sometimes it's nice not to talk about work, and I would like to get a wider group of friends here. Also, one of my coworkers (a girl I hired -- of course!) drives me INSANE. So sometimes I turn down invitations to hang out with them, just so I can avoid spending less than 40 hours with this girl. I can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. I so need to devote a whole post to her. It is long overdue.
Upside: I have also recently joined a political group. As I get older, I follow politics much more closely, and am excited to meet up with like-minded people. The next meeting is in early May. By my experience, guys do tend to like politics. This isn't the main reason I am going. I'm just mentioning this because this activity has a higher likelihood of me meeting those cute, single straight guys. That's just gravy.
Downside: Um...I don't think there is one to this. Cool.
Upside: Despite my weight gain (and lack of motivation to take it off), I must still "have it", because I recently found out through the grapevine that a friend of mine wants to hook up with me. It is always good to know I am not hideous or too old.
Downside: It is not someone I have feelings for in that way. He's a great guy, but I just don't see him like that. Also, I found out about all of this because the Ex-F told me about it -- apparently this guy asked Ex-F's permission to hook up with me. Not date me-- hook up with me. Kind of tacky. Kind of a dick move -- he and Ex-F are kinda friends. Who does that?? (I will blame his actions on the fact that he's going through a rough divorce right now.)
So now I need your help. Give me some ideas, people. How can I meet other single peeps? Preferably of the straight, single and beefy male variety? Cuz they are not hanging out at the vegan coffee shop, let me tell you. No wonder I am single. All the stuff I like to do (baking, coffee shop hanging, Target-shopping, antiquing) is stuff that a straight guy wouldn't be caught dead doing. Argh. How do people meet???
I took a walk in Forsyth Park yesterday. It's gorgeous there, and there's this big fountain where people like to get married. There was a wedding, and the happy couple was taking their post-nuptial photos as I walked by. They looked so happy and beautiful. I suppressed a twinge of envy as I noticed the groom was a lot older close up. And he had a bald spot.
Happy bride about my age = older guy w/bald spot.
Hmmm. Food for thought.
I have also considered getting on eHarmony, if only for the hilarity that is online dating. (Remember those posts, long-time readers?) I should do it, if only to make it up to all of you for my lack of posting. Ain't no post like an online dating post. Jeez, those were doozies.
I used to snicker at my college girlfriends who would talk about how they hoped to meet their future husbands while still in college. I thought they were nuts. Old-fashioned. Afraid of being independent. Why settle down when there are so many cute frat boys to make out with???
Now I'm 31 and stuck in a town full of gay dudes. I think I effed up.
Then I started to think about the number of people I have met here in Savannah...outside of work.
Gradually, my activity on Facebook has dwindled to....well, nothing, really.
But I knew I had to do something when I found out The Czarina has more of a dating life than I do.
Yes, my own mother has something closer to a boyfriend than I do. Considering she is 63, this concerns me, and quite frankly, just seems wrong.
Time for action.
I will no longer turn down social invitations because I am tired or because I don't like staying up late. I will sleep when I'm dead. I will flirt with guys whenever possible, instead of just assuming they are not interested in me. I will get out of the house more, and exercise more. (I am thinking about getting a pair of those Reebok butt-toning shoes. Have you seen the ads? They are very convincing. I want my butt to look like the ones on the commercials.)
To see what I'm up against, let's see what I have already accomplished, and what sort of challenges I should expect.
Upside: The Ex-Fiance is moving out next weekend!! Yay!
Downside: I will not have much money left for social activities. I will have to get creative. Because I will be broke-edy broke broke. Until I get a tenant for my house in SC. Which at this rate will be in like, November.
Upside: I have been going out more lately.
Downside: It's been with a girl I will call Frenemy. We are in different departments, but the same building. She is a textbook frenemy: super fun girl, but you can only trust her as far as you can see her. Makes me a little nervous.
Upside: I have recently joined a Bible Study group. Never thought I would do that. Ever. I always thought those things were full of Bible-thumping weirdos. But it's really great. It's like free therapy. Very supportive, and I really like all the girls. I have always believed I am a Christian (er, well, attempted to be one, anyway), and now I am learning more about my faith, which is really great.
Downside: They are almost 100% married and pregnant/just had babies. Which means I know WAY more about diaper genies than is normal for someone in my stage of life. Hello? Where are the single women in this town? Besides my coworkers?
Upside: There are always lots of cool art-related events in this town. It pays to work for an art school! I am going to a photography show tonight.
Downside: Usually, the kind of guys at art-related events are at best -- not my type, and at worst -- gay. With all the married ones falling in-between. Ugh. Do I have to drive to a bigger city and be watching football to meet cute, straight, single guys? Sometimes I feel like this town is one big Greenwich Village. Full of Village People.
No offense to gay guys, but usually they don't like it when I try and make out with them.
Upside: I love my coworkers. They rock. Super fun, most of them are single, too.
Downside: Although I love hanging out w/them, sometimes it's nice not to talk about work, and I would like to get a wider group of friends here. Also, one of my coworkers (a girl I hired -- of course!) drives me INSANE. So sometimes I turn down invitations to hang out with them, just so I can avoid spending less than 40 hours with this girl. I can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. I so need to devote a whole post to her. It is long overdue.
Upside: I have also recently joined a political group. As I get older, I follow politics much more closely, and am excited to meet up with like-minded people. The next meeting is in early May. By my experience, guys do tend to like politics. This isn't the main reason I am going. I'm just mentioning this because this activity has a higher likelihood of me meeting those cute, single straight guys. That's just gravy.
Downside: Um...I don't think there is one to this. Cool.
Upside: Despite my weight gain (and lack of motivation to take it off), I must still "have it", because I recently found out through the grapevine that a friend of mine wants to hook up with me. It is always good to know I am not hideous or too old.
Downside: It is not someone I have feelings for in that way. He's a great guy, but I just don't see him like that. Also, I found out about all of this because the Ex-F told me about it -- apparently this guy asked Ex-F's permission to hook up with me. Not date me-- hook up with me. Kind of tacky. Kind of a dick move -- he and Ex-F are kinda friends. Who does that?? (I will blame his actions on the fact that he's going through a rough divorce right now.)
So now I need your help. Give me some ideas, people. How can I meet other single peeps? Preferably of the straight, single and beefy male variety? Cuz they are not hanging out at the vegan coffee shop, let me tell you. No wonder I am single. All the stuff I like to do (baking, coffee shop hanging, Target-shopping, antiquing) is stuff that a straight guy wouldn't be caught dead doing. Argh. How do people meet???
I took a walk in Forsyth Park yesterday. It's gorgeous there, and there's this big fountain where people like to get married. There was a wedding, and the happy couple was taking their post-nuptial photos as I walked by. They looked so happy and beautiful. I suppressed a twinge of envy as I noticed the groom was a lot older close up. And he had a bald spot.
Happy bride about my age = older guy w/bald spot.
Hmmm. Food for thought.
I have also considered getting on eHarmony, if only for the hilarity that is online dating. (Remember those posts, long-time readers?) I should do it, if only to make it up to all of you for my lack of posting. Ain't no post like an online dating post. Jeez, those were doozies.
I used to snicker at my college girlfriends who would talk about how they hoped to meet their future husbands while still in college. I thought they were nuts. Old-fashioned. Afraid of being independent. Why settle down when there are so many cute frat boys to make out with???
Now I'm 31 and stuck in a town full of gay dudes. I think I effed up.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
I'm Alive!
Alright, I'm sure I am now down to two readers, but that's what I get for being MIA for a month, right? Oh well. I was thinking about making this blog public again, anyway.
Let me try and summarize the last month:
My new job, like all jobs, has its good things and its bad things. I like my boss and the girl who works for me a LOT. They rock, actually. A lot of my coworkers are cool, too. Like everywhere, though, I have to deal with a couple of douchebags, like this one lazy guy who balks at helping anyone else out and Miss Passive Aggressive, who loves to come down to my office and imply that I am incompetent and/or inflexible with the schedule (this is because I will not make everyone else work around her schedule). Of course, she does this under the guise of being "concerned". Argh. If there is one type of person I don't get along with, it's passive aggressive types. That kind of behavior irks the crap out of me.
My department, which was at 75% capacity, has recently been reduced to 50% capacity with the resignation of this one girl who worked for me. I tell you what, though, she was good riddance. She did nothing but create more work for me an the other girl in my department. But her leaving means she and I have to do a LOT more work, so I will be slammed at work until further notice: working extra nights, extra Sundays, teaching extra classes....oh well. Hopefully we will find a replacement soon.
But that's all well and good. Normal stuff that is to be expected. What is really bizarre is how uber-controlling this school is. Maybe it's because I am used to working in the public sector, but I feel like I am a member of the Savannah Mafia or something. Actually, it's more like a Nazi regime. My first realization came when I had to deal with the Communications Dept. Now, I understand that the school wants to have an "image" and I completely grasp and support the notion of "branding". But to tell me that I cannot print out a flyer that would -- gasp! -- help students find something in the library because that's not the "look" they want in the library is pretty ridiculous. Last time I checked, it's pretty difficult to operate a library without any frigging signs or information for its users.
Now, this goes for everything. Signs, handouts, flyers, bookmarks we make -- everything has to get "approval" from about 3 people. Then it has to be designed by someone else (who has no idea how I need it to look in order for it to work). This process takes three weeks. If I'm lucky.
This is the same department who printed up my business cards and told me I had to pick them up at their office. The stupid part is that they are open the same times I am at work. So that meant I had to go pick them up on my lunch break. Fine. Whatever. Screw interoffice mail, right? So I spend half my lunch break walking over there, only to be informed that they have sent the cards to the library already, via interoffice mail. "Well, don't you think that as the Communications Department, you should have communicated that to me before I spent my lunch break walking all the way over here?" I said. The girl just stared back at me and blinked. I turned and walked out.
The IT department is just as bad. I am not allowed to download so much as a plugin on my computer without -- again -- getting approval and submitting forms. Heck, I can't even pick my own desktop background or screensaver. I have to use theirs. If I want Microsoft 2007 installed on my computer, I have to submit an approval form, get approved, then attend a mandatory 3 hour training session, and then they would install it on my computer. Are. You. Kidding. Me.
It took me 3 weeks to get a key to my office. Three weeks! It was just sitting around somewhere. All I had to do was sign for it. Sounds simple, right? Not really. It was held in a building so far away that I had to drive to it. And, as usual, the building was only open during the same times I have to be at work. So I had to scramble over there, the whole time wondering, "Why don't they just keep the library keys in the library, since that's where they are just going to be going to anyway??" I tell ya, the state agency I used to work for aint' got shit on the major inefficiencies going on at this private school.
I still haven't gotten my code for the photocopier (each person gets a personal code, which is odd to me, as it seems a departmental code would be sufficient) or my code for dialing long distance on my desk phone. This also is odd to me, as it's the type of phone which operates over an internet connection, so there is no such thing as a long distance number. I soon realized that this is because they want to know what numbers I am calling. Whoa.
But Big Brother goes far, far beyond my little long distance code. If you are a new employee, you are often put in touch with a particular real estate company -- they have some sort of a deal worked out. This seems like a potential conflict of interest to me. I have heard that they also have their fingers in other pies: with the police force, with city concil...
If you do a google search for my school, you will find absolutely nothing negative about it. Not a blog, not a news article, not a press release. Everything out there is positive. Don't you think that is kind of odd? Especially when the girl who had my job before me sued the school for firing her improperly? (I have yet to find out why this woman was fired. No one is giving me a legitimate answer. It sounds very fishy to me.) And the guy who used to have my boss's job was fired for stealing thousands of dollars worth of items from the library? Or that last week the president's husband, who is the CEO or something for the college, was brought up on embezzlement charges or something? And that there was a group of students who sued the school, too? How the hell is this stuff not reaching the press???
The only thing I have found that even hints at being negative is an interview between the local paper and the president of the school a couple years back. The reporter asks if she thinks the school has moved past all its problems in the early '90s. She doesn't want to talk about it. She just says she wants to focus on the future. I have no idea what all these problems were in the early '90s. Neither does anyone else -- almost everyone at my library is new. Apparently, when the last director was busted for stealing a bunch of shit, a lot of people went down with him. They bascially cleaned house. Only a couple of people made it out of the fray -- and one of them was demoted in the process. And of course, the old timers aren't saying a word about what really went down. So to say there's been a lot of turnover is putting it lightly. (And as you can imagine, makes everything that much more difficult for the new people -- we are all trying to fix departments that have been screwed up for some time.)
Anyway, that's a glimpse into the type of work environment I am dealing with. I'm sure there will be more. I will share with you then.
Let's talk about the rest of things in my life. I havent' been blogging, because I can't afford to have internet at my place, and let's face it: I would be pretty stupid to blog from work in this job. But CN is moving in very soon (the 2nd week of April!!), so we will get it then. Yay!
As far as my apartment goes....it sucks. I have very little storage and a lot of wasted square footage. Since the house is old, it doesn't heat or cool evenly, leaving me shivering on the couch most of the time. (MJ got me a snuggie, which rocks for this particular problem!) And since the windows are old, any noise made outside sounds like it is actually inside.
Which brings me to my neighborhood. Thus far, I have had to deal with the college kids next door who like to throw parties in their backyard. This would be totally fine with me if their backyard was not underneath my bedroom window and if they threw their parties on nights when I didn't have to go to work the next day. The morning of St. Patrick's Day (my only day off from work until further notice), I was awoken at 6:50am by firecrackers just outside my bedroom window. WTF. I got up, jerked up my window blinds, and scared the crap out of the college kid next door. I yelled, "Can you please stop that?!!!" He gave me a deer-in-headlights look and apologized profusely and then went inside. (Yes, I heard what he said. That's how much I can hear through these old windows.) He's lucky I didn't kick his ass for throwing a kegger in his backyard only 2 nights previously. On a Sunday night. I ended up sleeping in my bathroom that night -- it's the only quiet room in my place.
But this is child's play compared to the other stuff I have had to deal with. There have been fist fights in the street, drunk people yelling at all hours of the night, domestic violence disputes, all kinds of crazy and loud noises, lots and lots of sirens, a car chase, trash thrown in my yard and my own personal favorite: the gunshots in my backyard the other night. Yeah, my neighborhood is super fun.
I have to say, though, that the cops have a really great response time. It's impressive, actually. I know, because I peek out of my window blinds when stuff happens, and I dont' stop looking until a cop shows up. And when the cops arrive, it's not just one car. It's like, four. So that does make me feel a little bit better. But not much.
I do not go outside when the sun goes down. I might go to Target or something, but never late. and I definitely can't take walks or anything like that after it gets dark. That would be a really bad idea. Have you ever had to live like that? Let me tell you what, you feel like a prisoner. For the most part, I get home from work and do not go back outside until I leave for work the next day. It is stressful and boring and frustrating.
I know it all sounds negative, but I do love seeing all the beautiful buildings and I love walking to/from work. During the daytime, it's totally safe, even in my neighborhood. And most of my problems with my neighborhood have more to do with noise than safety. I am getting used to the noise, and the sound machine CN got me helps, too.
As soon as either CN or I can find a renter for our house(s), we are moving to a safer and quieter neighborhood. A house with enough room for both of us and storage for our stuff. And electrical outlets. (I have one outlet in my living room. It is a royal pain in the ass.) And a backyard, rather than an alley full of dirt and overflowing trashcans.
It is probably no surprise to you that I have been wondering if I made the right decision. But I think I will end up really liking my job and liking Savannah. I think that like some first dates, you just get off on the wrong foot. I've gotta give it a second chance. And that will take some time.
Thanks for reading, guys. I will hopefully be back to blogging on a more regular basis soon.
Let me try and summarize the last month:
My new job, like all jobs, has its good things and its bad things. I like my boss and the girl who works for me a LOT. They rock, actually. A lot of my coworkers are cool, too. Like everywhere, though, I have to deal with a couple of douchebags, like this one lazy guy who balks at helping anyone else out and Miss Passive Aggressive, who loves to come down to my office and imply that I am incompetent and/or inflexible with the schedule (this is because I will not make everyone else work around her schedule). Of course, she does this under the guise of being "concerned". Argh. If there is one type of person I don't get along with, it's passive aggressive types. That kind of behavior irks the crap out of me.
My department, which was at 75% capacity, has recently been reduced to 50% capacity with the resignation of this one girl who worked for me. I tell you what, though, she was good riddance. She did nothing but create more work for me an the other girl in my department. But her leaving means she and I have to do a LOT more work, so I will be slammed at work until further notice: working extra nights, extra Sundays, teaching extra classes....oh well. Hopefully we will find a replacement soon.
But that's all well and good. Normal stuff that is to be expected. What is really bizarre is how uber-controlling this school is. Maybe it's because I am used to working in the public sector, but I feel like I am a member of the Savannah Mafia or something. Actually, it's more like a Nazi regime. My first realization came when I had to deal with the Communications Dept. Now, I understand that the school wants to have an "image" and I completely grasp and support the notion of "branding". But to tell me that I cannot print out a flyer that would -- gasp! -- help students find something in the library because that's not the "look" they want in the library is pretty ridiculous. Last time I checked, it's pretty difficult to operate a library without any frigging signs or information for its users.
Now, this goes for everything. Signs, handouts, flyers, bookmarks we make -- everything has to get "approval" from about 3 people. Then it has to be designed by someone else (who has no idea how I need it to look in order for it to work). This process takes three weeks. If I'm lucky.
This is the same department who printed up my business cards and told me I had to pick them up at their office. The stupid part is that they are open the same times I am at work. So that meant I had to go pick them up on my lunch break. Fine. Whatever. Screw interoffice mail, right? So I spend half my lunch break walking over there, only to be informed that they have sent the cards to the library already, via interoffice mail. "Well, don't you think that as the Communications Department, you should have communicated that to me before I spent my lunch break walking all the way over here?" I said. The girl just stared back at me and blinked. I turned and walked out.
The IT department is just as bad. I am not allowed to download so much as a plugin on my computer without -- again -- getting approval and submitting forms. Heck, I can't even pick my own desktop background or screensaver. I have to use theirs. If I want Microsoft 2007 installed on my computer, I have to submit an approval form, get approved, then attend a mandatory 3 hour training session, and then they would install it on my computer. Are. You. Kidding. Me.
It took me 3 weeks to get a key to my office. Three weeks! It was just sitting around somewhere. All I had to do was sign for it. Sounds simple, right? Not really. It was held in a building so far away that I had to drive to it. And, as usual, the building was only open during the same times I have to be at work. So I had to scramble over there, the whole time wondering, "Why don't they just keep the library keys in the library, since that's where they are just going to be going to anyway??" I tell ya, the state agency I used to work for aint' got shit on the major inefficiencies going on at this private school.
I still haven't gotten my code for the photocopier (each person gets a personal code, which is odd to me, as it seems a departmental code would be sufficient) or my code for dialing long distance on my desk phone. This also is odd to me, as it's the type of phone which operates over an internet connection, so there is no such thing as a long distance number. I soon realized that this is because they want to know what numbers I am calling. Whoa.
But Big Brother goes far, far beyond my little long distance code. If you are a new employee, you are often put in touch with a particular real estate company -- they have some sort of a deal worked out. This seems like a potential conflict of interest to me. I have heard that they also have their fingers in other pies: with the police force, with city concil...
If you do a google search for my school, you will find absolutely nothing negative about it. Not a blog, not a news article, not a press release. Everything out there is positive. Don't you think that is kind of odd? Especially when the girl who had my job before me sued the school for firing her improperly? (I have yet to find out why this woman was fired. No one is giving me a legitimate answer. It sounds very fishy to me.) And the guy who used to have my boss's job was fired for stealing thousands of dollars worth of items from the library? Or that last week the president's husband, who is the CEO or something for the college, was brought up on embezzlement charges or something? And that there was a group of students who sued the school, too? How the hell is this stuff not reaching the press???
The only thing I have found that even hints at being negative is an interview between the local paper and the president of the school a couple years back. The reporter asks if she thinks the school has moved past all its problems in the early '90s. She doesn't want to talk about it. She just says she wants to focus on the future. I have no idea what all these problems were in the early '90s. Neither does anyone else -- almost everyone at my library is new. Apparently, when the last director was busted for stealing a bunch of shit, a lot of people went down with him. They bascially cleaned house. Only a couple of people made it out of the fray -- and one of them was demoted in the process. And of course, the old timers aren't saying a word about what really went down. So to say there's been a lot of turnover is putting it lightly. (And as you can imagine, makes everything that much more difficult for the new people -- we are all trying to fix departments that have been screwed up for some time.)
Anyway, that's a glimpse into the type of work environment I am dealing with. I'm sure there will be more. I will share with you then.
Let's talk about the rest of things in my life. I havent' been blogging, because I can't afford to have internet at my place, and let's face it: I would be pretty stupid to blog from work in this job. But CN is moving in very soon (the 2nd week of April!!), so we will get it then. Yay!
As far as my apartment goes....it sucks. I have very little storage and a lot of wasted square footage. Since the house is old, it doesn't heat or cool evenly, leaving me shivering on the couch most of the time. (MJ got me a snuggie, which rocks for this particular problem!) And since the windows are old, any noise made outside sounds like it is actually inside.
Which brings me to my neighborhood. Thus far, I have had to deal with the college kids next door who like to throw parties in their backyard. This would be totally fine with me if their backyard was not underneath my bedroom window and if they threw their parties on nights when I didn't have to go to work the next day. The morning of St. Patrick's Day (my only day off from work until further notice), I was awoken at 6:50am by firecrackers just outside my bedroom window. WTF. I got up, jerked up my window blinds, and scared the crap out of the college kid next door. I yelled, "Can you please stop that?!!!" He gave me a deer-in-headlights look and apologized profusely and then went inside. (Yes, I heard what he said. That's how much I can hear through these old windows.) He's lucky I didn't kick his ass for throwing a kegger in his backyard only 2 nights previously. On a Sunday night. I ended up sleeping in my bathroom that night -- it's the only quiet room in my place.
But this is child's play compared to the other stuff I have had to deal with. There have been fist fights in the street, drunk people yelling at all hours of the night, domestic violence disputes, all kinds of crazy and loud noises, lots and lots of sirens, a car chase, trash thrown in my yard and my own personal favorite: the gunshots in my backyard the other night. Yeah, my neighborhood is super fun.
I have to say, though, that the cops have a really great response time. It's impressive, actually. I know, because I peek out of my window blinds when stuff happens, and I dont' stop looking until a cop shows up. And when the cops arrive, it's not just one car. It's like, four. So that does make me feel a little bit better. But not much.
I do not go outside when the sun goes down. I might go to Target or something, but never late. and I definitely can't take walks or anything like that after it gets dark. That would be a really bad idea. Have you ever had to live like that? Let me tell you what, you feel like a prisoner. For the most part, I get home from work and do not go back outside until I leave for work the next day. It is stressful and boring and frustrating.
I know it all sounds negative, but I do love seeing all the beautiful buildings and I love walking to/from work. During the daytime, it's totally safe, even in my neighborhood. And most of my problems with my neighborhood have more to do with noise than safety. I am getting used to the noise, and the sound machine CN got me helps, too.
As soon as either CN or I can find a renter for our house(s), we are moving to a safer and quieter neighborhood. A house with enough room for both of us and storage for our stuff. And electrical outlets. (I have one outlet in my living room. It is a royal pain in the ass.) And a backyard, rather than an alley full of dirt and overflowing trashcans.
It is probably no surprise to you that I have been wondering if I made the right decision. But I think I will end up really liking my job and liking Savannah. I think that like some first dates, you just get off on the wrong foot. I've gotta give it a second chance. And that will take some time.
Thanks for reading, guys. I will hopefully be back to blogging on a more regular basis soon.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Why I Only Visit Twice a Year
Many of you are looking forward to going home to see your family during the holidays. But some of us dread the holidays. Every trip there reminds us why we moved so far away to begin with. And why we only visit twice a year. I am one of those people.
A lot of my friends, who have never met my mom, have a difficult time understanding why I say I sometimes don't like her very much. If you were to meet my mom, you would think she was a very friendly, thoughtful, fun and supportive mother. The first time CN observed me talking to her on the phone, he thought she was really nice. (He could hear what she was saying, because he was sitting next to me.) "I don't know what you're talking about! Your mom is really supportive!" he said. Gradually, as I have started to tell him the stories and the crazy things she's said to me, he's starting to see where I'm coming from.
When he came up with me last summer, she was also putting on her "nice" face. She's always nice when there's someone outside of our family nearby. That's why I like bringing friends home with me and going shopping with her -- she isn't mean to me in those situations. But when outsiders aren't around, she has a tendency to hurt my feelings. A lot.
The first thing she says to me when I get to her house is, "Well, you look like you haven't lost any weight." Not "I missed you!" or "It's good to see you!" Or even "How was your drive?" Nope. It's a perfect opportunity to make a comment about how I am too fat for her liking. This is how she likes to start off the visit. Gee, it's great to see you, too, Mom. So glad I just drove 6 hours to hear you say that, I think to myself. So I step out of the car, and am instantly on the defensive. God forbid she just be nice. As much as this bothers me, I do have a large amount of respect for my mom, and I was raised not to sass, so I have to just take it. What I'd really like to do is retort, "Gosh, and you're looking so old!!"
When I get inside, I will inevitably remember that she doesn't keep any food in the house anymore, because unlike me, her world "doesn't revolve around food." She doesn't really cook anymore, which I understand, because it's just her and my little sister. So I usually have to get back in my car and drive a half hour to the store to get something to eat. Despite the fact that she knows I don't like eggs for breakfast and I can't stand salad, this is all she ever has to eat at the house. Coincidence?
When I get back from the store, if I'm lucky, she won't see me putting the food away. If she does see me, I get to listen to her criticize my decisions. Later, if she sees me eating something she doesn't approve of, she will take it away from me. Yup, you read that correctly. Snatch it right out of my hands. I am 3 when I am at her house. This is the sort of thing that happens incessantly when I'm home. I could be anorexic, snorting coke, fired from my job and crying myself to sleep every night, but as long as I am thin, that's all she cares about. She never cares if I'm happy. Just that I'm thin.
Anyway, after that, I will clean the kitchen, change the sheets on the bed and clean the bathroom. Then, I will put up the Christmas tree, decorate it and then cook dinner.
Now, I'm not trying to sound like an ungrateful daughter, because I do think I should help out while I'm there, and I don't mind doing the Christmas tree stuff or the cooking. By no means do I expect a red carpet to be rolled out for me when I get there, but dammit, can I feel a tiny bit less like a maid and a little more like a houseguest??? (In her defense, cleaning the kitchen and the bathroom are more my idea than hers, but that's because they are always filthy and I can't use them until they are cleaned up, because it bugs me when they are dirty.) I mean, if she could just put some damn towels out for me, it would be nice. Or even actually be there when I arrive. (Sometimes she's not even home when I get there, which makes me feel like crap.)
Great holiday vacation so far, huh?
At some point during the visit, I will get a big, fat lecture. If it had an official title, it would be: "Let me tell you how you are f***ing up your life". It could be a lecture about how fat I am, how I am not good with money, how I am messing up my love life by not remaining a virgin, how badly I need to get a new job or all of the above. I know I'm not unique in receiving these lectures. Lots of moms give these lectures. I just wish she'd realize that I'm almost 30, so I have heard them each a billion times. At this point, I'm pretty numb to them. I just wish she'd leave me alone and let me get back to whatever it was I was doing when she decided it was Lecture Time.
She wants to give me a new one, I can tell. She wants to tell me she doesn't like CN and thinks I can do better. I know she thinks this. The other day, she said to me, "Well, just know that if you two get serious.....you have my blessing. I think he's a very nice boy." (This translates to: He is not good enough for you. I wish you would dump him, because I think you are dating beneath yourself.) But she knows that saying that would piss me off, so she hasn't said anything. Yet. Getting serious with CN really bothers her for 2 reasons: She had no role in picking him out for me. (She would like nothing better than to set me up with some Tucker Carlson-type guy. She is a total control freak and always thinks that she knows better than I do about what makes me happy.) And also, it disproves one of her theories: No one will want to marry me if I don't lose some weight. So I know it bugs her. I know she wants to say it.
At another point in the visit, she will "forget" that Sammy likes to wander away when left to his own devices in the outdoors. This makes me panic, because I can't find him. When I realize that she is the one who "accidentally" let him out, it makes me furious. If I say anything to her, she will say, "Dogs belong outside, anyway."
This year will probably be a little different. I'm pretty sure we will have a HUGE, screaming fight. Which sucks, because it's Christmas. But right now, I am pretty hurt by one of her most recent emails. It's been about a week since she sent it to me, but I can't shake it. Which means I will still be upset about it when I go home next week. I am not very good at pretending like nothing is bothering me, which means I will say something about it. Because I have a big mouth. And I already resent her for all the other reasons I've just mentioned.
Ok, remember how I am painting my bathroom? I'm looking for the right shade of dark, purply-blue. With hot pink accents, white trim and lots of silvery, mirrored accessories. I was describing my decorating plans in an email to my mom a few days ago. Home decorating is a pretty safe, neutral topic for us to discuss. Or so I thought.
Her reply? (And I quote!) "It will look like a 1920s whore's bathroom! Love it! -- Mom"
Now, wtf is that supposed to mean? Aside from all of my mother/daughter issues, it doesn't even make any sense. Do prostitutes have a particular interior decorating preference? And if they do, how does she know what it is? Not only that, but when was the last time you ever heard someone describe a room as "whoreish"? That's not even a decorating style! It has no meaning! Unless I said I was going to use a pimp cup for a soap dish, I fail to see what reminds her of a whore house!
If you include my mother/daughter issues, there's a WHOLE other side to this email. Let me explain. According to my mother, if you have sex before marriage, you are a whore. Plain and simple. I know this is what she thinks, because when her friends' daughters have shotgun weddings or babies out of wedlock, she calls them whores. Not to their face, of course. She is not stupid as to why I am on birth control. So it's safe to assume she thinks I am also a whore. And yes, she uses that word. She is not one to sugar coat things. (I personally think she's probably being hypocritical about the whole thing, because she spent her 20s in an alcoholic stupor, passing out every weekend, so who KNOWS what she did when she was my age.)
Of course, she is not so rude as to come out and call me a whore. That would be mean and hurtful and judgemental. She will deny that she is like that until the day she dies. No, no. She phrases things in a confusing way so that she can get away with sort-of calling me a whore. Then she tacks on the "Love it!" to make it sound like she likes it, so she can confuse me. That way, I can't accuse her of actually meaning it. "But I like it! That's what I said!" she would say, if I brought it up. If I kept pressing the issue, refusing to believe that she didn't mean any harm, she will blow me off and refuse to talk about it anymore, claiming I am being too defensive or sensitive.
Which may be true. But really, when someone treats you the way that she does, can you blame me??? I think I have made a pretty good case against her behavior and how it makes me feel.
I cannot think of any other explanation for her choice of words. I mean, why would you EVER say that? Over email, no less, which she must realize has a higher chance of misinterpretation.
It used to be different, when my dad was still alive. He would call her out on stuff and tell her to knock it off. He understood where I was coming from. But now that dad's gone, there's no one to stick up for me. It's getting worse every year. My brother, Fat Dog, tries to stick up for me, but he doesn't understand why I can't just let it roll off my back. She treats my little sister the same way. Smurf must REALLY get it because it's just her and Mom most of the time. And she's only 16. She's not old enough to really see how Mom is or understand that Mom's not always right and you don't have to blindly do what she says or accept her behavior. At least at my age, I can see what she's doing. And I can move away and avoid her. Smurf doesn't have that ability.
Although I know what's going on and I am getting better about just ignoring her behavior, I don't know what exactly I can do to improve my relationship with my mom. I don't talk about it a whole lot, but it's been getting really bad lately. I know you are all like, "Talk to her!" "Write her an email explaining everything!" but it doesn't work like that. When you are dealing with a controlling and snarky person who NEVER admits that they have any bad intentions, it's impossible to get through to them. Accusing her of being cruel to me or hurting my feelings will only cause her to tell me to stop whining and being so sensitive. She will deny everything and tell me I'm misunderstanding her. And if I get her really riled up, she will get all drama-queen on me and say things like, "Well, if you really feel that way, I guess we just should never speak again!" and leave the room, which leaves me with a huge guilt trip. I mean, how the hell do you deal with someone like that???? That's not what I want! I love my mom. I just wish she would be nicer to me. For some reason, that is a lot to ask from her. I don't know what to do, so I usually just take it and never say anything. But it's building a LOT of anger and resentment inside me. And as a financially independent adult who lives 2 states away, I have the option of cutting her out of my life. Lately, I'm really liking this idea, because all she does is make me feel bad about myself. She only brings stress to my life.
I have gradually scaled back the number of visits I make to see her. I used to come up about 4 times a year. Now it's 2. I'm thinking about cutting it back to one. Or none. As sad as it is to say, I am considering not having a relationship with my mom at all. At this point, I only go home at Christmas to see my siblings. If I had my wish, she would not even be there.
I am not perfect. I make bad decisions sometimes. I know I'm sensitive. I know I need to lose weight. I know I am defensive. And she may not have meant anything in that email. But I can't ignore how she continuously makes me feel like a loser and hurts my feelings. You can't help how you feel. It just frustrates me, because she sort of robs me from expressing them. She's so caught up in proving that she's right all the time, and trying to control all my decisions, she doesn't even see how it's affecting our relationship. If I told her all of this, she would die of shock!
Thanks for letting me vent. Apparently, I didn't get it all out last night when I poured my heart out to CN and cried all my makeup off! It's really hard for me to talk about this, because it's really painful and personal. As much of an open book as I am, it is really hard for me to talk about this, even though I don't know most of you. I'm feeling a little vulnerable right now. But I'm like a volcano. I have been holding it in for so long. I just can't do it anymore. Sorry if I bummed any of you out. What's funny is that today is her birthday, and I feel really guilty for saying all this about her, even though she doesn't know I'm doing it!
A lot of my friends, who have never met my mom, have a difficult time understanding why I say I sometimes don't like her very much. If you were to meet my mom, you would think she was a very friendly, thoughtful, fun and supportive mother. The first time CN observed me talking to her on the phone, he thought she was really nice. (He could hear what she was saying, because he was sitting next to me.) "I don't know what you're talking about! Your mom is really supportive!" he said. Gradually, as I have started to tell him the stories and the crazy things she's said to me, he's starting to see where I'm coming from.
When he came up with me last summer, she was also putting on her "nice" face. She's always nice when there's someone outside of our family nearby. That's why I like bringing friends home with me and going shopping with her -- she isn't mean to me in those situations. But when outsiders aren't around, she has a tendency to hurt my feelings. A lot.
The first thing she says to me when I get to her house is, "Well, you look like you haven't lost any weight." Not "I missed you!" or "It's good to see you!" Or even "How was your drive?" Nope. It's a perfect opportunity to make a comment about how I am too fat for her liking. This is how she likes to start off the visit. Gee, it's great to see you, too, Mom. So glad I just drove 6 hours to hear you say that, I think to myself. So I step out of the car, and am instantly on the defensive. God forbid she just be nice. As much as this bothers me, I do have a large amount of respect for my mom, and I was raised not to sass, so I have to just take it. What I'd really like to do is retort, "Gosh, and you're looking so old!!"
When I get inside, I will inevitably remember that she doesn't keep any food in the house anymore, because unlike me, her world "doesn't revolve around food." She doesn't really cook anymore, which I understand, because it's just her and my little sister. So I usually have to get back in my car and drive a half hour to the store to get something to eat. Despite the fact that she knows I don't like eggs for breakfast and I can't stand salad, this is all she ever has to eat at the house. Coincidence?
When I get back from the store, if I'm lucky, she won't see me putting the food away. If she does see me, I get to listen to her criticize my decisions. Later, if she sees me eating something she doesn't approve of, she will take it away from me. Yup, you read that correctly. Snatch it right out of my hands. I am 3 when I am at her house. This is the sort of thing that happens incessantly when I'm home. I could be anorexic, snorting coke, fired from my job and crying myself to sleep every night, but as long as I am thin, that's all she cares about. She never cares if I'm happy. Just that I'm thin.
Anyway, after that, I will clean the kitchen, change the sheets on the bed and clean the bathroom. Then, I will put up the Christmas tree, decorate it and then cook dinner.
Now, I'm not trying to sound like an ungrateful daughter, because I do think I should help out while I'm there, and I don't mind doing the Christmas tree stuff or the cooking. By no means do I expect a red carpet to be rolled out for me when I get there, but dammit, can I feel a tiny bit less like a maid and a little more like a houseguest??? (In her defense, cleaning the kitchen and the bathroom are more my idea than hers, but that's because they are always filthy and I can't use them until they are cleaned up, because it bugs me when they are dirty.) I mean, if she could just put some damn towels out for me, it would be nice. Or even actually be there when I arrive. (Sometimes she's not even home when I get there, which makes me feel like crap.)
Great holiday vacation so far, huh?
At some point during the visit, I will get a big, fat lecture. If it had an official title, it would be: "Let me tell you how you are f***ing up your life". It could be a lecture about how fat I am, how I am not good with money, how I am messing up my love life by not remaining a virgin, how badly I need to get a new job or all of the above. I know I'm not unique in receiving these lectures. Lots of moms give these lectures. I just wish she'd realize that I'm almost 30, so I have heard them each a billion times. At this point, I'm pretty numb to them. I just wish she'd leave me alone and let me get back to whatever it was I was doing when she decided it was Lecture Time.
She wants to give me a new one, I can tell. She wants to tell me she doesn't like CN and thinks I can do better. I know she thinks this. The other day, she said to me, "Well, just know that if you two get serious.....you have my blessing. I think he's a very nice boy." (This translates to: He is not good enough for you. I wish you would dump him, because I think you are dating beneath yourself.) But she knows that saying that would piss me off, so she hasn't said anything. Yet. Getting serious with CN really bothers her for 2 reasons: She had no role in picking him out for me. (She would like nothing better than to set me up with some Tucker Carlson-type guy. She is a total control freak and always thinks that she knows better than I do about what makes me happy.) And also, it disproves one of her theories: No one will want to marry me if I don't lose some weight. So I know it bugs her. I know she wants to say it.
At another point in the visit, she will "forget" that Sammy likes to wander away when left to his own devices in the outdoors. This makes me panic, because I can't find him. When I realize that she is the one who "accidentally" let him out, it makes me furious. If I say anything to her, she will say, "Dogs belong outside, anyway."
This year will probably be a little different. I'm pretty sure we will have a HUGE, screaming fight. Which sucks, because it's Christmas. But right now, I am pretty hurt by one of her most recent emails. It's been about a week since she sent it to me, but I can't shake it. Which means I will still be upset about it when I go home next week. I am not very good at pretending like nothing is bothering me, which means I will say something about it. Because I have a big mouth. And I already resent her for all the other reasons I've just mentioned.
Ok, remember how I am painting my bathroom? I'm looking for the right shade of dark, purply-blue. With hot pink accents, white trim and lots of silvery, mirrored accessories. I was describing my decorating plans in an email to my mom a few days ago. Home decorating is a pretty safe, neutral topic for us to discuss. Or so I thought.
Her reply? (And I quote!) "It will look like a 1920s whore's bathroom! Love it! -- Mom"
Now, wtf is that supposed to mean? Aside from all of my mother/daughter issues, it doesn't even make any sense. Do prostitutes have a particular interior decorating preference? And if they do, how does she know what it is? Not only that, but when was the last time you ever heard someone describe a room as "whoreish"? That's not even a decorating style! It has no meaning! Unless I said I was going to use a pimp cup for a soap dish, I fail to see what reminds her of a whore house!
If you include my mother/daughter issues, there's a WHOLE other side to this email. Let me explain. According to my mother, if you have sex before marriage, you are a whore. Plain and simple. I know this is what she thinks, because when her friends' daughters have shotgun weddings or babies out of wedlock, she calls them whores. Not to their face, of course. She is not stupid as to why I am on birth control. So it's safe to assume she thinks I am also a whore. And yes, she uses that word. She is not one to sugar coat things. (I personally think she's probably being hypocritical about the whole thing, because she spent her 20s in an alcoholic stupor, passing out every weekend, so who KNOWS what she did when she was my age.)
Of course, she is not so rude as to come out and call me a whore. That would be mean and hurtful and judgemental. She will deny that she is like that until the day she dies. No, no. She phrases things in a confusing way so that she can get away with sort-of calling me a whore. Then she tacks on the "Love it!" to make it sound like she likes it, so she can confuse me. That way, I can't accuse her of actually meaning it. "But I like it! That's what I said!" she would say, if I brought it up. If I kept pressing the issue, refusing to believe that she didn't mean any harm, she will blow me off and refuse to talk about it anymore, claiming I am being too defensive or sensitive.
Which may be true. But really, when someone treats you the way that she does, can you blame me??? I think I have made a pretty good case against her behavior and how it makes me feel.
I cannot think of any other explanation for her choice of words. I mean, why would you EVER say that? Over email, no less, which she must realize has a higher chance of misinterpretation.
It used to be different, when my dad was still alive. He would call her out on stuff and tell her to knock it off. He understood where I was coming from. But now that dad's gone, there's no one to stick up for me. It's getting worse every year. My brother, Fat Dog, tries to stick up for me, but he doesn't understand why I can't just let it roll off my back. She treats my little sister the same way. Smurf must REALLY get it because it's just her and Mom most of the time. And she's only 16. She's not old enough to really see how Mom is or understand that Mom's not always right and you don't have to blindly do what she says or accept her behavior. At least at my age, I can see what she's doing. And I can move away and avoid her. Smurf doesn't have that ability.
Although I know what's going on and I am getting better about just ignoring her behavior, I don't know what exactly I can do to improve my relationship with my mom. I don't talk about it a whole lot, but it's been getting really bad lately. I know you are all like, "Talk to her!" "Write her an email explaining everything!" but it doesn't work like that. When you are dealing with a controlling and snarky person who NEVER admits that they have any bad intentions, it's impossible to get through to them. Accusing her of being cruel to me or hurting my feelings will only cause her to tell me to stop whining and being so sensitive. She will deny everything and tell me I'm misunderstanding her. And if I get her really riled up, she will get all drama-queen on me and say things like, "Well, if you really feel that way, I guess we just should never speak again!" and leave the room, which leaves me with a huge guilt trip. I mean, how the hell do you deal with someone like that???? That's not what I want! I love my mom. I just wish she would be nicer to me. For some reason, that is a lot to ask from her. I don't know what to do, so I usually just take it and never say anything. But it's building a LOT of anger and resentment inside me. And as a financially independent adult who lives 2 states away, I have the option of cutting her out of my life. Lately, I'm really liking this idea, because all she does is make me feel bad about myself. She only brings stress to my life.
I have gradually scaled back the number of visits I make to see her. I used to come up about 4 times a year. Now it's 2. I'm thinking about cutting it back to one. Or none. As sad as it is to say, I am considering not having a relationship with my mom at all. At this point, I only go home at Christmas to see my siblings. If I had my wish, she would not even be there.
I am not perfect. I make bad decisions sometimes. I know I'm sensitive. I know I need to lose weight. I know I am defensive. And she may not have meant anything in that email. But I can't ignore how she continuously makes me feel like a loser and hurts my feelings. You can't help how you feel. It just frustrates me, because she sort of robs me from expressing them. She's so caught up in proving that she's right all the time, and trying to control all my decisions, she doesn't even see how it's affecting our relationship. If I told her all of this, she would die of shock!
Thanks for letting me vent. Apparently, I didn't get it all out last night when I poured my heart out to CN and cried all my makeup off! It's really hard for me to talk about this, because it's really painful and personal. As much of an open book as I am, it is really hard for me to talk about this, even though I don't know most of you. I'm feeling a little vulnerable right now. But I'm like a volcano. I have been holding it in for so long. I just can't do it anymore. Sorry if I bummed any of you out. What's funny is that today is her birthday, and I feel really guilty for saying all this about her, even though she doesn't know I'm doing it!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Genealogics Anonymous
OMG. I need help, you guys. I am not exaggerating when I say that just about every waking minute of every day for the last week or so has involved me talking about genealogy, researching genealogy or thinking about genealogy.
MJ is about to kill me she is so sick of me talking about it.
CN caved in to my nagging, and is now letting me research his family, too.
To make it even worse, Ancestry.com gives you a free 14 day trial, so I'm trying to milk every last free minute out of them.
I have found relatives in Oklahoma, Seattle, Chicago, Massachusetts, Iowa, Minnesota, NYC, Kansas, St. Louis, Wisconsin, Virginia, upstate New York and Connecticut.
I have found the following weird first names: Karona, Gerhard, Aloysius, Cornelia, Herbert, Velvet, Elisha, Hepzebah, Bertha, Adelaide, Jerusha, Augustus, Eleazer, Ephraim, Jabez, Dorcas, Larvina, Hezekiah, Ulysses, Isolde, Chamberlain, Mercy, Ruke, Ebenezer, Asaph, Huldah, Prince, Waitstill, Celestine, too many Gertrudes to count and my favorite name so far: Bartimus.
I have found Revolutionary War heroes, Civil War casualties, steamboat operators, inventors, someone who went to court with Henry Ford, professors, dentists, judges, lawyers, real estate agents, oil company managers, doctors, bookstore owners, hardware salesmen, railroad engineers, preachers, and of course, lots and lots and LOTS of farmers.
I have, according to Ancestry.com, traced my family back to the 1380s (!!) in England. Obviously, there's no way to prove the records are correct, but then again, there's probably no way to disprove them, either.
Every once in a while, I stumble upon cool family stories and photos that other genies haves submitted to Ancestry.com or one of the other websites I'm using. Which is basically like crack to me. I will spare you these stories for now. Because telling them will only fan the flames. I am dealing with a serious addiction! Don't believe me?
These are the signs of an addiction:
Loss of interest in things that were important before.
Long, unexplained absences.
Decrease in performance at work or school.
Wanting to participate in addictive activity at all times of the day.
Increased desire for more of the activity.
Participating in the activity alone for long periods of time.
High tolerance for participating in the activity.
Preoccupation or craving.
Continued use.
Withdrawl symptoms.
Finding an excuse for doing it.
I'm even annoying myself at this point. I am not interested in going out, working out, reading a book or watching tv. For me, it's All Genie, All the Time. What if I can't stop? What if I turn into a shriveled up, little old lady genealogist who cannot hold normal conversations, because she constantly asks if you're referring to the Iowa McCrackens or the Minnesota McCrackens? ? Genealogy is pretty addictive, because there's always one. more. person. to. find.
Everyone has a mother and a father. And most people have siblings. It could go on forever.
I (obviously) haven't done much work, haven't gone to the gym, haven't cleaned my house...I haven't done much of anything, including blog reading. I am going to try and go on detox here this week, so I need your support. I think that in baby steps, I can make it out ok and come back to the world of the living.
Hi, my name is Virginia. And I'm a genealogy addict.
MJ is about to kill me she is so sick of me talking about it.
CN caved in to my nagging, and is now letting me research his family, too.
To make it even worse, Ancestry.com gives you a free 14 day trial, so I'm trying to milk every last free minute out of them.
I have found relatives in Oklahoma, Seattle, Chicago, Massachusetts, Iowa, Minnesota, NYC, Kansas, St. Louis, Wisconsin, Virginia, upstate New York and Connecticut.
I have found the following weird first names: Karona, Gerhard, Aloysius, Cornelia, Herbert, Velvet, Elisha, Hepzebah, Bertha, Adelaide, Jerusha, Augustus, Eleazer, Ephraim, Jabez, Dorcas, Larvina, Hezekiah, Ulysses, Isolde, Chamberlain, Mercy, Ruke, Ebenezer, Asaph, Huldah, Prince, Waitstill, Celestine, too many Gertrudes to count and my favorite name so far: Bartimus.
I have found Revolutionary War heroes, Civil War casualties, steamboat operators, inventors, someone who went to court with Henry Ford, professors, dentists, judges, lawyers, real estate agents, oil company managers, doctors, bookstore owners, hardware salesmen, railroad engineers, preachers, and of course, lots and lots and LOTS of farmers.
I have, according to Ancestry.com, traced my family back to the 1380s (!!) in England. Obviously, there's no way to prove the records are correct, but then again, there's probably no way to disprove them, either.
Every once in a while, I stumble upon cool family stories and photos that other genies haves submitted to Ancestry.com or one of the other websites I'm using. Which is basically like crack to me. I will spare you these stories for now. Because telling them will only fan the flames. I am dealing with a serious addiction! Don't believe me?
These are the signs of an addiction:
Loss of interest in things that were important before.
Long, unexplained absences.
Decrease in performance at work or school.
Wanting to participate in addictive activity at all times of the day.
Increased desire for more of the activity.
Participating in the activity alone for long periods of time.
High tolerance for participating in the activity.
Preoccupation or craving.
Continued use.
Withdrawl symptoms.
Finding an excuse for doing it.
I'm even annoying myself at this point. I am not interested in going out, working out, reading a book or watching tv. For me, it's All Genie, All the Time. What if I can't stop? What if I turn into a shriveled up, little old lady genealogist who cannot hold normal conversations, because she constantly asks if you're referring to the Iowa McCrackens or the Minnesota McCrackens? ? Genealogy is pretty addictive, because there's always one. more. person. to. find.
Everyone has a mother and a father. And most people have siblings. It could go on forever.
I (obviously) haven't done much work, haven't gone to the gym, haven't cleaned my house...I haven't done much of anything, including blog reading. I am going to try and go on detox here this week, so I need your support. I think that in baby steps, I can make it out ok and come back to the world of the living.
Hi, my name is Virginia. And I'm a genealogy addict.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Stalker
I have mentioned my stalker before. See here and here.
If you look at the dates on those posts, you will see that he's been bothering me since at least March 2007. Thankfully, it has not been continuous because he doesn't attend school every semester. I had kind of forgotten about him, because he wasn't here for the spring semester or the summer. But now, he's back. Every Monday and Wednesday, when he's got classes, he camps out in the library pretty much all day long. (We have learned that his mom drops him off in the mornings and then picks him up when she gets off of work. So he doesn't have a car, which is GOOD.) When he's here, I have to strategically avoid him and hope that he won't follow me to my car. This is not a good working environment!!!
He came up to the desk the other night and asked if he could talk to me. (Unfortunately, I stupidly told him my first name a long time ago, before I knew he would give me the creeps.) My coworker informed him that I had left for the day. But he creeped her out so much that she emailed me about it. He gives everyone the creeps around here, but for some unknown reason, he has become fixated on me, especially. In addition to dealing with his creepiness (staring, lurking, hanging out for no apparent reason, smacking his lips incessantly), I have also had to endure personal questions about my boyfriend and love life. It's pretty evident that this guy has some screws loose, so in a way, I have some sympathy for him. Which is why I have, in the past, sugar-coated my responses to his nosy and inappropriate questions.
As you can probably guess, this only encouraged him. Despite my heavy hints to leave me alone, he still wants to talk to me. It culminated with him finding my myspace page last April and emailing me a bizarre email. Since he was not here at school at the time, I didn't worry about it too much. But I kept the email he sent me, just in case. (When he is not at school, I do not have to really worry about him, as he does not have a car and lives on the other side of town. So the good thing is, he cannot follow me home or anything like that.)
Fast forward to last week, when he asked my coworker if he could talk to me. After hearing that he's now bothering everyone, and not just me, I have decided that I have had enough. In addition to his creepiness, he has been confrontational with some of my coworkers in the past. He's got a mouth and isn't afraid to get mouthy whenever one of us asks him to be quiet or obey the library rules. My coworker and I were talking about his attitude and ultra-creepiness the next day when she reminded me that some criminal records are considered public information here in SC, and were therefore, online. So we looked him up.
Here's what we found: disorderly conduct, domestic violence (multiple offenses against his own mother), resisting arrest, driving on a suspended license and assaulting an officer. And he's spent some time in jail. His rap sheet goes back to 1998, when he was still in high school.
After reading that, I was officially freaked out. If it had been one minor offense, I would not have really worried about it. But to see multiple offenses, some of which are violent, really worried me. He has the ability to turn violent. Against anyone. This guy has a temper, and I know that stalkers do not deal well with rejection. Grrrrrrrrrreat.
I knew I had to do something. But what??? Going to the police and getting a restraining order would only make me a target for revenge. He would know I am the one who filed it. And he could come into the library and totally wig out and/or shoot me or something. Or ramp up his efforts to talk to me. (Stalkers often see restraining orders as challenges to overcome. Yes, I did some research. I'm a librarian -- what did you expect?)
CN wanted to come to campus and follow him into the men's room with a crowbar. I told him that would not be necessary. But I appreciated the thought. He offered a less-violent, more legal idea -- how about he just come to campus and talk to the stalker? I turned down this idea. The last thing I need is for CN to be a target, too.
I decided to go to the office here on campus that deals with problem students. That way, it would be the school that is making the complaint, and my name would not be involved. I was pretty sure that he'd been causing problems around campus, so I was thinking maybe my statement would be the straw that could break the camel's back. If enough people complained, they'd have to do something, right???
I met with one of the student services peeps and told him everything. I even brought a print-out of the strange email he had sent me. When I informed him of my stalker's rap sheet, he looked at me in amazement. "How did you know about all that?" he asked. I told him it was public information. He made some scribbles in his notes, I assume listing all his criminal offenses. He said his office is very familiar with this student and they are "keeping an eye on him", whatever that means. He told me that if all he's doing is being creepy, they can't really do anything. He had sympathy for me, but he's right -- it's not a crime to be a wierdo. I knew the student services office had their hands tied until I could prove my stalker refused to leave me alone or did something violent. Unfortunately, this is the world we live in. And I understand that. But I at least wanted it on record that I had made a complaint.
But he did tell me that this student does have some mental problems, and that as long as I am firm but respectful, I should have some success in getting him to leave me alone. The student services guy said that other people on campus have had success with this strategy. He told me to always keep my phone with me, no matter where I am on campus. He also told me to never walk to my car alone. He also advised me to write down every encounter I have with him, including the date and time and place and what was said, so that we can start keeping track of everything. Yes, I realize now that I should have been doing this all along, but I stupidly didn't take this guy seriously. Luckily, I have mentioned him in this blog, which will help me at least report how long it's been going on.
According to their records, he's never been violent on campus, just mouthy. "There's a first time for everything," I thought. So I informed him that the only reason I was talking to his office instead of the cops was because I didn't want my name on a restraining order. I didn't want to make myself a target. I also said that if he didn't have a violent criminal history, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I had really wanted to go straight to police, to be honest.
Anyway, I am waiting to hear back from his office about what we can do. I told him I would like it if he was banned from the library entirely, if possible. And without my name specifically involved. Ideally, he would be kicked out of school! Until then, I have to just watch my back, be really firm with him and make myself more unavailable online. I am going to remove even more personally identifiying information on my myspace and facebook accounts. It can't hurt.
What makes me angry is that the whole office didnt' even know about his criminal record!!! You would think that after the Virginia Tech shootings, we would not have to deal with crap like this anymore! I mean, I know the school needs to make money via tuition, and I believe in privacy laws and giving people 2nd chances to turn their lives around, but at what cost? I'm not getting the impression this guy is interested in behaving himself or trying to overcome his bad past decisions. I think he's a potentially violent stalker who could flip at any moment and should not be allowed on campus. And I'm a little angry at how vulnerable my place of employment is leaving me. Who knows what other wack jobs are roaming around out here?! If I'm at risk, so are all of my coworkers. I hate that they basically wont' do anything until it's too late. That is a crappy policy. Have we learned nothing after Virginia Tech????
If you look at the dates on those posts, you will see that he's been bothering me since at least March 2007. Thankfully, it has not been continuous because he doesn't attend school every semester. I had kind of forgotten about him, because he wasn't here for the spring semester or the summer. But now, he's back. Every Monday and Wednesday, when he's got classes, he camps out in the library pretty much all day long. (We have learned that his mom drops him off in the mornings and then picks him up when she gets off of work. So he doesn't have a car, which is GOOD.) When he's here, I have to strategically avoid him and hope that he won't follow me to my car. This is not a good working environment!!!
He came up to the desk the other night and asked if he could talk to me. (Unfortunately, I stupidly told him my first name a long time ago, before I knew he would give me the creeps.) My coworker informed him that I had left for the day. But he creeped her out so much that she emailed me about it. He gives everyone the creeps around here, but for some unknown reason, he has become fixated on me, especially. In addition to dealing with his creepiness (staring, lurking, hanging out for no apparent reason, smacking his lips incessantly), I have also had to endure personal questions about my boyfriend and love life. It's pretty evident that this guy has some screws loose, so in a way, I have some sympathy for him. Which is why I have, in the past, sugar-coated my responses to his nosy and inappropriate questions.
As you can probably guess, this only encouraged him. Despite my heavy hints to leave me alone, he still wants to talk to me. It culminated with him finding my myspace page last April and emailing me a bizarre email. Since he was not here at school at the time, I didn't worry about it too much. But I kept the email he sent me, just in case. (When he is not at school, I do not have to really worry about him, as he does not have a car and lives on the other side of town. So the good thing is, he cannot follow me home or anything like that.)
Fast forward to last week, when he asked my coworker if he could talk to me. After hearing that he's now bothering everyone, and not just me, I have decided that I have had enough. In addition to his creepiness, he has been confrontational with some of my coworkers in the past. He's got a mouth and isn't afraid to get mouthy whenever one of us asks him to be quiet or obey the library rules. My coworker and I were talking about his attitude and ultra-creepiness the next day when she reminded me that some criminal records are considered public information here in SC, and were therefore, online. So we looked him up.
Here's what we found: disorderly conduct, domestic violence (multiple offenses against his own mother), resisting arrest, driving on a suspended license and assaulting an officer. And he's spent some time in jail. His rap sheet goes back to 1998, when he was still in high school.
After reading that, I was officially freaked out. If it had been one minor offense, I would not have really worried about it. But to see multiple offenses, some of which are violent, really worried me. He has the ability to turn violent. Against anyone. This guy has a temper, and I know that stalkers do not deal well with rejection. Grrrrrrrrrreat.
I knew I had to do something. But what??? Going to the police and getting a restraining order would only make me a target for revenge. He would know I am the one who filed it. And he could come into the library and totally wig out and/or shoot me or something. Or ramp up his efforts to talk to me. (Stalkers often see restraining orders as challenges to overcome. Yes, I did some research. I'm a librarian -- what did you expect?)
CN wanted to come to campus and follow him into the men's room with a crowbar. I told him that would not be necessary. But I appreciated the thought. He offered a less-violent, more legal idea -- how about he just come to campus and talk to the stalker? I turned down this idea. The last thing I need is for CN to be a target, too.
I decided to go to the office here on campus that deals with problem students. That way, it would be the school that is making the complaint, and my name would not be involved. I was pretty sure that he'd been causing problems around campus, so I was thinking maybe my statement would be the straw that could break the camel's back. If enough people complained, they'd have to do something, right???
I met with one of the student services peeps and told him everything. I even brought a print-out of the strange email he had sent me. When I informed him of my stalker's rap sheet, he looked at me in amazement. "How did you know about all that?" he asked. I told him it was public information. He made some scribbles in his notes, I assume listing all his criminal offenses. He said his office is very familiar with this student and they are "keeping an eye on him", whatever that means. He told me that if all he's doing is being creepy, they can't really do anything. He had sympathy for me, but he's right -- it's not a crime to be a wierdo. I knew the student services office had their hands tied until I could prove my stalker refused to leave me alone or did something violent. Unfortunately, this is the world we live in. And I understand that. But I at least wanted it on record that I had made a complaint.
But he did tell me that this student does have some mental problems, and that as long as I am firm but respectful, I should have some success in getting him to leave me alone. The student services guy said that other people on campus have had success with this strategy. He told me to always keep my phone with me, no matter where I am on campus. He also told me to never walk to my car alone. He also advised me to write down every encounter I have with him, including the date and time and place and what was said, so that we can start keeping track of everything. Yes, I realize now that I should have been doing this all along, but I stupidly didn't take this guy seriously. Luckily, I have mentioned him in this blog, which will help me at least report how long it's been going on.
According to their records, he's never been violent on campus, just mouthy. "There's a first time for everything," I thought. So I informed him that the only reason I was talking to his office instead of the cops was because I didn't want my name on a restraining order. I didn't want to make myself a target. I also said that if he didn't have a violent criminal history, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I had really wanted to go straight to police, to be honest.
Anyway, I am waiting to hear back from his office about what we can do. I told him I would like it if he was banned from the library entirely, if possible. And without my name specifically involved. Ideally, he would be kicked out of school! Until then, I have to just watch my back, be really firm with him and make myself more unavailable online. I am going to remove even more personally identifiying information on my myspace and facebook accounts. It can't hurt.
What makes me angry is that the whole office didnt' even know about his criminal record!!! You would think that after the Virginia Tech shootings, we would not have to deal with crap like this anymore! I mean, I know the school needs to make money via tuition, and I believe in privacy laws and giving people 2nd chances to turn their lives around, but at what cost? I'm not getting the impression this guy is interested in behaving himself or trying to overcome his bad past decisions. I think he's a potentially violent stalker who could flip at any moment and should not be allowed on campus. And I'm a little angry at how vulnerable my place of employment is leaving me. Who knows what other wack jobs are roaming around out here?! If I'm at risk, so are all of my coworkers. I hate that they basically wont' do anything until it's too late. That is a crappy policy. Have we learned nothing after Virginia Tech????
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
The Mother of All Lectures
The other day, I got an email from The Czarina. "Call me. I haven't talked to you in a while," it said.
You are thinking, "Oh, that's nice! She misses her daughter. VB, shame on you for not calling your mother!"
I am thinking, "DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!"
Since you are not her daughter, you wouldn't know that my mother's email message is code for: "Get ready to be lectured. Topic TBA."
So I decided that a good time to call her would be the next day. I wanted to just get it over with. Besides, if I called her in-between leaving my main job and going to my part time job, she could only lecture me for a maximum of 45 minutes. This was good. I would have an excuse to cut it short, if necessary.
Unfortunately for me, the next day was filled with lots of work-related stress here at the library, which I won't get into right now. So by the time I left my main job, I was already frazzled and on edge. I called The Czarina anyway -- again, just wanting to get it over with. I would not rank this decision high on my list of lifetime achievements, let me tell you.
The lecture topic? Why CN and VB Have No Business Dating, Let Alone Ever Get Married.
Not exactly a topic devoid of emotion, at least on my behalf. "Oh Jeez Louise!" I thought. "Not this! Not today! Why did I call her??"
She started with a rather insulting premise: "Now, I like CN. I really do. He is a sweet boy, and he treats you like a queen. And if you were to call me tomorrow and tell me that you two are engaged, I would be so happy for you. But let me just play devil's advocate here by saying..."
What followed was a litany of reasons why she thought he and I are incompatible: I am too domineering (which isn't good, since "the man must run the show"), he doesn't have enough ambition, I haven't had enough serious dating experience, he will be boring...yada yada yada.
Nevermind that:
1. I have never at any time called her to express any doubts about CN. At all.
2. I am nowhere near as domineering as she was towards my father, and they were happily married until the day he died.
3. This isn't 1955.
4. If ambition were important to me, I would never have dated most of the men I've dated over the past 15 years. In fact, all the lawyers and ambitious guys I've dated have either been pompous assholes or incredibly boring. Besides, I don't want someone who is married to his job. Funny, but I would like to see my man at the end of the day.
5. Last I checked, it is not necessary to turn down multiple marriage proposals before accepting the right one. (Mom would feel better if I had "already broken off a few engagements". Because that's a goal to strive for!)
6. CN and I have yet to be bored. Ever. Actually, he and I never lack for fun ideas of things to do together. We like to do all the same things: antiquing, shopping, exercise, reading, travel, etc.
And let's not forget the most important point I would like to make: CN and I have never talked about marriage, proposals or anything closely related to that. We haven't even been dating a year! For Pete's sake, I just got the guy to say the "L" word only about 6 months ago! UGH!
My mother is INSANE. The whole time she was rambling on and on, all I could think was that she was grasping at straws, looking for reasons to say why I was making The Biggest Mistake of My Life and totally wasting my time. There were moments when I honestly felt like she was just simply making shit up!
Of course, the realization that she is totally bonkers was overshadowed by the following thoughts inside my brain: "OMG what if she's right? What if she's totally wrong? How dare she say all of this, when she hardly knows him!! Why is she saying all of this, when I've never once come to her with complaints or concerns about my relationship? I am not feeling quite as concerned about all of this as she seems to be. But maybe I should be. After all, she has a 28 year marriage under her belt. I don't."
Fighting the urge to plead with her about why she seems to be interested in making me miserable, I tried to keep an open mind and remember that The Czarina has a tendency to think that
1. I am her mini-me. Which is simply not the case.
2. I am a moron who cannot think for herself. Thank God I have my mother to think for me!
3. Everything is more important than it actually is. (Can you say "high strung"?)
4. It is 1955.
So with my head spinning, I managed to get off the phone before I burst into tears. I was totally confused, not to mention upset that she looks at CN and sees flaws. But I have never been happier in my whole life than I have with CN. When I think about the future with him, I get butterflies, not worry or dread. I really don't have any major concerns, and I can't imagine him not being in my life. Besides, we haven't even talked marriage yet. But I trust my mother's judgement. She is, and I hate to admit it most of the time, almost always right.
I had to make sense of this. So that evening, I did a lot of thinking. And since I was stressed out and upset, I did what always makes me feel better: I talked to CN. I guess maybe I shouldn't have brought up that whole conversation with CN of all people, but my poker face leaves something to be desired. He could tell I was upset about more than just work that day. So he dragged it out of me. I told him about what The Czarina said and told him that I was confused and didn't know if these were her issues or if they were my issues. He was upset because he felt like The Czarina hates him. (And I can totally see why....which makes me feel really badly about bringing it all up...) He's also afraid that he's not what I'm looking for. As soon as he said that, I knew something didn't feel right. The Czarina's concerns just didn't sit well with me. They weren't meshing. The whole time she was talking, I never once thought, "That's a good point...I have actually been worried about that myself." All I could think was, "I'm not really getting where she's going with this."
I know it sounds stupid, but maybe it's a daughter thing. Or an oldest child thing. But even at my age, I crave my mother's approval and trust her completely. And you'd think that after moving away, going to grad school, buying a house and being financially independent, I would learn to trust myself a little more. But one lecture from my mother can make me doubt myself totally and without question. She could make me doubt that the sun rises every morning.
Luckily, as I have aged, there has been a little voice in the back of my head. It says, "You cannot live your life for your mother. You have to live it for yourself. Only you know what is best for you."
And the voice was there. And I listened to it. I am not exaggerating when I say this might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my whole life. Just trust myself. Believe in myself. Such a simple concept, right? But so terrifying.
If there were a resume for this sort of thing, it would be impressive. I listened to no one when getting my dog. I adore him. I picked out my house without the help of anyone else. I didn't even get a 2nd opinion before signing on the dotted line, and I have loved every minute of it. When I graduated college, it was my idea to try teaching school. It ended up being the only job I've ever loved. These were all big decisions and I was perfectly happy with all of them. It's so easy to forget that I've already done a good job in this department.
My mother was just crazy, that was all. I could ignore her. Nod and smile. Nod and smile. Cut the phone calls short. I can do that.
But why on earth was she doing this in the first place? Most of the time, our phone calls are jovial and relaxed. We talk about decorating or books or travel or our family. We trade exercise tips. But every once in a while, The Czarina will call me and I swear it's like her whole goal is to remind me of how I am screwing up my life! And it makes me hate her!
It wasn't until the next day that I had an epiphany. I realized there was a pattern to these horrible lectures. They tended to happen after I hadn't talked to her in a while. I used to be better about calling her once a week, and if I did call more often, the lectures would either be very mild or totally absent from the conversation. I don't get the lectures when I go home to visit her.
It seems that I get the lectures when too much time passes. It's like she sits and stews and thinks up all these things to advise me about. But by the time we talk, she's about to boil over, so it all comes gushing out: wrong boyfriend, wrong job, wrong diet, wrong town...you name it!
And since my dad passed away, the lectures have gotten worse. They are more frequent and longer.
Which leads me to my conclusion: When I don't call, it makes her feel like I don't need her anymore, which scares her. This causes her to grasp at straws, trying to think up reasons why I might need her. So she starts to make mental lists of things I am probably not thinking about or doing correctly, and then dumps them all on me at the next phone call. And now that Dad is gone, too, she has even fewer people to lecture, which is why she's been lecturing me more often.
After 29 years, I finally figured it out.
Some people are amazed and even heartbroken to hear how far away I live from my mother. But after phone calls like this, I want to move to a remote region of Siberia. And have no telephone.
You are thinking, "Oh, that's nice! She misses her daughter. VB, shame on you for not calling your mother!"
I am thinking, "DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!"
Since you are not her daughter, you wouldn't know that my mother's email message is code for: "Get ready to be lectured. Topic TBA."
So I decided that a good time to call her would be the next day. I wanted to just get it over with. Besides, if I called her in-between leaving my main job and going to my part time job, she could only lecture me for a maximum of 45 minutes. This was good. I would have an excuse to cut it short, if necessary.
Unfortunately for me, the next day was filled with lots of work-related stress here at the library, which I won't get into right now. So by the time I left my main job, I was already frazzled and on edge. I called The Czarina anyway -- again, just wanting to get it over with. I would not rank this decision high on my list of lifetime achievements, let me tell you.
The lecture topic? Why CN and VB Have No Business Dating, Let Alone Ever Get Married.
Not exactly a topic devoid of emotion, at least on my behalf. "Oh Jeez Louise!" I thought. "Not this! Not today! Why did I call her??"
She started with a rather insulting premise: "Now, I like CN. I really do. He is a sweet boy, and he treats you like a queen. And if you were to call me tomorrow and tell me that you two are engaged, I would be so happy for you. But let me just play devil's advocate here by saying..."
What followed was a litany of reasons why she thought he and I are incompatible: I am too domineering (which isn't good, since "the man must run the show"), he doesn't have enough ambition, I haven't had enough serious dating experience, he will be boring...yada yada yada.
Nevermind that:
1. I have never at any time called her to express any doubts about CN. At all.
2. I am nowhere near as domineering as she was towards my father, and they were happily married until the day he died.
3. This isn't 1955.
4. If ambition were important to me, I would never have dated most of the men I've dated over the past 15 years. In fact, all the lawyers and ambitious guys I've dated have either been pompous assholes or incredibly boring. Besides, I don't want someone who is married to his job. Funny, but I would like to see my man at the end of the day.
5. Last I checked, it is not necessary to turn down multiple marriage proposals before accepting the right one. (Mom would feel better if I had "already broken off a few engagements". Because that's a goal to strive for!)
6. CN and I have yet to be bored. Ever. Actually, he and I never lack for fun ideas of things to do together. We like to do all the same things: antiquing, shopping, exercise, reading, travel, etc.
And let's not forget the most important point I would like to make: CN and I have never talked about marriage, proposals or anything closely related to that. We haven't even been dating a year! For Pete's sake, I just got the guy to say the "L" word only about 6 months ago! UGH!
My mother is INSANE. The whole time she was rambling on and on, all I could think was that she was grasping at straws, looking for reasons to say why I was making The Biggest Mistake of My Life and totally wasting my time. There were moments when I honestly felt like she was just simply making shit up!
Of course, the realization that she is totally bonkers was overshadowed by the following thoughts inside my brain: "OMG what if she's right? What if she's totally wrong? How dare she say all of this, when she hardly knows him!! Why is she saying all of this, when I've never once come to her with complaints or concerns about my relationship? I am not feeling quite as concerned about all of this as she seems to be. But maybe I should be. After all, she has a 28 year marriage under her belt. I don't."
Fighting the urge to plead with her about why she seems to be interested in making me miserable, I tried to keep an open mind and remember that The Czarina has a tendency to think that
1. I am her mini-me. Which is simply not the case.
2. I am a moron who cannot think for herself. Thank God I have my mother to think for me!
3. Everything is more important than it actually is. (Can you say "high strung"?)
4. It is 1955.
So with my head spinning, I managed to get off the phone before I burst into tears. I was totally confused, not to mention upset that she looks at CN and sees flaws. But I have never been happier in my whole life than I have with CN. When I think about the future with him, I get butterflies, not worry or dread. I really don't have any major concerns, and I can't imagine him not being in my life. Besides, we haven't even talked marriage yet. But I trust my mother's judgement. She is, and I hate to admit it most of the time, almost always right.
I had to make sense of this. So that evening, I did a lot of thinking. And since I was stressed out and upset, I did what always makes me feel better: I talked to CN. I guess maybe I shouldn't have brought up that whole conversation with CN of all people, but my poker face leaves something to be desired. He could tell I was upset about more than just work that day. So he dragged it out of me. I told him about what The Czarina said and told him that I was confused and didn't know if these were her issues or if they were my issues. He was upset because he felt like The Czarina hates him. (And I can totally see why....which makes me feel really badly about bringing it all up...) He's also afraid that he's not what I'm looking for. As soon as he said that, I knew something didn't feel right. The Czarina's concerns just didn't sit well with me. They weren't meshing. The whole time she was talking, I never once thought, "That's a good point...I have actually been worried about that myself." All I could think was, "I'm not really getting where she's going with this."
I know it sounds stupid, but maybe it's a daughter thing. Or an oldest child thing. But even at my age, I crave my mother's approval and trust her completely. And you'd think that after moving away, going to grad school, buying a house and being financially independent, I would learn to trust myself a little more. But one lecture from my mother can make me doubt myself totally and without question. She could make me doubt that the sun rises every morning.
Luckily, as I have aged, there has been a little voice in the back of my head. It says, "You cannot live your life for your mother. You have to live it for yourself. Only you know what is best for you."
And the voice was there. And I listened to it. I am not exaggerating when I say this might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my whole life. Just trust myself. Believe in myself. Such a simple concept, right? But so terrifying.
If there were a resume for this sort of thing, it would be impressive. I listened to no one when getting my dog. I adore him. I picked out my house without the help of anyone else. I didn't even get a 2nd opinion before signing on the dotted line, and I have loved every minute of it. When I graduated college, it was my idea to try teaching school. It ended up being the only job I've ever loved. These were all big decisions and I was perfectly happy with all of them. It's so easy to forget that I've already done a good job in this department.
My mother was just crazy, that was all. I could ignore her. Nod and smile. Nod and smile. Cut the phone calls short. I can do that.
But why on earth was she doing this in the first place? Most of the time, our phone calls are jovial and relaxed. We talk about decorating or books or travel or our family. We trade exercise tips. But every once in a while, The Czarina will call me and I swear it's like her whole goal is to remind me of how I am screwing up my life! And it makes me hate her!
It wasn't until the next day that I had an epiphany. I realized there was a pattern to these horrible lectures. They tended to happen after I hadn't talked to her in a while. I used to be better about calling her once a week, and if I did call more often, the lectures would either be very mild or totally absent from the conversation. I don't get the lectures when I go home to visit her.
It seems that I get the lectures when too much time passes. It's like she sits and stews and thinks up all these things to advise me about. But by the time we talk, she's about to boil over, so it all comes gushing out: wrong boyfriend, wrong job, wrong diet, wrong town...you name it!
And since my dad passed away, the lectures have gotten worse. They are more frequent and longer.
Which leads me to my conclusion: When I don't call, it makes her feel like I don't need her anymore, which scares her. This causes her to grasp at straws, trying to think up reasons why I might need her. So she starts to make mental lists of things I am probably not thinking about or doing correctly, and then dumps them all on me at the next phone call. And now that Dad is gone, too, she has even fewer people to lecture, which is why she's been lecturing me more often.
After 29 years, I finally figured it out.
Some people are amazed and even heartbroken to hear how far away I live from my mother. But after phone calls like this, I want to move to a remote region of Siberia. And have no telephone.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Timelines
Well, after three verbal requests and a nasty email, I was a little pissed to see that my manager at Dildo's was still ignoring my request for a weekend off. When I got to work on Wednesday, she hadn't even so much as given me a courtesy reply to my email. Not even a "I will have to see about this. I will talk to you later about it." -- I got nothing. Nada. [insert rage and frustration here.]
I knew she hadn't left work yet, so I paged her. No reply. I knew she was ignoring me. [insert more rage and frustration here.]
About a half hour later, I see her, trying to sneak away by taking the long way around the jewelry department. It was raining, and she even had the nerve to sort of hold her umbrella in front of her face. As if I'm not going to know it's her!!! ARGH.
"Heather!" I shouted, accusingly. She was so busted. She stopped, put down the umbrella, and glared at me.
"I need to talk to you about my schedule," I continued, unfazed. "I'm tired of this. I need a weekend off. And why didn't you reply to my page?"
"Technically, I'm not here right now," she snapped back. Ohhhhhh, no she didn't!!! I have talked to her numerous times, and she keeps blowing me off, and NOW she's copping an attitude with ME??? That little fresh-outta-college snooty ass bitch! She is going DOWN. I am so sick of her making time in her day to flirt with one of the other managers but never making time to do her fucking job.
Then she told me that I need to realize that not everyone gets a weekend off every month. Some people just don't get one, sometimes.
I replied, "Yeah. I know. I'm one of them. But I need this weekend off."
I did not appreciate her attitude or her bullshit. Almost everyone else in the department gets their weekends off with no problem. But for me and a couple other people, we have to pull teeth. It makes no sense.
"Fine," she said, halfway rolling her eyes. "Just take it."
"Thank you," I replied. Heather left.
I was so pissed off at the way she had just acted, I almost walked out right then and there. If it weren't for a special sale going on today, I probably would have just quit on the spot. But there's some jewelry I want to buy...so I will work tonight.
Over my luxurious weekend off, I will think about whether or not I will return to Dildo's on Monday. I might. I might not. Maybe I will "forget" to come in. Or perhaps I will, but I will "technically not be there." AAAARRRGH.
I am really crossing my fingers that I will hear SOON about whether or not I get to teach this class. I don't know how much longer I can put up with Dildo's. Maybe I can hang in there for two more weeks...
Speaking of timelines, I talked to The Czarina the other day. Now, a lot of people have a hard time understanding why she drives me nuts, but if they knew the crazy things that she says to me, they would understand. This is basically how our phone conversation went:
Mom: So, how is CN?
VB: He's fine! Wonderful as usual.
Mom: That's good. He's such a nice guy. I do like him.
*Relief on my end of the line.*
[Little do I know, she's just setting me up. That was her idea of a warm up to what she really wanted to lecture me about.]
Mom: So, have you two talked about marriage yet?
Oh Jezus. Here we go....
VB: *trying desperately to think up an urgent reason to get off the phone.* Not really, Mom. No.
Mom: Well, you know, you might want to put him on a timeline. You don't want to waste any more time. I mean, if he's never going to pop the question...you might just want to break it off.
[Nevermind that doing so would make me totally miserable, but apparently, this is beside her point. And I love how all the time I've spent dating him has been a 'waste' of time.]
VB: Mom, we're fine. We have had a couple of conversations in that direction. He asked a lot of questions about my roommate's engagement. And we talked about kids once.
Mom: *hissing* Well, don't bring it up! You want it to be his idea! Let me tell you, you don't want a man who doesn't have to marry you. All that stuff should be his idea! It all needs to come from him! He needs to really really want to marry you.
VB: Ok, Mom. I get it. Yes, I agree. I don't want to browbeat him into it or anything. I'm not really an ultimatum kind of girl.
Mom: Ok, well stop bringing up wedding stuff. Don't even mention it around him.
VB: *rolling my eyes* Ok, Mom. We haven't even been dating a year yet. Everything is fine.
Mom: Ok, well, I love you, hon. I'll talk to you later.
VB: I love you, too, Mom. Bye.
Is anyone else wondering how it is fair to put CN on a "timeline" without informing him about this timeline? Doesn't seem quite fair, does it? It's like she's saying, "He needs to marry you soon. But don't talk about marriage." WTF? That doesn't make any sense! That's like yelling at someone for not taking out the trash, when they didn't even know the trash was full in the first place. Even though you knew the trash was full the whole time. It's like expecting someone to read your mind. And it's not fair.
And nevermind that he and I may not be ready for all of that yet! I love how she never asks me how I feel about this idea. Apparently, I don't need to think about it or decide anything for myself. It's all about how CN feels. A marriage conversation is totally one-sided, I guess. We know there would be no hold up on my end. I must be ready. I'm a girl. I want to be married yesterday. (Ok, I guess I can't really argue with the last statement...let's be honest, here.) But good grief! Like I need any pressure from my mother!!! We'll get there when we get there!
She's acting like women have to trick men into marrying them or something. And that's not what I'm all about. At all. If CN turned to me today and said, "I don't want to get married for another 8 years." I would be ok with it. Obviously, I wouldn't be super excited about it, because I would like to get married before I'm 40, in all honesty. But that's not something I would break up over. I would still want to be with him, even if he took his sweet ass time. I'm trying to enjoy the ride, not set an egg timer.
Jeezus! What is with her advice lately?? This is almost as bad as the time she told me I should go to medical school:
"Why, Mom? I don't want to be a doctor. I don't even want to be in the medical field. That's a helluva lot of debt. And besides, I have a weak stomach. Why on earth would I do that?" I replied.
"Duh!!! So you can meet and marry a doctor, Virginia!" she replied, frustrated. I swear, if she had been sitting closer to me, she would have thunked me in the head.
Do you see what I have to put up with?? My mother is crazy!
I knew she hadn't left work yet, so I paged her. No reply. I knew she was ignoring me. [insert more rage and frustration here.]
About a half hour later, I see her, trying to sneak away by taking the long way around the jewelry department. It was raining, and she even had the nerve to sort of hold her umbrella in front of her face. As if I'm not going to know it's her!!! ARGH.
"Heather!" I shouted, accusingly. She was so busted. She stopped, put down the umbrella, and glared at me.
"I need to talk to you about my schedule," I continued, unfazed. "I'm tired of this. I need a weekend off. And why didn't you reply to my page?"
"Technically, I'm not here right now," she snapped back. Ohhhhhh, no she didn't!!! I have talked to her numerous times, and she keeps blowing me off, and NOW she's copping an attitude with ME??? That little fresh-outta-college snooty ass bitch! She is going DOWN. I am so sick of her making time in her day to flirt with one of the other managers but never making time to do her fucking job.
Then she told me that I need to realize that not everyone gets a weekend off every month. Some people just don't get one, sometimes.
I replied, "Yeah. I know. I'm one of them. But I need this weekend off."
I did not appreciate her attitude or her bullshit. Almost everyone else in the department gets their weekends off with no problem. But for me and a couple other people, we have to pull teeth. It makes no sense.
"Fine," she said, halfway rolling her eyes. "Just take it."
"Thank you," I replied. Heather left.
I was so pissed off at the way she had just acted, I almost walked out right then and there. If it weren't for a special sale going on today, I probably would have just quit on the spot. But there's some jewelry I want to buy...so I will work tonight.
Over my luxurious weekend off, I will think about whether or not I will return to Dildo's on Monday. I might. I might not. Maybe I will "forget" to come in. Or perhaps I will, but I will "technically not be there." AAAARRRGH.
I am really crossing my fingers that I will hear SOON about whether or not I get to teach this class. I don't know how much longer I can put up with Dildo's. Maybe I can hang in there for two more weeks...
Speaking of timelines, I talked to The Czarina the other day. Now, a lot of people have a hard time understanding why she drives me nuts, but if they knew the crazy things that she says to me, they would understand. This is basically how our phone conversation went:
Mom: So, how is CN?
VB: He's fine! Wonderful as usual.
Mom: That's good. He's such a nice guy. I do like him.
*Relief on my end of the line.*
[Little do I know, she's just setting me up. That was her idea of a warm up to what she really wanted to lecture me about.]
Mom: So, have you two talked about marriage yet?
Oh Jezus. Here we go....
VB: *trying desperately to think up an urgent reason to get off the phone.* Not really, Mom. No.
Mom: Well, you know, you might want to put him on a timeline. You don't want to waste any more time. I mean, if he's never going to pop the question...you might just want to break it off.
[Nevermind that doing so would make me totally miserable, but apparently, this is beside her point. And I love how all the time I've spent dating him has been a 'waste' of time.]
VB: Mom, we're fine. We have had a couple of conversations in that direction. He asked a lot of questions about my roommate's engagement. And we talked about kids once.
Mom: *hissing* Well, don't bring it up! You want it to be his idea! Let me tell you, you don't want a man who doesn't have to marry you. All that stuff should be his idea! It all needs to come from him! He needs to really really want to marry you.
VB: Ok, Mom. I get it. Yes, I agree. I don't want to browbeat him into it or anything. I'm not really an ultimatum kind of girl.
Mom: Ok, well stop bringing up wedding stuff. Don't even mention it around him.
VB: *rolling my eyes* Ok, Mom. We haven't even been dating a year yet. Everything is fine.
Mom: Ok, well, I love you, hon. I'll talk to you later.
VB: I love you, too, Mom. Bye.
Is anyone else wondering how it is fair to put CN on a "timeline" without informing him about this timeline? Doesn't seem quite fair, does it? It's like she's saying, "He needs to marry you soon. But don't talk about marriage." WTF? That doesn't make any sense! That's like yelling at someone for not taking out the trash, when they didn't even know the trash was full in the first place. Even though you knew the trash was full the whole time. It's like expecting someone to read your mind. And it's not fair.
And nevermind that he and I may not be ready for all of that yet! I love how she never asks me how I feel about this idea. Apparently, I don't need to think about it or decide anything for myself. It's all about how CN feels. A marriage conversation is totally one-sided, I guess. We know there would be no hold up on my end. I must be ready. I'm a girl. I want to be married yesterday. (Ok, I guess I can't really argue with the last statement...let's be honest, here.) But good grief! Like I need any pressure from my mother!!! We'll get there when we get there!
She's acting like women have to trick men into marrying them or something. And that's not what I'm all about. At all. If CN turned to me today and said, "I don't want to get married for another 8 years." I would be ok with it. Obviously, I wouldn't be super excited about it, because I would like to get married before I'm 40, in all honesty. But that's not something I would break up over. I would still want to be with him, even if he took his sweet ass time. I'm trying to enjoy the ride, not set an egg timer.
Jeezus! What is with her advice lately?? This is almost as bad as the time she told me I should go to medical school:
"Why, Mom? I don't want to be a doctor. I don't even want to be in the medical field. That's a helluva lot of debt. And besides, I have a weak stomach. Why on earth would I do that?" I replied.
"Duh!!! So you can meet and marry a doctor, Virginia!" she replied, frustrated. I swear, if she had been sitting closer to me, she would have thunked me in the head.
Do you see what I have to put up with?? My mother is crazy!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
A Slap in the Face
I went to the dentist on Monday afternoon to discover that I have not one, not two, but THREE cavities. When I get them filled next week, I have to shell out $500. And yes, that IS after insurance, in case you're wondering. And although needles and cavity experiences aren't one of my main phobias, they aren't exactly a walk in the park for me, either. I sweat buckets and tense up anytime I sit in those chairs. It's what I would call a high-stress situation for me.
Because that's what I need: more stress and less money.
"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong mouth," I wanted to reply when the dentist broke the news to me. But unfortunately, my mouth was full of his gloved fingers and a small mirror. So I was unable to do more than whimper.
I was shocked to hear this news. According to The Czarina, I inherited her excellent teeth, rather than my father's disgusting and sad excuses for teeth. I have only had one teeny tiny cavity in my whole life. So what was this?? I mean, I can understand ONE. But THREE??? What did I do? Too much candy?? Not enough flossing?? I do have a bad habit of not always brushing my teeth before bedtime. I guess it caught up to me.
My coworker provided an interesting theory: I may have caught CN's mouth bacteria from kissing him. Since he has bad teeth, he may have spread his cavity bacteria into my mouth and made mine worse with every smooch. My boyfriend is giving me cavities. Great. What a jerk.
Well, at least I don't feel so terrible now about what happened the other night. He and I are kind of even now. This is what happened:
MJ got a new cell phone. For some reason, her new phone hasn't been communicating well with mine. When she sends me a photo, I receive it about 6 times. Over a 6 hour period. So when it's 2:30am and you are being awakened by your cell again, only to see that you are getting something you've already received four times, it's a little aggravating.
I know what you are thinking: Duh, VB. Turn your phone to silent.
To which I reply: My cell = my alarm clock, so I can't. Back to the story.
So the other night, I spent the night at CN's. I was totally exhausted. I had been getting that repeat photo from MJ, but figured it had stopped at three copies. I fell into what was a very pleasant and extremely deep slumber.
And that's where I stop remembering things. I was THAT sleepy. According to CN, this is what happened around 2:30am:
My phone beeped. (It was the same stupid photo from MJ again. And can I just state right here how much I hate Motorola? Because their phones will beep until the cows come home when you have a new message. You are not allowed to ignore it. You MUST deal with it. NOW. This is the stupidest design flaw I've ever seen. This Motorola phone will be my last.)
I woke up, and in my sleepy stupor, reach over to shut the damn phone up. The beeping also woke up CN, World's Lightest Sleeper. He starts cuddling and kissing on me. I reply:
"GET THE F**K OFF OF ME OR I WILL SLAP YOU IN THE FACE!!!!"
Taken aback, CN apologizes and moves away, telling me I am mean.
For some reason, I half-way comprehend what has just happened, and I go over to kiss him and apologize. "Kiss?" I say.
"No! You're mean!" CN replies, half-joking.
"Fine. Whatever," I reply.
Then, I proceeded to roll over and immediately go back to sleep.
I have absolutely no recollection of this entire event. But I can assure you, CN isn't letting me forget it. Anytime I touch him, I have to hear "Get the f**k off of me or I will slap you in the face!"
Which is fine with me. I can't afford a fourth cavity, anyway.
Because that's what I need: more stress and less money.
"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong mouth," I wanted to reply when the dentist broke the news to me. But unfortunately, my mouth was full of his gloved fingers and a small mirror. So I was unable to do more than whimper.
I was shocked to hear this news. According to The Czarina, I inherited her excellent teeth, rather than my father's disgusting and sad excuses for teeth. I have only had one teeny tiny cavity in my whole life. So what was this?? I mean, I can understand ONE. But THREE??? What did I do? Too much candy?? Not enough flossing?? I do have a bad habit of not always brushing my teeth before bedtime. I guess it caught up to me.
My coworker provided an interesting theory: I may have caught CN's mouth bacteria from kissing him. Since he has bad teeth, he may have spread his cavity bacteria into my mouth and made mine worse with every smooch. My boyfriend is giving me cavities. Great. What a jerk.
Well, at least I don't feel so terrible now about what happened the other night. He and I are kind of even now. This is what happened:
MJ got a new cell phone. For some reason, her new phone hasn't been communicating well with mine. When she sends me a photo, I receive it about 6 times. Over a 6 hour period. So when it's 2:30am and you are being awakened by your cell again, only to see that you are getting something you've already received four times, it's a little aggravating.
I know what you are thinking: Duh, VB. Turn your phone to silent.
To which I reply: My cell = my alarm clock, so I can't. Back to the story.
So the other night, I spent the night at CN's. I was totally exhausted. I had been getting that repeat photo from MJ, but figured it had stopped at three copies. I fell into what was a very pleasant and extremely deep slumber.
And that's where I stop remembering things. I was THAT sleepy. According to CN, this is what happened around 2:30am:
My phone beeped. (It was the same stupid photo from MJ again. And can I just state right here how much I hate Motorola? Because their phones will beep until the cows come home when you have a new message. You are not allowed to ignore it. You MUST deal with it. NOW. This is the stupidest design flaw I've ever seen. This Motorola phone will be my last.)
I woke up, and in my sleepy stupor, reach over to shut the damn phone up. The beeping also woke up CN, World's Lightest Sleeper. He starts cuddling and kissing on me. I reply:
"GET THE F**K OFF OF ME OR I WILL SLAP YOU IN THE FACE!!!!"
Taken aback, CN apologizes and moves away, telling me I am mean.
For some reason, I half-way comprehend what has just happened, and I go over to kiss him and apologize. "Kiss?" I say.
"No! You're mean!" CN replies, half-joking.
"Fine. Whatever," I reply.
Then, I proceeded to roll over and immediately go back to sleep.
I have absolutely no recollection of this entire event. But I can assure you, CN isn't letting me forget it. Anytime I touch him, I have to hear "Get the f**k off of me or I will slap you in the face!"
Which is fine with me. I can't afford a fourth cavity, anyway.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Blind as a Batshit Crazy
Y'all know I have problems. I have problems that could fill a book. But I don't think that I have shared with you my eye problems. So here goes.
In my family, you either get the good eyes (Dad's side) or the good teeth (Mom's side). Well, I am blind as a bat. If I am not wearing glasses or contacts, I will literally walk into walls. Yes, it has happened before. That's how I can say that. If glasses or contacts did not exist, I would be legally blind, and probably fluent in Braille. Unless it is approximately 3 inches from my face, I cannot see diddly squat.
To make matters even more complicated, I have astigmatism in my left eye. The way I understand it, this means that my cornea has a little ripple in it, when it's supposed to be just a smooth dome shape. It takes a little more effort to find a contact that fits my left eye, because it has to line up with the astigmatism just right, or else everything will be blurry. (And in case you're wondering, this would also make LASIK eye surgery more challenging, too.)
I also have vision that is progressively getting worse as I age. (This eliminates me from the LASIK option entirely.) So I have to go to the eye doctor whenever I run out of disposable contacts, because by then, they aren't working for me, anyway. Oh, so much fun. $$$$$$$$$$ *sigh*
The icing on the cake is that I detest the eye exams. Unless you have less-than-perfect vision, you will not know what I'm talking about, but basically the doctor shines lights into your eyes that are so bright, your eyes water profusely, and you are convinced that you will burn your retinas away. Just thinking about it is making my eyes water as I type this. It is so uncomfortable, you clench your teeth and squirm in the chair. Then, they stick things in your eyes, blow air into your eyes without letting you blink and dilate your pupils (which makes your eyeballs feel all numb and weird)....ugh. To be honest, I'd rather go to the dentist. Eye exams SUCK.
When I went to my old eye doctor a couple years ago, I decided to spring for updated lenses in my glasses, too. That way, I would have the option of wearing glasses or contacts. The contacts came out great, but the glasses didn't. I could see okay up close, but I could not read the road signs when I was driving. I took the glasses back, and it turned out that one of the lenses was flawed, so they replaced it. I tried the glasses again. They were not much better. I took the glasses back a second time. I passed the little eye test, and the doctor declared that my glasses were fine. But I still could not read the road signs. The eye chart you have to read to prove you can see 20/20 is easy -- it's maybe 7 feet away from you. But when you're driving, you need to see road signs sooner than 7 feet away! I didn't take the glasses back a third time, because I would look like I was a crazy person. So I have not been wearing my glasses for the past few years.
I was so frustrated, I never went back. I have "updated" lenses in my glasses that don't even work. And they cost $100. Whatever.
So this time, I picked a new eye doctor. When I went in yesterday, it all seemed to be going well. She recommended a different solution to clean my contacts with, and I like it a LOT better. She is concerned with how bloodshot my eyes are all the time. I told her I sit in front of a computer all day, so that's probably why they are like that. (None of my other eye doctors have ever been concerned with this, so she scored some points with me for trying to solve my red eye problem).
Then we got to the eye exam part, where the doctor figures out the strength you need in your contacts/glasses. This involves her putting different lenses in front of your eyes and asking you which lens works better for you. She was no different than any other eye doctor I've ever had: she rushed through it, expecting my eyes to adjust to different lenses in the blink of an eye. (Sorry, that was a bad pun!) Well, my eyes must be stupidly slow, because I had to keep asking her to show me the choices a second or even a third time. And the differences between the lenses were so minor, it was hard to tell which ones worked better. I did my best, and she put some new contacts in my eyes. She said this was my new prescription, and they seemed ok as I blinked and looked around.
I instantly noticed how comfortable they are -- much more comfortable than my old brand. And I could see just fine in her office, so I went ahead and told her everything was great.
"Ok, wear these a few days, see how you like them. If we don't hear from you, we are going to order your new contacts on the 12th so you can pick them up after your vacation. Sound good?" the doctor explained.
I nodded and thanked her. Then I paid for my exam and left.
On the way home, I kept "testing" my new contacts by seeing how clear the road signs were. How soon could I read them? How clear were they? Was it better than my old prescription? Or were the signs fuzzy? And my new contacts seemed ok. Not great, but adequate. I thought, "Hmm. This is funny. Usually I can tell there's a huge difference when I have a new, stronger prescription in my contacts. Everything is crystal clear. These are...about the same as my last prescription." But I didn't worry about it too much, because they were so comfortable and I figured my eyes needed to recuperate after my eye exam, full of crazy bright lights. I decided to see how they were today before I made up my mind.
I put my contacts in this morning -- they feel FANTASTIC. Between the different brand of contact solution and the new brand of contacts, my eyes feel great. They are still red, but they feel fine.
But I can't see shit. Anything 6 feet away from me is blurry. I was in a meeting this morning, and I couldn't read a single word on the presenter's screen at the front of the conference room. That is just not right. Not to mention unacceptable. I could see MUCH better with my old contacts -- the prescription that is 2 years old.
These new contacts aren't even as strong as my last prescription, when they are supposed to be stronger!! AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH.
I'm starting to think that maybe I have an eye disorder. Or that I am just plain crazy. How can they work fine in the doctor's office, but not when I'm driving??? That makes no sense. Especially when I could see ok yesterday, but today, it's abysmal. It is noticeably worse. Same contacts, same eyeballs, same road signs. But I can't see shit. I am losing my mind. I have now had the same problem with two different doctors! What the heck is wrong with me??
I thought maybe it was just one contact that was wrong, so I covered up one eye. Then I covered up the other eye. Nope. Both eyes are equally blurry. Both contacts are bad.
"Do you have the contacts in backwards? Maybe you put your right contact into your left eye," my coworkers have been suggesting.
This is impossible, I explained to them. Putting a regular contact into an eye with astigmatism is massively painful. I would know instantly if that were the case. I honestly don't know what the heck is wrong.
I went ahead and made a last-minute appointment for 2:30 this afternoon. I am worried that when I sit in her little chair, and read her little eye chart, I will pass the 20/20 vision test, in her professional opinion. But I KNOW I won't be able to see anything out side of those four walls!! I really want to get to the bottom of this. Not being able to see is such a pain, especially when you're shelling out so much money!
I am frustrated. I am blind. Hopefully, I'm not crazy, too. Wish me luck.
In my family, you either get the good eyes (Dad's side) or the good teeth (Mom's side). Well, I am blind as a bat. If I am not wearing glasses or contacts, I will literally walk into walls. Yes, it has happened before. That's how I can say that. If glasses or contacts did not exist, I would be legally blind, and probably fluent in Braille. Unless it is approximately 3 inches from my face, I cannot see diddly squat.
To make matters even more complicated, I have astigmatism in my left eye. The way I understand it, this means that my cornea has a little ripple in it, when it's supposed to be just a smooth dome shape. It takes a little more effort to find a contact that fits my left eye, because it has to line up with the astigmatism just right, or else everything will be blurry. (And in case you're wondering, this would also make LASIK eye surgery more challenging, too.)
I also have vision that is progressively getting worse as I age. (This eliminates me from the LASIK option entirely.) So I have to go to the eye doctor whenever I run out of disposable contacts, because by then, they aren't working for me, anyway. Oh, so much fun. $$$$$$$$$$ *sigh*
The icing on the cake is that I detest the eye exams. Unless you have less-than-perfect vision, you will not know what I'm talking about, but basically the doctor shines lights into your eyes that are so bright, your eyes water profusely, and you are convinced that you will burn your retinas away. Just thinking about it is making my eyes water as I type this. It is so uncomfortable, you clench your teeth and squirm in the chair. Then, they stick things in your eyes, blow air into your eyes without letting you blink and dilate your pupils (which makes your eyeballs feel all numb and weird)....ugh. To be honest, I'd rather go to the dentist. Eye exams SUCK.
When I went to my old eye doctor a couple years ago, I decided to spring for updated lenses in my glasses, too. That way, I would have the option of wearing glasses or contacts. The contacts came out great, but the glasses didn't. I could see okay up close, but I could not read the road signs when I was driving. I took the glasses back, and it turned out that one of the lenses was flawed, so they replaced it. I tried the glasses again. They were not much better. I took the glasses back a second time. I passed the little eye test, and the doctor declared that my glasses were fine. But I still could not read the road signs. The eye chart you have to read to prove you can see 20/20 is easy -- it's maybe 7 feet away from you. But when you're driving, you need to see road signs sooner than 7 feet away! I didn't take the glasses back a third time, because I would look like I was a crazy person. So I have not been wearing my glasses for the past few years.
I was so frustrated, I never went back. I have "updated" lenses in my glasses that don't even work. And they cost $100. Whatever.
So this time, I picked a new eye doctor. When I went in yesterday, it all seemed to be going well. She recommended a different solution to clean my contacts with, and I like it a LOT better. She is concerned with how bloodshot my eyes are all the time. I told her I sit in front of a computer all day, so that's probably why they are like that. (None of my other eye doctors have ever been concerned with this, so she scored some points with me for trying to solve my red eye problem).
Then we got to the eye exam part, where the doctor figures out the strength you need in your contacts/glasses. This involves her putting different lenses in front of your eyes and asking you which lens works better for you. She was no different than any other eye doctor I've ever had: she rushed through it, expecting my eyes to adjust to different lenses in the blink of an eye. (Sorry, that was a bad pun!) Well, my eyes must be stupidly slow, because I had to keep asking her to show me the choices a second or even a third time. And the differences between the lenses were so minor, it was hard to tell which ones worked better. I did my best, and she put some new contacts in my eyes. She said this was my new prescription, and they seemed ok as I blinked and looked around.
I instantly noticed how comfortable they are -- much more comfortable than my old brand. And I could see just fine in her office, so I went ahead and told her everything was great.
"Ok, wear these a few days, see how you like them. If we don't hear from you, we are going to order your new contacts on the 12th so you can pick them up after your vacation. Sound good?" the doctor explained.
I nodded and thanked her. Then I paid for my exam and left.
On the way home, I kept "testing" my new contacts by seeing how clear the road signs were. How soon could I read them? How clear were they? Was it better than my old prescription? Or were the signs fuzzy? And my new contacts seemed ok. Not great, but adequate. I thought, "Hmm. This is funny. Usually I can tell there's a huge difference when I have a new, stronger prescription in my contacts. Everything is crystal clear. These are...about the same as my last prescription." But I didn't worry about it too much, because they were so comfortable and I figured my eyes needed to recuperate after my eye exam, full of crazy bright lights. I decided to see how they were today before I made up my mind.
I put my contacts in this morning -- they feel FANTASTIC. Between the different brand of contact solution and the new brand of contacts, my eyes feel great. They are still red, but they feel fine.
But I can't see shit. Anything 6 feet away from me is blurry. I was in a meeting this morning, and I couldn't read a single word on the presenter's screen at the front of the conference room. That is just not right. Not to mention unacceptable. I could see MUCH better with my old contacts -- the prescription that is 2 years old.
These new contacts aren't even as strong as my last prescription, when they are supposed to be stronger!! AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH.
I'm starting to think that maybe I have an eye disorder. Or that I am just plain crazy. How can they work fine in the doctor's office, but not when I'm driving??? That makes no sense. Especially when I could see ok yesterday, but today, it's abysmal. It is noticeably worse. Same contacts, same eyeballs, same road signs. But I can't see shit. I am losing my mind. I have now had the same problem with two different doctors! What the heck is wrong with me??
I thought maybe it was just one contact that was wrong, so I covered up one eye. Then I covered up the other eye. Nope. Both eyes are equally blurry. Both contacts are bad.
"Do you have the contacts in backwards? Maybe you put your right contact into your left eye," my coworkers have been suggesting.
This is impossible, I explained to them. Putting a regular contact into an eye with astigmatism is massively painful. I would know instantly if that were the case. I honestly don't know what the heck is wrong.
I went ahead and made a last-minute appointment for 2:30 this afternoon. I am worried that when I sit in her little chair, and read her little eye chart, I will pass the 20/20 vision test, in her professional opinion. But I KNOW I won't be able to see anything out side of those four walls!! I really want to get to the bottom of this. Not being able to see is such a pain, especially when you're shelling out so much money!
I am frustrated. I am blind. Hopefully, I'm not crazy, too. Wish me luck.
Friday, January 25, 2008
PSA: Smurf is Driving
WARNING: My little sister, Smurf, turns *16* on Sunday. This means that, according to the Commonwealth of Virginia, she is legally eligible for a driver's license. If you live within a 500 mile radius of Farmville, VA, I highly encourage you to inform your local authorities, call your State Congressman and lock up your pets and small children. Whatever you do, you should definitely stay off any and all roads. This chick has no business whatsoever driving. According to my mother, she has committed the following moving violations during her practice runs:
1. Did not stop AT ALL for a stop sign -- she just followed the car in front of her!
2. Cannot seem to master lane mergings without almost causing 3-car-pile-ups.
3. Believes turn signals to be optional at all times.
4. Literally not looking at the road -- she has always been a space cadet!
5. Speeds terribly.
6. Uses mirrors instead of actually looking over her shoulder.
Ok, now before you panic, keep in mind that she won't actually be legally on the road, driving alone, until about April (you have to be 16 years and 4 months to drive in Virginia). So she's going to practice some more. A LOT more. Smurf has to learn how to drive safely, because right now, my poor mother is carting her all over the place: school, sports (Smurf plays 3 sports), friends' houses, football games, basketball games, parties, movies, etc. For most people, this isn't that big of a burden. But when you live in the boonies, like they do, it takes 45 minutes to get anywhere. So my mother is really ready for Smurf to drive herself around. She's even bought her a used car. A very very large used car. I think it's an old Chevy Suburban kind of like this one.
When I asked The Czarina why she bought such a large car for Smurf, when gas prices are so insane, she replied, "Because I know she's going to get in a wreck. And I feel better if the car is so big, it inflicts more damage than it receives."
"Oh. Ok. That makes sense," I replied. "So how is she going to pay for the gas?"
"She's going to get a JOB!!!" my mother replied gleefully, clapping her hands together.
I snickered, remembering my horrible grocery store job I had in high school. Ah, the days of minimum wage and polyester uniforms....
Anyway, The Czarina has tried to discuss with Smurf the responsibilities involved in operating a motor vehicle. She has lectured, pleaded, begged, yelled and stressed about it. She even went so far as disconnecting the CD player/radio in Smurf's car, in order to eliminate at least one distraction. Of course, being obnoxious older siblings, the rest of us tease her about this incessantly. We even joked about buying her a bunch of CDs for Christmas, which would be useless to her. Tee hee.
I have quizzed her on the Rules of the Road. My brothers have tried to take her driving. She has studied old driver's ed manuals. We share driving tips and advice with her constantly. When we are driving her somewhere, we periodically ask, "Ok, what should I do now?" or "What did that other car do wrong?" -- and her answers are always wrong. She fails miserably at anything even remotely related to driving. All we end up doing is shaking our heads at her.
To be honest, we are all kind of worried about her! Our family is full of good drivers. WLF had one accident when he was 16. That was the only accident he ever had. Fat Dog has never had a wreck. Fungus is a pretty good driver. I have only had 2 accidents, my last one being in 2001. The Czarina has never been at fault in any accidents, although she's the type of driver who backs into poles and trashcans. In short, we have no idea where she got this from. Although we are all notorious speeders in our family, none of us have ever been this clueless about driving.
She's going to be taking driver's ed at school pretty soon. I really hope that will help her out. Because right now, I won't even get into a car she is driving. I guess I was a pretty bad driver at first, too. I really hope her learning curve is better than mine.
Oh! In honor of her birthday, I do have some pics of her when she was little. Here goes:
Here is Baby Smurf. She's the only one in our family with dimples. That is WLF holding her. Yes, I realize he was old to be the father of a baby. What can I say? There were 7 of us. Someone had to be last. This was at Myrtle Beach.
Ok, that is Fungus with Smurf on his shoulders. This pic was taken in about 1992.
I remember Smurf doing this a lot in the car when she was little. She would make these hilarious faces! That is Fat Dog on the left. imitating her, and Fungus on the right. You can see my big ol' feet in the background. This was in our old station wagon, which was the car I learned to drive on. This was soon after we moved to Indiana.
Ok, how cute is this pic? That is my youngest brother, Gulgie, and Smurf.
This is a pic of my four full siblings. Remember, I have 2 half siblings, too. I am not in this pic, and I do not know who the guy is in the back ground. L--> R: Gulgie, Smurf, Fungus, Fat Dog. Oh, and the date is conveniently displayed in case you are curious.
Here she is with a friend of the family, when she was little older.
I have more family pics, but that's enough for today.
~~~~~~~
Oh crap. I just realized. Today is January 25th. Every year, I have a horrible, horrible day on or near this day. Examples:
1. I have been dumped.
2. My dad died.
3. I have been in 2 car accidents.
4. I found out this guy had lied to me and cheated on me.
5. I have been sick.
So looks like I will be staying in bed as much as possible this weekend!!! I hope I can end my Curse of the End of January.
Shit. I should have called in today. That was dumb of me. Last night, I had a bad dream that CN and I broke up. Ugh. That is bad timing.
Have a great weekend, everyone! I have to go look for some good luck charm, now, before it's too late! Cross your fingers for me!
1. Did not stop AT ALL for a stop sign -- she just followed the car in front of her!
2. Cannot seem to master lane mergings without almost causing 3-car-pile-ups.
3. Believes turn signals to be optional at all times.
4. Literally not looking at the road -- she has always been a space cadet!
5. Speeds terribly.
6. Uses mirrors instead of actually looking over her shoulder.
Ok, now before you panic, keep in mind that she won't actually be legally on the road, driving alone, until about April (you have to be 16 years and 4 months to drive in Virginia). So she's going to practice some more. A LOT more. Smurf has to learn how to drive safely, because right now, my poor mother is carting her all over the place: school, sports (Smurf plays 3 sports), friends' houses, football games, basketball games, parties, movies, etc. For most people, this isn't that big of a burden. But when you live in the boonies, like they do, it takes 45 minutes to get anywhere. So my mother is really ready for Smurf to drive herself around. She's even bought her a used car. A very very large used car. I think it's an old Chevy Suburban kind of like this one.
When I asked The Czarina why she bought such a large car for Smurf, when gas prices are so insane, she replied, "Because I know she's going to get in a wreck. And I feel better if the car is so big, it inflicts more damage than it receives."
"Oh. Ok. That makes sense," I replied. "So how is she going to pay for the gas?"
"She's going to get a JOB!!!" my mother replied gleefully, clapping her hands together.
I snickered, remembering my horrible grocery store job I had in high school. Ah, the days of minimum wage and polyester uniforms....
Anyway, The Czarina has tried to discuss with Smurf the responsibilities involved in operating a motor vehicle. She has lectured, pleaded, begged, yelled and stressed about it. She even went so far as disconnecting the CD player/radio in Smurf's car, in order to eliminate at least one distraction. Of course, being obnoxious older siblings, the rest of us tease her about this incessantly. We even joked about buying her a bunch of CDs for Christmas, which would be useless to her. Tee hee.
I have quizzed her on the Rules of the Road. My brothers have tried to take her driving. She has studied old driver's ed manuals. We share driving tips and advice with her constantly. When we are driving her somewhere, we periodically ask, "Ok, what should I do now?" or "What did that other car do wrong?" -- and her answers are always wrong. She fails miserably at anything even remotely related to driving. All we end up doing is shaking our heads at her.
To be honest, we are all kind of worried about her! Our family is full of good drivers. WLF had one accident when he was 16. That was the only accident he ever had. Fat Dog has never had a wreck. Fungus is a pretty good driver. I have only had 2 accidents, my last one being in 2001. The Czarina has never been at fault in any accidents, although she's the type of driver who backs into poles and trashcans. In short, we have no idea where she got this from. Although we are all notorious speeders in our family, none of us have ever been this clueless about driving.
She's going to be taking driver's ed at school pretty soon. I really hope that will help her out. Because right now, I won't even get into a car she is driving. I guess I was a pretty bad driver at first, too. I really hope her learning curve is better than mine.
Oh! In honor of her birthday, I do have some pics of her when she was little. Here goes:
Here is Baby Smurf. She's the only one in our family with dimples. That is WLF holding her. Yes, I realize he was old to be the father of a baby. What can I say? There were 7 of us. Someone had to be last. This was at Myrtle Beach.
Ok, that is Fungus with Smurf on his shoulders. This pic was taken in about 1992.
I remember Smurf doing this a lot in the car when she was little. She would make these hilarious faces! That is Fat Dog on the left. imitating her, and Fungus on the right. You can see my big ol' feet in the background. This was in our old station wagon, which was the car I learned to drive on. This was soon after we moved to Indiana.
Ok, how cute is this pic? That is my youngest brother, Gulgie, and Smurf.
This is a pic of my four full siblings. Remember, I have 2 half siblings, too. I am not in this pic, and I do not know who the guy is in the back ground. L--> R: Gulgie, Smurf, Fungus, Fat Dog. Oh, and the date is conveniently displayed in case you are curious.
Here she is with a friend of the family, when she was little older.
I have more family pics, but that's enough for today.
~~~~~~~
Oh crap. I just realized. Today is January 25th. Every year, I have a horrible, horrible day on or near this day. Examples:
1. I have been dumped.
2. My dad died.
3. I have been in 2 car accidents.
4. I found out this guy had lied to me and cheated on me.
5. I have been sick.
So looks like I will be staying in bed as much as possible this weekend!!! I hope I can end my Curse of the End of January.
Shit. I should have called in today. That was dumb of me. Last night, I had a bad dream that CN and I broke up. Ugh. That is bad timing.
Have a great weekend, everyone! I have to go look for some good luck charm, now, before it's too late! Cross your fingers for me!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Babies R (Not) Us
Like many young women, I want to have kids one day. I'm thinking at least 3, maybe as many as 5. (Hey, I come from a big family, so this is normal to me.) And although I am absolutely positive I want to be a mother before I die, and I have a couple of names picked out, that is about as far as I'd taken this thought.
Until this weekend.
Don't freak out -- I'm not having a baby! *knocks on wood to be sure*
But lately, I can't seem to escape the thought of babies, and it's starting to wig me out. Let's make a list, shall we? Yes, let's. Because VB's heart rate is rapidly accelerating, and lists make her feel more in control of her world. Here we go.
1. I had a dream two nights ago that I was talking with an old friend about what it's like to be pregnant. We poked at her belly and discussed her due date. I think that in the dream, I was trying to get pregnant. Whoa.
2. Last week, CN and I were sitting on the couch watching Biggest Loser. I mentioned how it would be so easy to lose weight if you had kids, because you'd feel like you'd have a really good reason -- something to motivate you to live into old age. He replied, "Yeah, but you'll have kids one day. You should start being healthier now." (He's right, as usual.) He was visibly surprised to hear my answer: "No. I don't know if I'm going to have kids. It may not be in the cards for me." And I shrugged, because I am not one to count my chickens (or children?) before they hatch. And then I changed the subject, because the conversation was getting a little to "real" for me. I'm not ready to talk about that with CN yet. Heck, I'm not ready to talk to anyone about that!
2. CN and I were invited to a baby shower this past weekend. So we had to go pick out a present at Babies R Us, which, if you've never been, is like Wal-Mart, only it's filled with pregnancy/baby/toddler stuff. And it's FULL of women who look like this:
Now, I don't know if any of you have ever been in a giant room full of women who look like their water is about to break, unless you are an OB/GYN, but it is terrifying!!! I wanted to run up to each soon-to-be mom and play traffic cop: "Everyone! Now just back up! I need you to keep at least 10 feet back! She's gonna blow any minute!!!" I'm not kidding -- some of those women HAD to be at almost ten months of pregnancy. My fear of accidentally bumping into them and causing their water to break left me temporarily paralyzed. I didn't move an inch.
I looked around some more. There were approximately 7.3 billion baby items to purchase for your baby and/or your pregnancy. Now, unlike some women, my Baby Experience Resume is pretty extensive -- tons of babysitting, the oldest of 5 kids, lover of all things small and cute, oozing with maternal instinct, and a Master's degree in diaper changing.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the Baby Bonanza that is Babies R Us.
There were these strap-things, which hold your big pregnant belly up. Like a giant seatbelt or something. I don't know. There were covers for your nipples. I don't know why nipples need covers, and I'm wondering if it's because they don't make bras big enough for pregnancy-sized boobs-- a terrifying thought. And I have never seen so many thermometer options in my life. Did you know that pacifiers come in sizes? Yeah. Neither did I.
Between the pregnant women, the bizarre baby items for sale, and the umpteen newborns in the building, my head began to spin. I looked over at CN. He was white as a sheet, and also seemingly cemented to the floor.
"Oh. My. God. There are pregnant women everywhere...." I trailed off, speechless with fear.
"Yeah. And babies," whispered CN.
"This is totally freaking me out. Let's get the hell outta here ASAP!" I said.
We printed off the registry, grabbed the closest thing in our price range (which happened to be a Breast Friend, a product I was actually familiar with) and practically ran to the register. On the way to the register, I explained to CN what a Breast Friend does, and he proceeded to make jokes about how he wants one so he can be my breast friend. Har. Har.
3. On the way to the baby shower, I realized that never in the History of Baby Showers has there only been one baby or one pregnant woman. There were going to be more. And I was right. CN and I walked into a nest of new mothers and fathers, all discussing their new babies and baby products and baby philosophies and organic baby food and....well, you get the picture. There were two babies in addition to the one being celebrated. There were baby-themed cakes, decorations and party favors. Everyone was coupled up, either engaged or already married. It felt like everyone was expected to either have a baby or want to have a baby before even walking through the front door. Like it was a requirement to attend.
It was so overwhelming, I completely forgot that I had a boyfriend. My inner Single Girl said, "Shit! I hate parties like this! I'm single and I can hear my biological clock ticking now more than ever! Why do they never invite more than one single girl to parties like this?? Don't they realize it's torture? Oh. Wait. I am here with someone...Right. Ok." And then I spent the rest of the party trying to see if there were any single girls there, so that I could introduce myself and comfort them. Old habits never die, I guess. Or perhaps I just don't see CN and I as a couple couple yet. Because we haven't been dating long enough to discuss the possibility of making a little VB or CN yet. Does that make sense? I dunno. It felt too soon for us to be in that room with all those.....baby people.
Consequently, I kept to myself and stuffed 3 chocolate-covered strawberries, 4 ounces of dip/chips, one brownie and 17 petit-fours down my gob.
PMS hormones + too many babies + weird baby items + freakishly swollen bellies + a party where I know no one = Time to eat.
Ugh. I am getting a headache just typing this.
Anyway, our gift was a hit, and many "Breast Friend" jokes ensued.
4. After the party, CN and I had hoped to return to the Land of the Childless by attending W's birthday get-together. No such luck. My friend Y was there, and she is about 6 months pregnant with her first child. And a couple was there with their 3 month-old little girl. She was adorable. And they let me hold her. And she was so little! And she had that powdery baby smell! And she stuck out her bottom lip when she cried! And we all cooed over her adorableness.
CN was watching me do all of this. I cooed to him about the cute baby. He said it was impossible to escape babies that day. I nodded and continued to coo.
"You don't want one, do you?" he asked, terrified.
"Oh my God, NO!" I shouted. CN had jolted me back to reality.
And that's when I realized that I really like the idea of having a baby and being a mother. Possibly even with CN. But the whole pregnancy and labor thing totally freaks me out, and I am nowhere close to being ready to have one any time soon!!!
I wish the stork story was true. Because that is the kind of pregnancy/labor I want! Just thinking about how scary labor must be and how pregnancy totally f**ks up your body makes me feel like I'm going to faint. Why can't a nice little bird just drop if off on your doorstep? This is much more logical to me. It also sounds cheaper, safer, faster and cleaner. Scientists should look into this and see if this is indeed a viable option.
I explained all of this to CN and told him that I can't wait to be a mom, because once the baby has arrived, I think I would like it, because I know what to do. It's the whole pregnancy/swollen belly/scary labor stuff that bothers me.
He totally disagreed, saying that the baby's arrival is when all of his fears would start!
I guess it's good to know that we are on the same page about all of this stuff. Kinda.
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