Little Family

Sometimes, the last thing you want in life is to spend time with someone who seems to have everything you want in life.

I spent five whole days with Averi and her little family - husband E and toddler Claire - and I thought it would break me. That seeing her in her tank tops and pedal pushers lounging in the backyard with peach daiquiri in hand and Claire running through the Elmo sprinkler on a Friday afternoon would leave me in tears.

I worried that watching her interact with the man who knew he loved her before he ever held her hand, the man who got up every morning and worked hard to make their ends meet, the man who told her that what he needed most was for her to be home taking care of him, their house, and their daughter would fill me with rage.

I was afraid that being around that much love and trust and respect would make my life feel empty. But I didn't feel that way at all. I felt hopeful, confident, and encouraged that I could have that too. And that's nice to think about.

The Beginning

Its day 1 on our journey to settle my grandmother's affairs. You'd never believe the amount of work that goes into settling another person's affairs.

There's life insurance, power of attorney, releasing the body, meeting with funeral directors, choosing between burial or cremation. And that's just the beginning.

We've taken phone calls from my great aunt accusing Mom of telling the doctors that they can only talk with her. There was the phone call from my aunt saying that my uncle (their brother) had already raided Grandma's apartment for the things that "he bought so he can take back" if he wants.

Now, we're finally packed. Mom and her hubby have hit the road. I'm still in the rental lot waiting on my car to be detailed. It smelled like marijuana when it was returned. I demanded that they correct that. The last thing I need is to have that smell emanating through the window during a routine traffic stop.

Nat, April, Rebecca and I will start our journey early tomorrow morning. I'm hoping to get most of the way there with everyone asleep so that I can focus on the road. I've never wished more fervently for something to be a dream.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

The Long Awaited Sister Day!!

All day Saturday, I puttered around my apartment straightening things here and there. Unpacking that dreaded 10% of moving boxes that inevitably stays packed until you're 36 months into your new residence and quite possibly ready to move again. But I did get two more unpacked and I finally got all of my Christmas decor up into the attic. Groomed the dog and washed my hair.

Basically, I did everything I could think of to bring down the anxiety. Saturday was the most important day of my month. It was Sister Day.

SIIIIIIISTER DAAAAAAYYYY!!!!

If you don't have a sister, then I'm sorry but you don't get it. And if you and your sister are just "meh" about each other, then I'm sorry to you too because you don't get it either. But if you and your sister rock hard core and have shared rooms, apartments, secrets, crushes (but never boyfriends), drunken celebrations, and public shame then you totally understand the importance of sister day.

Sister Day is the one day (or night) where we get to act like we're in high school and go to dinner, see a movie, drink some wine, have a spa day, and just be sisters. Not wives or girlfriends, not mothers or daughters; just sisters. And it had been six months since we'd had a sister day (our last attempt was squashed) so I was super excited. Actually, we were both super excited. Which is probably why neither one of us made any plans.

Once Nat got off work, she breezed over to my house and said, "What are we going to do tonight?" and I just stared at her blankly because it did not even cross my mind that we would need to have plans. We settled on going to one of the bars that's in our local mall. The place was packed! Especially for it to only be 8:30p. I mean, yeah, it's Saturday, but it's 8:30p! The young people shouldn't even be dressed yet and the old people shouldn't be out! But alas, they were out in droves. We checked in and the gorgeous hostess told us there was a 45-minute wait for a table but the high tops in the bar were first come, first serve. We put our names in just in case, she wished us luck and we marched forward in our fantastic 4" heels (mine multi-colored, round-toe glitter and hers camel, peep-toe ankle boots).

My eagle eye spotted a lonely high top and snapped it up without mercy. Nat couldn't believe our luck! God was smiling on Sister Day! Our server came through and brought us menus. Before our first drink order could arrive, a gorgeous silhouette caught my eye. I double-blinked and asked Nat, "Is that The Volunteer?" She spun around so quickly that I thought she would lose balance and go tumbling from her chair. The way her eyes darted around the room told me that I better be right about this one. She couldn't take the suspense any longer and kept asking, "Where? Where?!?". I pointed with words and then she saw it too. The broad shoulders. The strong jaw. The ruffled blonde hair.

There he stood. Ten feet away oblivious to the world watching some game on the bar's big screen. I was all "Let's go!" while she was like "We can't go". So I said, "I will leave you here!" and she said something that I nodded to but didn't verbally agree to so it's like she never said it at all.

Me: *tap, tap on shoulder*
The Volunteer: *spins around*
Me: The Volunteer?
TV: *face full of surprise* Oh my God! *chuckle* Hey!
Me: *beaming uncontrollably*
TV: Hold on... it's been a really long time... *snap, snap* J-Bird!
Me: Yes! Ohmigawd! I was looking and I was thinking it was you... *airy, flirty laugh* Well, Nat is here!
TV: Yeah? How is she?
Me: She's engaged!!!
TV: No way! I guess I need to come congratulate her!
See how gracious he is? *swoon* I heart this man in a way that words cannot express.
Me: Nat, look!
Nat: Ohmigawd! She said it was you!
TV: So, you're engaged?!?
Nat: *evil glare at me* Yeah? Well, the weddings not on but the engagement isn't off, so... *tinkly laugh*
TV: Ah. So I still have a chance then? *winning smile*
Me: *evil glare at Nat* *sends telepathic message "I will stab you"
Nat: *send telepathic message back "Bring it, Bitch!"

More witty banter and flirty conversation happens before he decides that he should stop being rude to his guy friends and make his way back over to the bar. Nat looks at me all evil-y,

Nat: I told you not to mention the engagement!
Me: What? When?
Nat: I said, 'Icks-nay on the engagement'. I even did this *make throat cutting sign*
Me: *Kanye shrug* I didn't hear you.
Nat: You nodded!
Me: Whatevs. 'The weddings not on but...' *mocks her Tinkerbell laugh*
Nat: Don't hate.
Me: Oh, I'm hatin'.

Nat and I laughed and regaled at how silly the two of us were acting. We ordered food that was only good by bar standards and drank $9.00 drinks that caused us to have minor heart palpitations when we got the check because Really!! the average cocktail in this region is $7.00. $7.50 on a Saturday. On the way out, we went to say goodbye to The Volunteer who noticed that I had a Blow Pop.

He was all, "What's going on with that Blow Pop in your mouth?" and I was like "It came in my Naughty School Girl drink *terribly seductive face and naughty lips*" and he's like "Hmmm... *evily grin and sexy eyes*" and I say "We could cut out the middle man" and Nat jumps in like "Give me a hug before we go!" and I want to stab her again. We find out he's not on Facebook I know right! because he's a new school fool It's a Snoop Dogg reference and we exchange numbers and part ways for probably another two years or at least until I buy a house in his neighborhood. I'm not yet above stalking him and his fine self.

We finished up at a small pub by my apartment that had a great jukebox selection and boasted few patrons on a Friday night which officially qualifies it as my new favorite place, especially after seeing The Volunteer who got me all hot and bothered. Nat and I sat and talked about all the other guys who have crossed out path and either made their marks as friends or lovers. Then we both accepted that from this point on, anyone we ended up with would be settling. In a good way. 8^)

Sister Day was an absolute success and was only made better on Sunday when we both woke up hungover the drinks didn't seem that strong going down but remembering everything that happened. If you follow us on Facebook then you know excatly how amped we were and how silly and giddy we can get over boys. But isn't that the best thing about having a sister. She's the one person you can be 100% yourself around 100% of the time.

Happy Sister Week, Everyone! Hope you get your Sister Day in soon. Next one: March 13th!

I Swear To God We Are Not Related

Check this company out. They have some awesome designs including these for t-shirts.

Mr. T has a problem with letting Nat have her own things. He likes to think that everything is "ours". Normally, I would say, "Bravo!", "Indeed!", "Right on!". But I can't because it's hard to see them share everything when everything belongs to Nat. The living room furniture is her half of what she and I purchased together in 2005. The bedroom furniture is what she collected on her journey through college and life. The kitchen utensils are all the things Mom and I set her up with when she packed up and went to art school. The car is her car that she will have paid off in April. Even if you don't do a detailed inspection of what has been categorized as "ours" it's easy to see that nothing of Mr. T's made it into the pile.

This has Nat on edge. Which put me on edge. A much sharper, pointier edge than I should have been on when my Sister Day got encroached on. Yes, encroached. Because Mr. T felt that Sister Day should be Sibling Day and called both of his sisters and invited them to our gathering. Which he neglected to mention and we only found out about because Little T (his youngest sister who's 17) blew up Nat's phone wanting to know where we were then, where we were going to hang out, and who was driving because we were going 5 deep. And then Middle T (the middle child and oldest daughter who's 19 and in college) went on about how excited she was to have Sibling Day because "we've never hung out with just the sibs" and this is gonna be "super great!" All I'm saying is that I haven't had a night out with just my sister since she met Mr. T because apparently he has no friends. Which we will address at a time when I'm not angry or distracted.

So we go out - the five of us - and hit up a downtown spot that's known for their whiskey. Middle T orders a beer but I give her the Mom face and let the server know that she's 19. Mr. T calls me a hater. I remind him that I volunteer at prisons I don't reside in them. Whatevs. That's when Little T decides to tell us all that she's pregnant... again. Because she already has a one-year-old. I. Lose. My. Damned Mind. I told her that this was unacceptable. To get pregnant once was a mistake but now she is being careless and disrespectful to herself, her son, her mother and the rest of her family. She obviously has learned NOTHING by being a single parent because if she had she would not have been so careless this time around. What's worst is that it's a completely different individual from her son's father and can't determine if she conceived by her current boyfriend or the guy she cheated on with him.

Mr. T tried to stop me but I told him that I blame him as well. As her older sibling it is his duty to hold her to a higher standard, to expect more from her, to ensure that she was motivated to continue her education. Instead we find him enabling her, fabricating her excuses, and shrugging it off like she didn't just take a dozen steps backward. I told Little T that just because she comes from a family that expects nothing from her and her life doesn't mean that she shouldn't expect more of herself. I implored her to get her GED or a part-time job. I challenged her to rise to the occasion and to use this time in her life to begin the path towards better opportunities for herself and her children.

I should have said it all in Italian because she still would have given me the same blank stare but I would have at least had a chance to practice. (Rosetta Stone is expensive. We want to make sure it's working.) I shoke my head in sadness and mumbled about how they are an entire family that doesn't believe in consequences. Mr. T thought I was being too hard on his sister and overstepped my boundaries by far. I told him that someone needed to say it and he only thinks I was too harsh because I'm nice to him. He was under the impression that I was nice to him because he's good to my sister. So I told him what I really think. That he's not good enough for my sister. That he has nothing to offer her and until he brought something to the table he would - in no way - be in my good graces. I told him that I think he's lazy, entitled, and flat-out ridiculous. When he met my sister had neither car nor job nor place to lay his head and I find that completely unacceptable. I told him more about him than he could ever dream of me knowing and that of the twenty or so people that I've asked about him NOT ONE has been willing to vouch for him. I told him that I'm letting him bide his time but the next time he brings Nat to tears he will be dealt with. I let him know that under no circumstance was I supportive of their union but I will always be supportive of Nat. And that as long as he makes her happy, he'll be allowed to stick around. I told him that he thinks Ashton's mom makes his life hard but he would find out what hard really is if he were to put Nat in the same position.

In short, I put my claws in him so deep that I think I still have remnants of his sack under my nails. I don't know if he's scared and I don't really care. But like I told him... it's in his best interest to believe everything I said because I'm not known for lying.

The Times They Are a-Changin'

Pic found here

Dear 2010,

Fuck you.

You were an absolute horrible time in my life and I'm glad that you're gone. The part of me that is optimistic and looks toward the future is so glad that we will never meet again. If I had a time-travelling knife, I would cut you right out of my life.

Confused? Let's discuss:

January - Plagued with constant illness

February - Paid money to find love only to be matched with complete ass hats with chihuahuas sticking out of their t-shirts or fantastic men with an inability to move forward. Priceless.

March - Damaged someone else's vehicle, was bailed out by my brother, and had a major row with my sister. And I didn't get the one I wanted.

April - Hit an all-time low in my emotional life

May - Got majorly offended and embarrassed my sister in a huge way

June - Gramma fell outrageously ill

July - I lost my baby

August - Gave this asshole my number

September - I had this day which was promptly followed by this dream

October - This post was distributed because people like to start drama. No, I'm still not sorry I wrote it.

November - I had a week-long battle with my mother and managed to fail at a meme

December - I realized that I'd lost a good friend and am having a war with a colleageue

You did nothing if not keep me humble. Everytime I tried to make a positive progression, you made sure to put me firmly back into my place. I am only so hateful because I had such high hopes for you. You and I were going to take on the world together. We had endless possibilities. Then you ruined it with your constant negativity.

Even the moments when everything was going as planned were draped in doubt and uncertainty.

I wouldn't take back any of your days because for every three blows you dealt, you were kind enough to offer me a day of solace.

With that, I look forward to 2011. It really doesn't have a choice but to be better. Because I am not afraid to punch a day in the face.

Are You There, Blog?

Holla!

In the last week I've been doing lots of crazy things and hanging with all the crazy people I know. And when you're hanging with real-live peeps your blog peeps suffer. Never fear! I'm sure I'll be back in full force soon... Maybe.. don't hold your breath.

But while I was gone, I want to assure you that nothing super exciting has happened at all. Not at all. I did not have dinner with a friend where he revealed he was in a relationship with a married woman. I, in no way, had an epic battle, heroic crusade, or marathon melee with my mother. I don't even know why I would mention it. No one asked for my advice on how to step on out into the dating world after having a serious convo with his baby mama in which they decided that they would "co-parent" their son despite the gaping distance. I did not blurt out that Ke$ha "has no fucking talent" and "sucked a lot of dicks to get here" in the middle of a bar.

Ashton, however, did show his ass in true form and opened every gift that Nat bought. Even the ones that weren't for him. Which, incidentally, is how she discovered that he can neither read nor recognize his name. At the age of 4. And a half. Going on 5. Where he'll start school. Next fall. I have to stop writing now because my ear is touching my shoulder and my voice can't go higher.

A delivery boy almost died on my icy steps because some bung hole stole my $2.99 bag of sidewalk salt. So I put half a jar of $4.39 sea salt down until I could get to the store. It obvs is not the same. Jenny, The Bloggess, blew me away with her generosity and I guess I'm not the only one. It's INTERNATIONAL NEWS, People! I just wish I had been able to be a part of it.

Striped Shirt Steve and I are... well... that's not your business now is it?

I gets my Nook tonight. I have a $25 B&N gift card and then a fistful of free money courtesy of some of my colleagues. Plus, I read the damned tutorial and discovered that Google has eBooks as well so all is not lost and I may not return the thing from whence it came after all. Aaaaand, my library is going to start free eBook "check out" on the 27th. So all in all, this holiday doesn't suck donkey balls but perhaps only monkey balls. Those are cleaner as they aren't so close to the ground.

I'm off to Christmas #2 of 3. I'm really excited for Saturday though! That's when me and the girlies are going to do our Christmas thing. Someone once said that "friends are the family you pick for yourself". They were right but should have added "...and enemies are dung nuggets that God accidentally gave life".

I Was A Beer-Goggled Bat But Even I Knew There Was Something

Last night, I really just needed to unwind. So I called up Nat and told her that I wanted to go out for drinks. She was game. Mr. T & Ashton were going to do boy stuff and we were going to relax. Except, Ashton's mom decided that our plans sucked and that the best course of action would be to stick some lit dynamite all up in 'em.

Nat texts me disgruntled, Mr. T whines about how he would hate to spend the night all by himself, and I'm gripping the steering wheel of Big Red and driving 50 on the freeway because it's dark outside, it's raining, and I forgot my glasses.

I arrived on their street going a steady 22 mph to find them both on the porch having a smoke. My poor doggie niece was dripping wet but she wasn't about to go inside because that would mean that something awesome would immediately happen afterwards and she didn't want to take that risk.

We laugh. We chat. They mock me.

Mr. T's coming along and OMG can he talk! And talk. And talk. And talk.

Every so often, we would send him to refresh our beers and he would talk to someone else, so we in turn would talk about him. Nat really does love him. And she's the cutest girl he's ever been with. Ever. His last ex looked like a tranny, post-op, but still waiting on the estrogen to kick in. Ashton's mom is pretty. She's gorgeous even. Especially for having a rambunctious four-year-old. But you can tell that she's a bitch. It's in her eyes.

Turns out that I'm exactly 8 months and 26 days older than Mr. T. I know this because he almost had an aneurysm doing the math.

After we had more beers than anyone should consume on a Tuesday, Nat and I went to "play" pool. I use the term play loosely because really we spent 45 minutes missing shots, scratching, and cheating.

That's when *Steve asked if we wanted to play doubles and he volunteered to be on my team. Nat and I conferred and since we were both done playing, the boys were given our blessing to play alone. Nat said something silly, I retorted with "That's what she said!", everybody in a 2 foot radius laughed.

Somebody slipped me two whole dollars and pointed me in the direction of the juke box. Do I need to tell you what was played? Of course I do! I broke out the Color Me Badd and made everyone in the bar sing along. You wouldn't believe how many people love this band... secretly.

Steve really is a nice guy. We chatted quite a bit and we have the same sense of humor. There aren't many people who know and love Mike Birbiglia. He gave me great tips on how to start and grow my above ground garden. I even got free advice on killing the God awful ivy that plagues my waking dreams.

He's environmentally conscious and will freely tell you the benefits of eating farm-raised seafood, as well as, the human effect on our country's bee population.** Steve almost got into a documentary that he'd seen but I yelled for him to STOP! before he could get all of the words out because Lord knows that I will slap the fool that gives Nat anymore documentaries to watch. We are all still trying to recover from the damage of Food, Inc.

I have no idea what he does for a living but I can tell you that he single-handedly started his company's recycling program and takes it upon himself to do the sorting for the lazies who don't give a damn about their footprint, he's two whole months younger than Mr. T, and hopes that he'll see me again.

I bet you ten bucks he's gay.***

*Not his real name. But I call him Steve because he was wearing a striped shirt. No, the stripes were red.

** I even promised to stop killing spiders because (apparently) they are not bugs and should be taken outside to a new home - like my impending garden - where they can do good.

*** Nat and Mr. T say I'm crazy and that he was into me but I was wearing my fat jeans and no make-up. Let's do math. fat jeans + (gym sneakers  * no make-up) + period bloating/ witty banter = gay dude. See?

So Ungrateful

I used to get depressed during the holiday season. There seems to be nothing for me to get excited about. Last year, I sat in my mother's house completely forgotten and this year, I spent the whole weekend stressed about everything. I know that I should find a way to be thankful. I know that I should spend more time focusing on the good or at least trying to make things good but I struggle with that in ways I can't make you understand.

My mother has never been the one to take control of anything. She does it on purpose. If she doesn't take control then she cannot be considered responsible for things falling apart. The problem with this is that she will not allow anyone else to take control either. She relishes in the role of "helper" which would be helpful if she didn't insist on doing everything her way.

I do take orders well. I tend to follow processes whichever way they are designed. My mother struggles with these things because she doesn't like being told what to do. She also wrestles with the idea of not always knowing what is right or best for someone else's life. This weekend I endured constant badgering about my relationship with the Scorpio. It resulted in me yelling at the top of my lungs that she should let it go because it's. never. gonna happen. Just never.

She told me that I needed to take notes on Nat's current relationship stressors because I would find myself saying these same things when I finally found someone. I, not so kindly, informed her that I would never take notes from Nat and that if Nat had any sense she wouldn't take any queues from mom. I also reminded her that I have lived with three different men in my life and managed to keep all of my stressors from her because she is always less than helpful.

Like the time this past summer when I was dogged by a particular group of friends. While I sat there at her kitchen table crumpled over in tears, she gave me one pat on my left shoulder. Her advice? "Don't cry. There's no point in crying. Now you can stop hanging out with them and find a group of people that are worth something. I never liked them anyway." This came complete with that half-hearted, half-assed, all-condescending pat on the back. I remember it feeling so cold that I wished she hadn't bothered to touch me at all.

She went on about my drinking, my cooking, my baking, my control issues, my dog. She demeaned my career path and how I went about finishing my degree. She called me ungrateful for walking away from a scholarship that "[someone who is not my mother] fought very hard to get for [me]. For what? A boy? Heh". She relentlessly gave her opinion on topics of which she has no knowledge and made me wonder in earnest why I bother to come around.

This was all put on hold briefly when I received a phone call from my dad. He was working all day. Our talk was brief and she wasted no time telling me how sad she was for me because it seemed like he really wanted a relationship with me before and now it had been reduced to almost nothing.

I hate this time of year. With Thanksgiving, my birthday, and Christmas coming in such rapid succession, I feel exposed to more ridicule and back handedness than any one person should have to endure in a 30 day window. Am I wrong in thinking that it's ok that I don't get the one thing I requested for my birthday? Everyone knows what I need but when you ask what I want, I'll tell you. What I don't expect to hear is, "Well, if I get you that it'll be for your birthday and Christmas". I don't expect to hear that because no one else in the house has to hear that. No one. Ever. I've watched her give away netbooks. In September. Just because.

I don't know what I'm trying to say. Scratch that. I do know what I'm trying to say. What I'm saying is that I hate my family. There have been many days when I've prayed that I could start over. I spent a good chuck of my life trying to get married so that I could legitimately have a family of my own. I know that I can't make them better people and I can't yet walk away. But when the time comes that my promise has been fulfilled, I'm gone. I did it before and my soul was never more at peace. I hate the feeling of being bound to them. More than you know.

Iiiii Wanna Sexx You Up!

Ed Note: Please do not pretend like you don't know this song or this "band". I never realized how lame I was back then until I looked at this picture and was all, "Ha! These guys are a bunch of douches! LOL". I feel like this guy. Wishing I hadn't just spent my morning watching the ridiculousness that is Color Me Badd videos.

This morning whilst in the shower, I took a look at my gams and was all, "Holy shit I need to shave!". But I didn't. Because I am super awesome. And I want to find a cure against cancer. So, I decided that the best way to do that was to be a part of Movember. Secretly. I'm not like this guy, putting my biz out on the innet (yes, I know and we will get to that later) for the whole world to see and get all judgy about.

If you think that I'm all pissy about my legs being hairy then you don't know me well. I'm upset because my leg hair is patchy. Like high school freshman patchy. There are openly bald spots on my legs. And a wayward follicle that seems to represent a cow lick.

All I could think about was how glad I was that I decided to forgo shaving my legs and not my pits. I'd never get laid if my pits looked like this! But then I remembered that I'm not exactly getting laid anyway. Which only made me more upset. You know what they say. Sex is like air...

So now I'm fantasizing about that time I was hitting the streets every weekend and should have been getting paid for my valiant efforts. Which made me think about my sneaky days when I still lived at home. Which made me think about the time I witnessed my mom having sex. *vuuuuurrrrrpppp*

It's not my fault. It was my boyfriend's fault. I was so young and impressionable. He was older and on the football team. And he was all freaky and wanted to do it in my parent's bedroom. I protested but then he looked at me all melty-eyed and I forgot my own name.

But then we heard the front door slam. And there was so much banging and thrashing about. My parents were home! And we were in their room. So he jumped into the closet and I went about trying to straighten up. He leaned out and grabbed me right as they burst through the door. Undressing. Kissing.

I wanted to scream but my boyfriend put his hand over my mouth and whisper-yelled, "Shut up!". There was much silent crying. The boyfriend was fascinated by mom's agility. I was trying to dig out my eardrums with her stilettos. We both just sat in the closet and waited.

It seemed like it was three years later when they finally let up. And I thank God every day that my step-dad is a dirty whore who doesn't shower and change after sex. But I can never seem to forget that day, not even with intense therapy. Couple that with the time after her divorce when Nat and I walked in on her humping a Mexican and you can see why I take prescription meds.

All that to say, my Mom's a freak. And I was preoccupied with that thought when I went out to pre-heat my car this morning. I was fully clothed sans overcoat but the guy standing by my dumpster had no shirt on and looked like the kind of person that would not have his wireless connection password protected therefore allowing me to pilfer his "innet". He had back boobs, jelly rolls, and... a hump! A bonafide, oh-my-gosh, that-can't-be, am-i-sure, it-so-is-a hump. Right over his tail bone.

Horniness - 0. Trauma - 2.

Oh! My! Gaaawwwwwddddd!!! LOOK AT THIS!

Weddings Are Joyous and Not Cheap

Nat is getting married. To a man that was absolutely made for her. He is strong, caring, and needs to be needed. She couldn't have found someone better to be matched with... unless this "other guy" ended up being less *pause* *pause* *blink, blink* thrifty.

Awww hell! Big T is just cheap! He's so cheap! He's the kind that will go to the bar with his friends for a beer and then go to the food bank for a loaf of bread. If I have to hear him go on about how broke they are, I might evaluate their income to debt ratio myself just to ease my own mind. This is a man that doesn't drive a car at all.

Which is putting a lot of restraints on Nat's planning. Instead of having it at Mom's like she wanted, they are having to rent a venue downtown because its close to where they and all of his non-car-driving friends live. Venues cost money. She wants to use her iPod for the reception but he has a "friend" in a band. Nat said that having the band for an hour or two and then using the iPod would work for her (she hates song renditions) but now he says that he has a "buddy" who's a DJ and will "do it for cheap". Now, I don't know about you but I did the math and have determined that his friend's band and his DJ buddy will cost more than the iPod that they already own seeing as how it doesn't require a meal or a paycheck.

I know that it's normal for guys to not want to be too involved in the planning process but Big T seems to be dragging Nat to the brink. Last night when she called, I picked up the phone to, "THIS SON OF A BITCH!". It seems that the only thing that Big T really wants to know is "when [her] next day off is so [they] can just be married already". If you're married and you planned your own wedding, you know that this statement is not OK.

After they had the heartfelt discussion about how this was not going to be a shot gun wedding and she is not going to the courthouse so he should shut up about the wedding planning if he wasn't going to be supportive, he offered to have his mom cater. Nat must have been super angry because her reply (at least in her retelling) was, "Hell no! Four mason jars of "spag 09" is more than enough catering from her!" I can't tell you how Big T felt about that because I wasn't there. But I can tell you I laughed for the longest time.

I'm hoping that things work out. Nat has worked hard at picking a theme and colors, now we just need to figure out how to make it all work together. 214 days is enough time to get flowers, food, and invitations, right?

So Glad To Be Back

I used to enjoy Sales Meetings but now they are just something else on the long list of things that I have  to do. I learned a lot. I wrote a lot. I avoided talking to the vendors a lot. And now I have a lot of stuff to do to catch up.

Why does my whole life feel like a waste of time right now?

In other, more exciting new. I got to spend all day Sunday with my nephew. Oh! By the way, Nat is getting married! I wrote an entire Chuck Norris joke post and then forgot to schedule it so you have that to look forward to. We went apple picking last weekend and are going again this weekend. My oven is 200 degrees hotter than advertised. My freezer is leaking into my refrigerator. And the dog and I are both gaining weight.

I am in the midst of another major financial setback and so my car will go without repair again. I don't hate money. I hate the thousands of dollars that I have wasted over the course of my life. This setback is just more waste.

More to the positive... I cut both boys loose. It was just too much stress. I won two sales awards when I wasn't expecting any and I don't have to be a bridesmaid. Look at this face! He's such a ham, but I guess that happens when your father is a photographer and you're the only grandchild.

Ashton, my nephew



That's it. That's all my randomness for now. As soon as I dig myself out of my extensive To-Do Lists, I will be back here posting regularly. Until then, I leave you with this quote from my boss:
" Your scheduled start time for Work is 8am. Clocking in before this time is not allowed unless approved by Your Manager... You need to clock in no earlier than 5 minutes before your scheduled start time."

Yay for Tuesdays!

Two Weekends, One Recap

(OMG I've got to get back to posting regularly!)

Going Backwards in Order of Occurrence:

I'm going on vacation!!! To Guatemala! Mom and I made the executive decision last night that our family needs. to. get. away. I'm super excited. We figured that it's going to cost approximately $2000 per person. Which is not a lot of money when you take into account that it includes airfare, transport to and from Guatemala City, and the entire 5-bedroom, 5 bath house with solar-heated pool, sauna, hammock deck, maid, house man, personal chef and on-call masseuse. I'm not even going to give you the info for the owner until I take my own vacation because if the week I want gets snapped up I will be a very grumpy blogger. But we've set our sights on January 2012. It's during the dry season and it's off peak. So while $2000 is an shit ton of cash to come up with, we do have 15 months to make it happen. Plans were put into place last night.

We went apple picking this past Saturday. It was more fun than I can explain. First, April wrapped herself tighter than a hot dog because she was afraid that insects might crawl into her hoodie. We laughed raucously at her silliness. She seemed to forget all about that when the first rotten apple hit her though. I very much did it on purpose. But I might have thought twice about it if I'd known it would start a war that involved running through 3 rows of someone else's orchard. 3 bushels of apples later, we were heading home to peel, slice, and spice them. I've got 3 ziploc bags prepped and ready to fill the perfect pie crusts. Apple sauce and muffins will come later this week.

Last Sunday, Mom and I did some serious shopping. I bought a carpet remnant to put in my kitchen. That's right. My kitchen. It has occurred to me that I may not want to do this because of spills and trapped germs but I like to walk around barefoot and there's nothing worst than a cold, hard, kitchen floor to turn me off of cooking, baking and general cleaning. So, I rolled out the 10' x 8' remnant and trimmed it around the appliances and baseboards. It's a little crooked but I don't care. My toesies feel so snug wrapped in the long fibers. And my pup loves hanging out with me while I'm in there being a domestic diva. I also made a banana chocolate chip bread that I ended up bringing to work. I didn't want it but I had bananas to use. Thankfully the oven didn't burn it (although it was very brown) and the people at work seemed to love it!

We also went to Home Goods to check out mirrors and art. Mom found the perfect piece to fill her hall way and I questioned the quality of their furniture. Some stuff was pricey for how flimsy it seemed. But that could just be the new frugal me making sure I spend my precious pennies wisely. After all of that we still found time to catch a movie. We saw You Again with Kristen Bell and Jamie Lee Curtis. The film was forgettable and I remain convinced that Kristen Bell just cannot carry a film.

Saturday was the best day by far. April seems to be getting older more quickly every day. All she really wanted to do was hang at the mall with her friends. But we dragged her to The New Albany Classic. It was so much fun! And this year's talent was local band New Hollow and American Idol celeb David Archuleta(cue high school girls screaming)! Do me a solid, OK? If you have a teenage girl in your life, tell her about New Hollow. These guys are high schoolers living the dream. Their talent is real, I promise! Also, look for me in their video because they totally taped it at the classic and I'm jumping up and down per my instructions. I'm in the back, with all the other parents and guardians and the 5 50-year-old women who came 3 hours early to see David Archuleta and then were ushered to the back so that the children could have a better view. Yup. There were 5 of them. Cougars. Snapping photos and singing his songs. The new songs. On the CD that doesn't come out for another month. It's just sad. That boy is young enough to call them Grandma.

When Rebecca had reached her fill of the concert and April was done vying amongst her friends for David's attention, we took a stroll around. It was magnificent and so well put together. Becca and I hit up dozens of rides, the petting zoo, and the inflatable kids' park while April and Mom went and scounted out all the different food stands. When we finally met up, they had ice cream, kettle corn, hot dogs, chips, fries, cookies, and weren't trying to share! April ended up having a blast by the time it was all over because it seems that at least 4 of her friends were "forced" to spend a family day at The Classic as well. Funny how that worked out...

All in all, I've been making some great memories with the fam and it feels good. It's that nuclear awesomeness that I'm loving the feeling of and hoping that we continue to grow in to. So, that's all for now!

P.S. - I made a big girl decision and decided against buying some shoes that I totally have the money for because I received a check for a couple of hundred bucks in the mail. I've decided to put it in the bank for other, more promising rewards (like Guatemala!) but God does it hurt to be so responsible!



Guatemala photo found here.

The Enemy of My Enemy Is... My Mother?

Lately, my mom has been suuuuuuper nice to me. And not just, "Oh! You look lovely today" nice but "Here, I'll buy it" nice. Yesterday, we went to the local discount store and I decided that I was going to do the grown-up thing and buy area rugs for my new place. I found some that are simple and modern with just an organized splash of color. For the 3 rugs they wanted $80. That just was not in the budget. I put the 2 small ones down and prayed that no one would buy them in the next two week, when mom took the big $50 rug from me and offered to buy it if I would buy the other two. I'm getting misty just thinking about it.

Just 24 hours previous, she gave me 1/3 of this.

                                        I won't need to shop for a month.



This is something that I am very unaccustomed (and seemingly uncomfortable with). I've been an after thought for Nat's whole life. Because she's such a drama queen, everyone always wondered how she is, what she's doing and what we'll have to fix now. Her life choices right now are evidence of what I've been saying for 3 years: she is selfish, entitled, and lazy.

When the crap hit the fan 10 months ago, everyone was on her side. I didn't understand her and what she was going through. I was judging her unfairly. Why couldn't I see that she's not as strong as I am and would need some help along the way.

And then "this" happened. "This" is when she quit her job without having another one, didn't look for a new apartment before her lease ran out, didn't make plans to take her dog from my care, refused to take the Civil Service Exam, rejected the idea of living within or below her means, and let it slip that she squandered the money that mom gave her to pay off her car... in the last 4 weeks. Did I mention that she brought her new boyfriend into Mom's house twice before mom had ever laid eyes on him? Or that she claims to be in love and that he's the one, yet they've been together for a month? Should I tell you that she spends every free moment with him and none of them seeking gainful employment or a roof over her head? There's also the fact that she's leaving one minimum wage job to take another because of the perceived "upward mobility" when she told Mom that she'd be working them both. What is a Senior Key Holder anyway?

Romans 12:19 never felt so good.

I don't mean this is a hateful way. I love my sister and I love my family. I am exploding with love for them all but I have been exasperated with the foolishness that they allowed to persist. Quite frankly, it's about time that Nat was forced to sustain herself. This past July marked 4 years since she walked out on the job I got for her here where I work. It'll be 3 years ago this Christmas that she came home for the holidays and never left. Mom has finally finished paying the settlement from her eviction. October 23rd will mark one year ago that I gave her the ultimatum to get her finances in order or get out; she chose to leave.

I sat down with my Mom two weeks ago Wednesday. We were having dinner at this new Mexican place by her. We realized that there are things that we want and need to do for ourselves. I refuse to live paycheck to paycheck anymore. I will have substantial savings. I will start preparing financially for my future and the future of my family now. Mom is almost 50. April and Rebecca still have to go to college. There are another 12 years left on her mortgage. There's no margin of error for our plans... and no Natalie in our budgets.

What I'm Reading

I guess it's time to share with you my plans for children. Why not, right? It's currently on my facebook page and most of my friends know (and support me fully!).

For those of you who don't know, I want nothing more than to be a mother and I've been doing my research…

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5

Craziness

So, I got toooooonnnnnsssss of sleep last night. It's quite ridiculous actually. But my body definitely needed it so I'm really not complaining.

What I am saying is that with lots of sleep comes lots of dreams. And it seems fitting that I would dream about being an abused wife when the last thing I heard was "Love the Way You Lie" by Eminem featuring Rihanna and the last thing I watched was Enough. So, yeah, there's that.

I also just realized that I had the office hours of my potential renters messed up. They are open until 7pm on Monday and Wednesday. I could still make it there today, but they probably will view me the way I view people who enter a restaurant with the words "Are you open?". I mean, seriously, have some empathy for the working man.

So, I will go tomorrow. I'm still torn up inside about it. It's the ultimate signal to Nat, ya know? A one bedroom apartment clearly states that I don't intend to have anyone living with me at anytime. Therefore, she is not welcome to "stay for Christmas". I know that I'm allowed to be selfish. I know that it's time for me to take care of myself first for a change. And I believe that I should get accustomed to this level of selfishness because when I make the other changes in my life I will have to put me and mine first. That doesn't make it hurt any less though. Especially, when I can see her longing for me to offer her a chance at redemption. A brief escape from the real world. I could but I don't want to so I'm not going to.

I know I shouldn't judge her; that I have no right to, but it is happening. I listen to her talk about where she will and will not live. About how places are too small. My assumption is that she wants more than she can afford, more than she deserves, and much more than she needs. I tried living under her expectations before and I won't do it again. My new goal is to live below my means not at them. I don't want to be able to pay my bills every month and then have some left over for fun. I want real, substantial amounts of savings that will allow me to buy a house, repair my car, have a baby, plan a vacation, anything!

No one knows the pain I feel everyday that I am away from my grandmother. I wish I could hop on a plane, jump in the car, or even hitch hike to go see her. But the time away from my job is not something that I can afford. She's doing much better now but I couldn't be by her side when she was dying and that hurts more than anything else that I've ever felt.

I won't live that way anymore. And as much as I love Nat, she's too undependable. If I were to live with her again, the entire burden would be on me to make sure that everything was right and then I would (hopefully) collect her check for her share of the expenses. I'm above that now, on higher ground, on a different plane and she's not acting like someone who's prepared to go with me.

No More Jive Turkey

My grandmother raised me. She taught me to walk, to talk, to potty, to cook, to eat, to pray and to love. I remember racing across the room to jump in her chair and declare myself the winner (she let me win every time). I remember every silly superstition (don't split poles with people you love!). I remember every family tradition (always take a broom, a dollar, and a loaf of bread to your new house). I remember every secret recipe (rice pudding, anyone?).

I remember her holding my hand and walking me to school. I remember her helping me with my homework, mostly by reading the instructions out loud. I remember every after school treat. I remember her teaching me about love, life, and morals by way of "The Young and The Restless", "The Bold and The Beautiful", and "Another World".

I remember the late night conversations about boys. I remember the hand-written letters and personally selected cards. I remember every hug and every encouraging word. I remember how often she told me that I made her proud.

I remember when she got breast cancer. I remember when she chose to have a double mastectomy. I remember caring for her that whole summer. I remember the way she cried when she tried to thank me aloud. I remember the hug and kiss were enough.

I remember how hard she worked to care for her father at the end. I remember how frail he looked, how weak he was, and how hard she cried when he finally died. I remember walking with her to his grave every year to take him flowers.

I remember the day they took her driver's license. I remember the day I noticed her hair was all gray. I remember the first time I saw her fall. I remember having to convince her to leave her home so she could be somewhere safe.

My Gramma is dying and the thought that there won't be anything else to remember is too much to bear.

Can't You See I'm On My Knees for Mac 'n' Cheese?

I like to cook and that's a good thing because I just so happen to be damned good at it. Actually, I'm mediocre at best but quality cookware from The Pampered Chef and fancy pants ingredients like Gruyere make my food damned good.

My food is so good that at some point in your life, should you be blessed enough to partake, you will be acting all inappropriate at the dinner table what with the moaning and licking of your plate. Don't worry. It's cool. I'm so used to it by now that I just figure that I can live and let live. Besides, spontaneous orgasm has the be THE greatest compliment e.v.e.r.

Every so often, I become obsessed with certain food categories, like casseroles, stews, and currently, fritattas. When I was in my casserole phase, nothing was sacred. If I could put it in a dish with something else and wow you then that's exactly what I did. I took regular dishes and turned them into culinary masterpieces, complete with an inter mixture of flavors that danced in tandem along your pallet. You like that sentence? That's $30k worth of education right there.

One day, when it was really cold outside and hot chocolate just wasn't enough to make it better, Nat said, "Mac 'n' cheese would be so good right now". Obviously, it was a challenge. So, I break open Mom's cabinets to pull out the basics then rolled to the store to get the good stuff. You know the stuff: aged Parmesan, Gruyere, saffron; the foods of the gods. I blended these into a sauce worthy of unaccompanied ingestion. And then covered it with a buttery crouton topping and let it bake its way to happiness. It was ready to eat just in time to sit in front of the fire. Mmmmmm...

You see? It's good right? I told this story to Big Poppa and he said, "My mac 'n' cheese is better". I scoff at him because this fool must.not.know. How can his possibly be better when he only uses standard cheddar cheese? Of course, his defiance brings on an adjective war. I know I'm gonna win when I use "orgasmic". But alas, he claims his mac 'n' cheese is like hitting the "G-spot" and showed me exactly what he meant.

Imagine if you will, that you're sitting next to a close friend of over three years. And while he's talking to you, he takes his left hand, thrusts it into the air, extends his index and middle fingers together, bends them ever so slightly using their natural curvature and then commences to wiggle them. All to illustrate his point. Kinda like this:

I felt dirty. I felt mentally violated. I felt wet from having dribbled water down my front. It was hilariously menacing. And the best part was that he was in a G-spot trance. I was laughing too hard to get words out and finally had to force his hand back to his side.

Big Poppa,

Of all the things you and I have done together and of all the times we've shared, this will always be my favorite. Thanks for the memories.

P.S. ~ there's no way in hell I'm ever gonna let you live this shit down so don't even ask.

Not Another Theme Day

I see that Random Thoughts Tuesday is all the rage. I am not a follower and I don't think I can handle another theme day; one is exhausting so I will post for you "What's on J-Bird's Mind: A Frightening Look Into Her Inner Sanctum". You're welcome.

Why are boys/men so stupid? Here I am, freaking out because I'm over 25 and this is the age that I promised myself that I would settle the eff down and focus on having a family and they have the audacity to question my ability to commit or to say crazy shit like "It's not a question of if I want to, but rather, should I". I almost hit his face with my fist.

Family secrets hurt. I have one that I kept for almost 11 years. I told Nat on Sunday and you know what? It didn't make me feel any better. It's been so long that I've held this secret that that part of me is dead now so it's almost like it didn't make a difference. At least not to me. To her it meant everything.

CBS111 can go to hell for the song she just put in my head.

Lying and cheating are unacceptable. Even if you're my father. So when you say that you're with your girlfriend and you're not leaving her, then you say you went on two dates but its' not cheating I become confused. I don't care if she's doing two more tours before she comes home. Cheating is cheating. So don't give me this crap about how the two of you broke up before she left because I don't believe that either. Liar face.

My mom is on Facebook and even though she could write the app that the entire system runs on she can't figure out how to accept your friendship.

Grammy calls Facebook "Faceplace" as in, "J-Bird! Did you know that you're on Faceplace?".

I've started to use clinical strength deodorant. I'm only posting this so that the rest of you chronic sweaters will realize that there is no shame in accepting help. My pits have been so dry that at first, I thought I had a hormone problem. It's nice to feel normal for a change.

I made the Scorpio a cake and sent it home with him. Now, I want my plate back.

Someone called me today and they were having sushi for lunch. I actually cried because 1. I don't trust sushi in this state. Where could they be getting the seafood from as we don't have any bodies of water. 2. I'm at least 20 minutes from a good sushi bar. 3. The thought of Kroger sushi makes me mentally throw up.

Jealousy is not a good color on me.

I had a dream about what my baby would look like. And I called her Frankie. I miss her even though she's not here yet.

I'm back in the candle business because people want to buy from me and I believe that you should give the people what they want.

I almost had sex on Friday. I say almost because I totally freaked out at the thought of having sex with someone. It's been awhile by choice and I didn't want to ruin my "No sex without monogamy" streak over some piercing green eyes. It's pretty bad when you grab your top and say, "No! I can't do this"

Him: *chuckle* Ok.

Me: I'm serious.

Him: Why?

Me: It's been months.

Him: *chuckle*

Me: *blink*

Him: Well, it's like riding a bike. I'll show you.

Me: I want monogamy. I want to be in a relationship with the person I'm intimate with.

Him: *gets off of me*

It just occured to me that Mother's Day is in less than two weeks and all I could say in response to that was, "Ain't that about a bitch!".

Good Friend. Baaaad Blogger.

Hey, ya'll! I just wanted to tell you that I have not forgotten about the many posts I promised you. They are all either on paper or in my head. I was going to do it Friday night but then my dogs ate my laptop charger. They are running up a tab with Jesus.

There's also another one because we had a Celebrity Sighting and I must tell you all about it. I've even got proof. The pressure is totally on now if you know what I mean.

Because I feel a need to explain why I've been such a horrible Bloggie, I shall commence with the details of my weekend.

Right now, as I type, I am waiting for The Trainer to meet me here at Mom's house. Don't scrunch your face at me. I'm just helping him get his blog in order. I'm going to start doing a Friday Fitness segment and we will get our tips from his blog. Trust me, you will benefit from his tips. He really is a personal trainer. So be on the look out for guest posts from The Trainer.

Before that I took April and Rebecca to the park. I walked while they rode their bikes. An hour later I had confiscated two soda bottles, emptied and crushed them making two little boys cry. Their mom can be mad all day but she was nowhere to be found when they were throwing those bottles at other children. So naturally, I told her to suck a fat one.

Yesterday was madness but in a good way. First, the Bestie and I went to the museum to the Chihuly exhibit. Absolute perfection. We also put together a puzzle. I know you shouldn't yell in a museum, but this thing was a first class bitch and its completion was cause for celebration. We also tapped into our inner ar-teist and drew zoo animals. Mrs. G was all over the Blue-Footed Booby and I whipped out a classic Empire Penguin. I also signed it as a 3rd grader. Quit judging me.

From there I made my way to A's house and helped her move. It took 5 hours to get everything from one house to the other and she only moved 4 blocks away. She had the Mary Poppins basement. She brought out a box of sandpaper. A whole box! A hefty bag full of empty boxes. A set of 4 stairs. When I questioned these items she said (and I quote), "It may look like trash to you but I need these things".

Me: Stairs, though? Why?

A: I thought the kids might want to play with them.

Me: You're going to let the children play on stairs?

A: Just put them on the truck!

She's an artist without a t.v., a car, or even a radio. We'll chalk it up to that.

And Friday, well, I don't really remember Friday. But I do know that I was supposed to go somewhere and that person cancelled. After that, I think I slept and crocheted. It's hard to remember because it was so long ago.

See you tomorrow in the a.m.

And yes, I promise to behave with Trainer. Maybe.

A Play On Words

I just got off the phone with my father and I'm seething!

Apparently, he miscommunicated the reason for him moving out of the apartment he shares with Autumn (his "girlfriend" of over a decade that he's ALWAYS chosen over me and my brothers even though she's broken off their engagement no less than three times!!!). It seems as though when he said, "I'm moving out but I haven't told her yet" and "I can't take those kids anymore" and "Autumn doesn't know that I'm leaving" I took it to mean that he was leaving her or their relationship. But what he tells me today is that what he meant is the lease is up on the apartment they share.

How the fuck is that the same?!?

When I have to move because my lease is up, I say shit like, "I'm looking for a new place because my lease is up".

And Ethan? Well, he's here. In the city in which I live. But no one saw fit to tell me so that I could see him or at least say goodbye before he took off for Asia. It will be TWO YEARS at least before I see him again. But does that matter? Ooooooooobviously, it only matters to me.

And you know why they say they didn't tell me? Because of F. I can't stand that bitch and it's not a secret. But I dont see how she gets to dictate whether or not I am permitted to see my brother when he's 15 miles away and has been for two days.

I am in that place where I could give a bunny the hammerfist.

But you know my dad is so giving. He said that I sounded really upset so he's just gonna call me tomorrow to see if I'm feeling better.

Oh, I'll feel better tomorrow... if I get to punch his face tonight.