I love this song. Years ago, I went on a trip with my Mom, sister, and some family friends. They left an Earth, Wind and Fire CD, which I totally "borrowed" and listened to.
I love to dance to this song.
Showing posts with label my Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my Mom. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Dancing in September
I love this song. Years ago, I went on a trip with my Mom, sister, and some family friends. They left an Earth, Wind and Fire CD, which I totally "borrowed" and listened to.
I love to dance to this song.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Meanwhile, Back at Home...
My Mom called tonight three different times. I didn't really mind, but it was sort of strange because we sometimes go a long time without speaking to each other, not because we're fighting or anything, but just because she's so busy.
Among other things, the basement is apparently flooded. Or flooding right now. It was a little hard to tell, and from the way my Mom was talking, she was clearly upset about it. She spent a ton of time last week cleaning the basement up, and now it's managed to be a mess in a totally different way, and I can understand why that would be frustrating. She started sobbing a little on the phone. I hate hearing her cry, not because I'm angry at her crying but because I wish the things that made her cry would disappear. I want her to be happy. She didn't cry for more than a minute and then she pulled herself together to continue the conversation.
Also upsetting her is that my Dad was asked to help take care of the flooding while she took care of some business she had to do, and he apparently did nothing.
Among other things, the basement is apparently flooded. Or flooding right now. It was a little hard to tell, and from the way my Mom was talking, she was clearly upset about it. She spent a ton of time last week cleaning the basement up, and now it's managed to be a mess in a totally different way, and I can understand why that would be frustrating. She started sobbing a little on the phone. I hate hearing her cry, not because I'm angry at her crying but because I wish the things that made her cry would disappear. I want her to be happy. She didn't cry for more than a minute and then she pulled herself together to continue the conversation.
Also upsetting her is that my Dad was asked to help take care of the flooding while she took care of some business she had to do, and he apparently did nothing.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The First Weekend of the Year
I watched the game, and by the time we got to the third quarter, my heart was broken. We were behind by thirty-five points. Alabama kept getting the ball and running it against us.
Then I remembered that it was after three and I still hadn't had anything to eat. I made myself some nachos.
My Mom came in and ate some of them, and this personally irked me. I hate how people are always eating my food.
I turned the tv off after we fell behind by forty-two points. I just couldn't watch it anymore because it was depressing me.
My sister turned on some dumb MTV show. And then my internet wouldn't connect. I don't know why, but it seems like lately a lot of bad things have happened, and somehow, not being able to connect to the internet was too much to deal with.
I went out for a walk. I haven't been out for a walk in weeks, even though I've just stayed inside to exercise. For the first part of my walk, I was still depressed, thinking about the bad things that had happened this week. But by the time I got back home, I was feeling cheerful.
As I was taking off my shoes, my Mom started talking to me about all this stuff she wanted me to do in the next few days and then about my Grandma (who is still in the hospital). I just felt like a deflating balloon. What little cheerfulness I had left me.
We went out to dinner. My sister didn't want to come along. In the car, my Mom asked if she had a fight with her boyfriend.
"I don't know. She didn't say anything to me about it," I said. Mom didn't really have any proof, just that she was sort of a mope the last twenty-four hours. I had noticed that too.
Dinner was okay. My Mom usually is fine at restaurants, but she chose tonight to be one of those people who harass the wait staff. One of the waiters came up and asked if we wanted more of some chips. My Mom said that she was hoping the food would come out soon. This apparently prompted the manager to come over and say the food was coming soon.
Uh-oh.
Then my Mom wasn't happy with how her burger was cooked, and they took it back and got her a new one. The manager came over again and checked to make sure the second one was cooked well and then came back to ask her again if it was okay.
I think the manager was overreacting a bit, but at the same time it's so embarrassing. We got out of there soon.
When I got back, my sister was watching Jersey Shore. I tried to do some work in the same room. Then the boyfriend called. She talked to him briefly, telling him that all he had to do was give his Dad's name and use his ID. I don't know what that was over, but doesn't sound much like making up.
I worked on putting some new music on my MP3 player. As I was trying to get a CD to work, and it wouldn't import. I tried to get it a second time and it worked then.
Then the boyfriend walked into the room. He sat down with my sister and they tried to watch a movie. Something about the air was really tense (they couldn't decide what to watch) so I left. I went to the next room, continuing the fixing up of my MP3 player and reading about French chansons in between.
My sister and her boyfriend watched the UConn/Oklahoma game. I watched bits and pieces of it. Man, Oklahoma's a good team. They're fast and they're rough.
The only thing I don't like about them is their mascot. I'm strangely picky about mascots, and I find there's something really awful about glorifying the Sooners, who were part of a bunch of white people who kicked Native Americans off their land, the land the government forced them on after torturing them through the Trail of Tears. (Among other things, soldiers raped Native American women, specifically targeting those who spoke English.)
I watched part of the Crow which I've never seen before but heard a lot about over the years. I can see why people like it. Then I watched Criminal Minds. I'm trying to watch as much of it as possible because I don't have access to it when I leave home, being without a tv and all. Mostly, being without a tv is a good thing, but sometimes I don't want to do anything but veg out, and watching tv has to be the ultimate way to veg out.
Afterwards, I was still not quite ready for bed, so I sat down and read for about an hour. Then I fixed myself a drink and read for another hour and finally I felt ready for bed.
I had another dream about Sam, the second one in about a month. It's so strange dreaming about Sam because I don't usually think about her at all. This time, I walked into a room and there she was, sitting at her computer. We talk, though I can't really remember what about, though I think part of the conversation centers around music, specifically a CD I bought when I was in Canada. Then we start dancing around, and she's shouting the way she used to.
I haven't seen Sam for at least a year now. Right around this time, she packed up her bags and left, not saying goodbye to me or anyone else. In the time leading up to her leaving, I saw her around less and less, because we were no longer living in the same area or in the same field of work. But she was living with Emily and Chrissy, and she didn't say anything to them either (even if my last dream implied Emily knew more than she told me at the time.)
When I got up, my Mom was in the kitchen, talking about how she was going to see my Grandma in the hospital today. I wanted to go, but not really now.
I took another walk. This time, I put on my MP3 player and went around the neighborhood. There was no one around, and I sort of like it this way. I don't really like it when people around here stop and talk to me because I don't necessarily want to talk to them, and usually they ask what I'm up to, and honestly I'm too tired to talk about that these days.
Then I remembered that it was after three and I still hadn't had anything to eat. I made myself some nachos.
My Mom came in and ate some of them, and this personally irked me. I hate how people are always eating my food.
I turned the tv off after we fell behind by forty-two points. I just couldn't watch it anymore because it was depressing me.
My sister turned on some dumb MTV show. And then my internet wouldn't connect. I don't know why, but it seems like lately a lot of bad things have happened, and somehow, not being able to connect to the internet was too much to deal with.
I went out for a walk. I haven't been out for a walk in weeks, even though I've just stayed inside to exercise. For the first part of my walk, I was still depressed, thinking about the bad things that had happened this week. But by the time I got back home, I was feeling cheerful.
As I was taking off my shoes, my Mom started talking to me about all this stuff she wanted me to do in the next few days and then about my Grandma (who is still in the hospital). I just felt like a deflating balloon. What little cheerfulness I had left me.
We went out to dinner. My sister didn't want to come along. In the car, my Mom asked if she had a fight with her boyfriend.
"I don't know. She didn't say anything to me about it," I said. Mom didn't really have any proof, just that she was sort of a mope the last twenty-four hours. I had noticed that too.
Dinner was okay. My Mom usually is fine at restaurants, but she chose tonight to be one of those people who harass the wait staff. One of the waiters came up and asked if we wanted more of some chips. My Mom said that she was hoping the food would come out soon. This apparently prompted the manager to come over and say the food was coming soon.
Uh-oh.
Then my Mom wasn't happy with how her burger was cooked, and they took it back and got her a new one. The manager came over again and checked to make sure the second one was cooked well and then came back to ask her again if it was okay.
I think the manager was overreacting a bit, but at the same time it's so embarrassing. We got out of there soon.
When I got back, my sister was watching Jersey Shore. I tried to do some work in the same room. Then the boyfriend called. She talked to him briefly, telling him that all he had to do was give his Dad's name and use his ID. I don't know what that was over, but doesn't sound much like making up.
I worked on putting some new music on my MP3 player. As I was trying to get a CD to work, and it wouldn't import. I tried to get it a second time and it worked then.
Then the boyfriend walked into the room. He sat down with my sister and they tried to watch a movie. Something about the air was really tense (they couldn't decide what to watch) so I left. I went to the next room, continuing the fixing up of my MP3 player and reading about French chansons in between.
My sister and her boyfriend watched the UConn/Oklahoma game. I watched bits and pieces of it. Man, Oklahoma's a good team. They're fast and they're rough.
The only thing I don't like about them is their mascot. I'm strangely picky about mascots, and I find there's something really awful about glorifying the Sooners, who were part of a bunch of white people who kicked Native Americans off their land, the land the government forced them on after torturing them through the Trail of Tears. (Among other things, soldiers raped Native American women, specifically targeting those who spoke English.)
I watched part of the Crow which I've never seen before but heard a lot about over the years. I can see why people like it. Then I watched Criminal Minds. I'm trying to watch as much of it as possible because I don't have access to it when I leave home, being without a tv and all. Mostly, being without a tv is a good thing, but sometimes I don't want to do anything but veg out, and watching tv has to be the ultimate way to veg out.
Afterwards, I was still not quite ready for bed, so I sat down and read for about an hour. Then I fixed myself a drink and read for another hour and finally I felt ready for bed.
I had another dream about Sam, the second one in about a month. It's so strange dreaming about Sam because I don't usually think about her at all. This time, I walked into a room and there she was, sitting at her computer. We talk, though I can't really remember what about, though I think part of the conversation centers around music, specifically a CD I bought when I was in Canada. Then we start dancing around, and she's shouting the way she used to.
I haven't seen Sam for at least a year now. Right around this time, she packed up her bags and left, not saying goodbye to me or anyone else. In the time leading up to her leaving, I saw her around less and less, because we were no longer living in the same area or in the same field of work. But she was living with Emily and Chrissy, and she didn't say anything to them either (even if my last dream implied Emily knew more than she told me at the time.)
When I got up, my Mom was in the kitchen, talking about how she was going to see my Grandma in the hospital today. I wanted to go, but not really now.
I took another walk. This time, I put on my MP3 player and went around the neighborhood. There was no one around, and I sort of like it this way. I don't really like it when people around here stop and talk to me because I don't necessarily want to talk to them, and usually they ask what I'm up to, and honestly I'm too tired to talk about that these days.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Politics Over Dinner
After getting home from all the fun last night, my Mom made some popcorn and then I took a shower. I stayed up doing a bit of writing and then went to sleep.
I actually did alright last night sleeping-wise. It still took me awhile to sleep, but I don't think I woke up as fully as I usually do some nights.
When I got up this morning, I could tell there was some kind of tension. My Mom was clearly stressed out about something. She swore at her computer. She left soon after that.
One of the neighbors called. We did them a good deed in July, and they wanted to know if they could take us out to dinner. We've kept telling them that, really, no big deal, but they insist.
Us going to dinner depended on my Grandma, who is still in the hospital. My Mom called to say that they gave her some drug to make her sleep (she hasn't been sleeping either, only she'll go days without sleeping, even though she is too tired to eat most of the time.) My Mom said she was hoping she would stay in bed without incident, and that if so, we would go.
My Dad went out for some errands, and I decided to use this time to get myself some food. My Dad has this tendency to be in the kitchen whenever I am, and if he's not outright telling me what to eat, he's staring at me. It's annoying and creepy.
The problem with getting up with my computer is that it is so cold in our house I really don't want to get up. I'll be in two layers of pajamas and with two blankets on and still be cold. I really don't want to give up my blankets just to get food (even though I had been up for hours and hadn't had anything to eat.)
My sister and I complain about there not being enough food in the house. This is sort of true. There are lots of little snack things or things you could use to make a meal, if you had the other ingredients. It's one of the many things I hate about it here.
But today I was excited because someone got rice cakes, which I really love and haven't had in ages. They're delicious, though simple.
After my meal, I sat down again and did some more writing and reading. I put on some music and tried to sing. I'm not much of a singer. Then my sister came down. I felt bad because I probably woke her up. I didn't mean to, but I didn't think she was in the house.
Madison sent me a message saying her uncle died last night. I feel badly for her. It seems like a lot of people, her family included, have seen a lot of unexpected deaths lately.
Ashley is having a party tomorrow for New Year's, so I texted her asking if I could bring a date. I had a certain someone in mind, but I wasn't sure if he'd be interested anyway, since he already told me he made plans.
I didn't have to wait long for a reply from Ashley- it was almost instantaneous. She said sure and asked who the lucky guy was.
Er. If he came I guess he was lucky.
I made the call. I got his voicemail, which didn't surprise me, since he usually didn't keep his phone around him all the time. I left him a message.
I have a love/hate relationship with leaving messages. On one hand, it's nice sometimes to just do that, but I'm always so afraid of making a fool of myself on these messages and saying the wrong thing or just generally sounding stupid. No one has ever mentioned that I sound funny on these messages, but it would be just my luck that one day I do mess up and then someone has another bit of proof that I'm an idiot.
I sat down and worked on my writing. I had a bunch of editing to do on a piece I wrote last week. It's a short piece, but it clearly needs a lot of work. I worked on it for a while.
My Mom called and asked me to look up a phone number for her, which I did. Then she asks me to tell my Dad (whenever he gets home) to talk to her about this dinner we may or may not be going to. She said we would probably go. My Mom thinks that they are watching their budget since they offered pizza. I suspect she may be right too.
I was not really excited to go. Inevitably, there will be questions about what I am doing with my life. When I explain what I'm interested in, it'll be tough because they are from a very different set of political views. When I found out, I was vaguely disappointed with them. I was hoping to avoid certain specific questions.
It was actually not too bad. When we got there, they gave me hugs. We had salad and pizza. My Mom was late, as usual, coming from the hospital.
We had a mostly nice conversation. Gary is working a lot, which surprised my parents because they thought he would be out of a job. Rose has a sister who is really sick and in a nursing home, though not the same nursing home where her mom is.
They updated us on their family. Shannon just got married. Kelly is dating someone named Chris. Derek is working at a pizza place nearby. There was some stories about how we wanted to die. We didn't really have as much to update them on.
I mean, I guess I could tell them about what I was up to, since so many people don't have beyond a high school education when it comes to my field, most people don't really have the background to understand what I'm doing with my life. And it's been my experience people aren't always that interested.
Which was fine, but then my Mom had to open her mouth and tell them what I was doing. There was a quiet moment of disapproval, but it was brief. I'm a little ticked at my Mom because everything was going so well, and it was so unnecessary for her to open her mouth. My Mom just can't seem to help herself. This is why I am always so hesitant to tell her things because I absolutely hate that my life gets thrown out there like that, especially when I try to get along with people.
I guess that other thing that I really hate about this was the tone my Mom used. I get it; she disapproves of my political beliefs. Fine. I'm happy to quietly roll my eyes and not fight. She's always picking fights with me about it, and mocking it to her friends. I particularly hate that.
I actually did alright last night sleeping-wise. It still took me awhile to sleep, but I don't think I woke up as fully as I usually do some nights.
When I got up this morning, I could tell there was some kind of tension. My Mom was clearly stressed out about something. She swore at her computer. She left soon after that.
One of the neighbors called. We did them a good deed in July, and they wanted to know if they could take us out to dinner. We've kept telling them that, really, no big deal, but they insist.
Us going to dinner depended on my Grandma, who is still in the hospital. My Mom called to say that they gave her some drug to make her sleep (she hasn't been sleeping either, only she'll go days without sleeping, even though she is too tired to eat most of the time.) My Mom said she was hoping she would stay in bed without incident, and that if so, we would go.
My Dad went out for some errands, and I decided to use this time to get myself some food. My Dad has this tendency to be in the kitchen whenever I am, and if he's not outright telling me what to eat, he's staring at me. It's annoying and creepy.
The problem with getting up with my computer is that it is so cold in our house I really don't want to get up. I'll be in two layers of pajamas and with two blankets on and still be cold. I really don't want to give up my blankets just to get food (even though I had been up for hours and hadn't had anything to eat.)
My sister and I complain about there not being enough food in the house. This is sort of true. There are lots of little snack things or things you could use to make a meal, if you had the other ingredients. It's one of the many things I hate about it here.
But today I was excited because someone got rice cakes, which I really love and haven't had in ages. They're delicious, though simple.
After my meal, I sat down again and did some more writing and reading. I put on some music and tried to sing. I'm not much of a singer. Then my sister came down. I felt bad because I probably woke her up. I didn't mean to, but I didn't think she was in the house.
Madison sent me a message saying her uncle died last night. I feel badly for her. It seems like a lot of people, her family included, have seen a lot of unexpected deaths lately.
Ashley is having a party tomorrow for New Year's, so I texted her asking if I could bring a date. I had a certain someone in mind, but I wasn't sure if he'd be interested anyway, since he already told me he made plans.
I didn't have to wait long for a reply from Ashley- it was almost instantaneous. She said sure and asked who the lucky guy was.
Er. If he came I guess he was lucky.
I made the call. I got his voicemail, which didn't surprise me, since he usually didn't keep his phone around him all the time. I left him a message.
I have a love/hate relationship with leaving messages. On one hand, it's nice sometimes to just do that, but I'm always so afraid of making a fool of myself on these messages and saying the wrong thing or just generally sounding stupid. No one has ever mentioned that I sound funny on these messages, but it would be just my luck that one day I do mess up and then someone has another bit of proof that I'm an idiot.
I sat down and worked on my writing. I had a bunch of editing to do on a piece I wrote last week. It's a short piece, but it clearly needs a lot of work. I worked on it for a while.
My Mom called and asked me to look up a phone number for her, which I did. Then she asks me to tell my Dad (whenever he gets home) to talk to her about this dinner we may or may not be going to. She said we would probably go. My Mom thinks that they are watching their budget since they offered pizza. I suspect she may be right too.
I was not really excited to go. Inevitably, there will be questions about what I am doing with my life. When I explain what I'm interested in, it'll be tough because they are from a very different set of political views. When I found out, I was vaguely disappointed with them. I was hoping to avoid certain specific questions.
It was actually not too bad. When we got there, they gave me hugs. We had salad and pizza. My Mom was late, as usual, coming from the hospital.
We had a mostly nice conversation. Gary is working a lot, which surprised my parents because they thought he would be out of a job. Rose has a sister who is really sick and in a nursing home, though not the same nursing home where her mom is.
They updated us on their family. Shannon just got married. Kelly is dating someone named Chris. Derek is working at a pizza place nearby. There was some stories about how we wanted to die. We didn't really have as much to update them on.
I mean, I guess I could tell them about what I was up to, since so many people don't have beyond a high school education when it comes to my field, most people don't really have the background to understand what I'm doing with my life. And it's been my experience people aren't always that interested.
Which was fine, but then my Mom had to open her mouth and tell them what I was doing. There was a quiet moment of disapproval, but it was brief. I'm a little ticked at my Mom because everything was going so well, and it was so unnecessary for her to open her mouth. My Mom just can't seem to help herself. This is why I am always so hesitant to tell her things because I absolutely hate that my life gets thrown out there like that, especially when I try to get along with people.
I guess that other thing that I really hate about this was the tone my Mom used. I get it; she disapproves of my political beliefs. Fine. I'm happy to quietly roll my eyes and not fight. She's always picking fights with me about it, and mocking it to her friends. I particularly hate that.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday Night with Friends and Family
Not that long after my last post, I got really bad news: my Grandma was in the hospital again, and this time she almost died. (They asked what her legal situation was should that happen.) Basically, she was unresponsive. They think they overdosed her on Vicodin, which really annoys me because it says on her charts her kidneys are terrible. My Mom was sobbing when she found out, and mostly, I really wish we'd taken her to another hospital, because, seriously, people at that place are deficient and incompetent. I'm increasingly more impressed with my medical skills and I didn't actually go to med school.
After that mess, Tori called asking if I wanted to grab dinner with her and Lisa. I said yes, so she came over while I ran around getting dressed. (I spent all afternoon in my pajamas writing.) We went out for pizza.
Lisa updated me on her brother's life. He's been doing volunteer work, and then after that he's going to join up with the army again.
Lisa also took a psychology class on women, and she realized all this great feminism stuff. I'm a little sad for her because she's just only learning now how oppressed women are, but maybe this class will make her more thoughtful and critical about gender.
Tori's sister is pregnant with twins! That's really awesome. I am so happy for her. (Her sister has been trying for around seven years.) Tori went shopping with her for maternity clothes and she said that there was "slutty" maternity clothes. Learn new things all the time.
When I got home, I took a shower, and by the time I got out, my sister was back. She and I were planning on watching Eclipse because we both love Jacob. Neither of us has seen it yet and I seriously hate so much of that franchise, but Jacob is the light in this cave of darkness.
She wasn't sure we could watch it right away, because she was going to get some craft supplies with Mom. Whatever. Maybe I'll watch a horror movie or do some more writing, I thought. I'm just glad for a little break and some time with people.
So I went upstairs and did find myself working on writing again. I put on some Christmas music to get through it. (I never voluntarily listen to Christmas music! What's wrong with me? Something about this year has got me in the spirit.)
As I was writing and listening to Christmas music, my sister poked her head in my door and told me not to come down. I assume this means something was going on that they didn't want me to see. Given this time of year, it means that there is some present that they don't want me to see. I actually was thinking of going down because I was hungry, but I decided to wait a little longer, give them some time for whatever was going on.
Dan and I were texting, and he called. We spoke briefly. I was hoping maybe we could hang out over Christmas break, but he says he's going to see family and won't be around.
Finally, I went downstairs, where yes, my sister was wrapping presents. I've volunteered to do her's, even though she says she's willing to do them as well. She made them the ones she did look really nice.
My Mom, my sister and I sat down to watch Eclipse, which we've never seen. My sister and I are Team Jacob and my Mom doesn't care. We've been having trouble with our DVD player for a while now. Basically, the screen's image will just suddenly disappear and the screen will be black, but you'll still be able to hear the audio. Since the entire point of watching this movie was to admire Jacob's hott body, this was not what we wanted. I would troubleshoot it a little, eventually get the picture back, but we ended up pausing the movie around two in the morning because we were all tired.
And now I am going to go to bed. Goodnight.
After that mess, Tori called asking if I wanted to grab dinner with her and Lisa. I said yes, so she came over while I ran around getting dressed. (I spent all afternoon in my pajamas writing.) We went out for pizza.
Lisa updated me on her brother's life. He's been doing volunteer work, and then after that he's going to join up with the army again.
Lisa also took a psychology class on women, and she realized all this great feminism stuff. I'm a little sad for her because she's just only learning now how oppressed women are, but maybe this class will make her more thoughtful and critical about gender.
Tori's sister is pregnant with twins! That's really awesome. I am so happy for her. (Her sister has been trying for around seven years.) Tori went shopping with her for maternity clothes and she said that there was "slutty" maternity clothes. Learn new things all the time.
When I got home, I took a shower, and by the time I got out, my sister was back. She and I were planning on watching Eclipse because we both love Jacob. Neither of us has seen it yet and I seriously hate so much of that franchise, but Jacob is the light in this cave of darkness.
She wasn't sure we could watch it right away, because she was going to get some craft supplies with Mom. Whatever. Maybe I'll watch a horror movie or do some more writing, I thought. I'm just glad for a little break and some time with people.
So I went upstairs and did find myself working on writing again. I put on some Christmas music to get through it. (I never voluntarily listen to Christmas music! What's wrong with me? Something about this year has got me in the spirit.)
As I was writing and listening to Christmas music, my sister poked her head in my door and told me not to come down. I assume this means something was going on that they didn't want me to see. Given this time of year, it means that there is some present that they don't want me to see. I actually was thinking of going down because I was hungry, but I decided to wait a little longer, give them some time for whatever was going on.
Dan and I were texting, and he called. We spoke briefly. I was hoping maybe we could hang out over Christmas break, but he says he's going to see family and won't be around.
Finally, I went downstairs, where yes, my sister was wrapping presents. I've volunteered to do her's, even though she says she's willing to do them as well. She made them the ones she did look really nice.
My Mom, my sister and I sat down to watch Eclipse, which we've never seen. My sister and I are Team Jacob and my Mom doesn't care. We've been having trouble with our DVD player for a while now. Basically, the screen's image will just suddenly disappear and the screen will be black, but you'll still be able to hear the audio. Since the entire point of watching this movie was to admire Jacob's hott body, this was not what we wanted. I would troubleshoot it a little, eventually get the picture back, but we ended up pausing the movie around two in the morning because we were all tired.
And now I am going to go to bed. Goodnight.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Christmas Gawking
I went out today to do some Christmas shopping and looking at Christmas decorations. I know lots of other people do the latter, driving around neighborhoods, hitting the local downtown to see how everything is decorated, but I've never heard a very good verb for it. As of right now, I'm calling it Christmas gawking, for lack of a better word.
Today's Christmas gawking was very good. I found a bunch of tacky Christmas musicians statues. I went past an ice skating rink, and even though it was morning, the place was in full force. I saw some light/snowflake things and Angels with big horns decorating an area full of bushes.
I went into a toy store. I wasn't really planning on buying anything, but I thought maybe it would get me into the spirit. There were lots of kids running around and yelling and begging for things. They had fancy Lego displays out. I really love legos, still. I loved elaborate mansions for my lego people to live in when I was little. (I was not very interested in using the bits and pieces the way you were "meant" to; I liked making my own things, though they were probably not as appealing.) The only bad thing was that the displays were set at a child's level, so I had to bend down to catch a peak at most of them. Luckily, one of the square right outside the door was totally visible no matter what your height, and I loved that Darth Vader with a whip and a Stormtropper were battling it out on top of a skyscraper while some owls watched near some pirates getting drunk. Pretty amusing.
I headed out again. I wandered around a bit because I had forgotten the directions I had written for myself this morning. I was a little annoyed with myself, because I had reminded myself about five times to write them down, and then they ended staying at home anyway.
It took me one false try, but I found where I wanted to be and headed into a shop. This year, some of my friends and I are exchanging gifts, and I wanted to get them all done in one swoop. Also, I wanted to get something nice for my sister. (I had already managed a box of chocolates for my Mom.) So, shhh! don't tell anyone what I got for them. :)
I was expecting to have an easy time for Lisa and Tori's gift, but actually the first thing I found was for Madison. I was going to get her a purse, and I found one, a little bigger than I wanted, but with the design I wanted. (It's pink. Madison likes pink.) So I got that down. I found some postcards too.
(As I've mentioned before, I collect postcards. I'm very picky with what postcards I take, and most of the kind out there I reject, but luckily I found a few I like.)
Did some more wandering around, looking in shop windows. I went into another store and found the calendar I wanted for Tori. (It's all pictures of hot guys. Or what will probably be hot guys to her. Honestly, I only found some of them attractive; what I want is a calendar of hott guys from my real life, which is to say, as a tentative list: Mark, Philip, Juicebox, Paul, Josh, Matt, Jack, Ryan, Dan...The problem with most of this list is that I suspect most of them would not agree to it, and I know Juicebox would not, because I ran the idea of him doing sexy Valentines past him last year and that did not go over well. And, moreover, a lot of these boys are super awkward around me with clothes, and I can imagine in those pictures they'd just look super awkward without clothes, so maybe it is for the best? Sorry. I digress.)
I decided not to be too picky about Lisa's gift, because she would probably love it no matter what. I got her a stuffed teddy bear that was especially cute. I almost got her a violently colored long-limbed monkey, but I feel like she'll like the classic better. Lisa has a whole collection of stuffed animals (Michal complains about them.) She even has stuffed animals buckled into the back of her car.
I was looking at more postcards, and I found another vintage one (my favorite) and when I went to buy it (a quarter, which made it even sweeter) he told me just to take it as a gift. I was totally flabbergasted because, yes, it was nothing, but I'm not used to getting anything for free. I was so flabbergasted it wasn't until later I realized I didn't thank him. Oh man. Where have my East Lansing manners gone off too? Maybe that's what I need to put on my Christmas list for Santa.
The last one was my sister. There are purses that I've been considering for her, but I didn't have any luck finding the kind I want for her. I talked to my Mum on the phone last night for ideas, and she gave me some, but no luck yet.
I'm going to go out again tonight and hopefully find something. I actually have a lot to do and don't really have time for this, but I feel like I should try. I could just get her a nice scarf (though I've never seen her wear scarves) or maybe some fancy lotion from a boutique.
I should have started doing this earlier.
Today's Christmas gawking was very good. I found a bunch of tacky Christmas musicians statues. I went past an ice skating rink, and even though it was morning, the place was in full force. I saw some light/snowflake things and Angels with big horns decorating an area full of bushes.
I went into a toy store. I wasn't really planning on buying anything, but I thought maybe it would get me into the spirit. There were lots of kids running around and yelling and begging for things. They had fancy Lego displays out. I really love legos, still. I loved elaborate mansions for my lego people to live in when I was little. (I was not very interested in using the bits and pieces the way you were "meant" to; I liked making my own things, though they were probably not as appealing.) The only bad thing was that the displays were set at a child's level, so I had to bend down to catch a peak at most of them. Luckily, one of the square right outside the door was totally visible no matter what your height, and I loved that Darth Vader with a whip and a Stormtropper were battling it out on top of a skyscraper while some owls watched near some pirates getting drunk. Pretty amusing.
I headed out again. I wandered around a bit because I had forgotten the directions I had written for myself this morning. I was a little annoyed with myself, because I had reminded myself about five times to write them down, and then they ended staying at home anyway.
It took me one false try, but I found where I wanted to be and headed into a shop. This year, some of my friends and I are exchanging gifts, and I wanted to get them all done in one swoop. Also, I wanted to get something nice for my sister. (I had already managed a box of chocolates for my Mom.) So, shhh! don't tell anyone what I got for them. :)
I was expecting to have an easy time for Lisa and Tori's gift, but actually the first thing I found was for Madison. I was going to get her a purse, and I found one, a little bigger than I wanted, but with the design I wanted. (It's pink. Madison likes pink.) So I got that down. I found some postcards too.
(As I've mentioned before, I collect postcards. I'm very picky with what postcards I take, and most of the kind out there I reject, but luckily I found a few I like.)
Did some more wandering around, looking in shop windows. I went into another store and found the calendar I wanted for Tori. (It's all pictures of hot guys. Or what will probably be hot guys to her. Honestly, I only found some of them attractive; what I want is a calendar of hott guys from my real life, which is to say, as a tentative list: Mark, Philip, Juicebox, Paul, Josh, Matt, Jack, Ryan, Dan...The problem with most of this list is that I suspect most of them would not agree to it, and I know Juicebox would not, because I ran the idea of him doing sexy Valentines past him last year and that did not go over well. And, moreover, a lot of these boys are super awkward around me with clothes, and I can imagine in those pictures they'd just look super awkward without clothes, so maybe it is for the best? Sorry. I digress.)
I decided not to be too picky about Lisa's gift, because she would probably love it no matter what. I got her a stuffed teddy bear that was especially cute. I almost got her a violently colored long-limbed monkey, but I feel like she'll like the classic better. Lisa has a whole collection of stuffed animals (Michal complains about them.) She even has stuffed animals buckled into the back of her car.
I was looking at more postcards, and I found another vintage one (my favorite) and when I went to buy it (a quarter, which made it even sweeter) he told me just to take it as a gift. I was totally flabbergasted because, yes, it was nothing, but I'm not used to getting anything for free. I was so flabbergasted it wasn't until later I realized I didn't thank him. Oh man. Where have my East Lansing manners gone off too? Maybe that's what I need to put on my Christmas list for Santa.
The last one was my sister. There are purses that I've been considering for her, but I didn't have any luck finding the kind I want for her. I talked to my Mum on the phone last night for ideas, and she gave me some, but no luck yet.
I'm going to go out again tonight and hopefully find something. I actually have a lot to do and don't really have time for this, but I feel like I should try. I could just get her a nice scarf (though I've never seen her wear scarves) or maybe some fancy lotion from a boutique.
I should have started doing this earlier.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Medicine and Minds
Went to hang out at my Grandma's today. It was mostly uneventful. My Mom showed me how to give her breathing medicine. Basically, my Grandma now needs to get hooked up to this device that puts a medicine into air and she breaths it in. I'm not actually sure what it's for, but my Mom was giving me directions about it as I tried to eat my dinner and watch Criminal Minds. "Can I eat my dinner in peace?" I wanted to ask, but refrained.
It occurred to me (earlier) before my Mom was showing me this new kind of medicine, that I like Criminal Minds for a couple of different reasons, and not solely because of Dr. Reid. I like that, even though the world is a dark and terrible place, all the characters on the show respect each other, and a lot of them have affections for one another. There's something rather family like about them, and they sort of remind me of some of my groups of friends. I also like how there are always literary quotes scattered throughout the show.
I think maybe it's time I learn how to use a needle. My Grandma occasionally needs injections, and it's another way I could help. I'm a little scared to use a needle, especially on my Grandma, who busies easily. I don't want to hurt her (even accidentally) and she has a tendency to fixate on her bruises.
It occurred to me (earlier) before my Mom was showing me this new kind of medicine, that I like Criminal Minds for a couple of different reasons, and not solely because of Dr. Reid. I like that, even though the world is a dark and terrible place, all the characters on the show respect each other, and a lot of them have affections for one another. There's something rather family like about them, and they sort of remind me of some of my groups of friends. I also like how there are always literary quotes scattered throughout the show.
I think maybe it's time I learn how to use a needle. My Grandma occasionally needs injections, and it's another way I could help. I'm a little scared to use a needle, especially on my Grandma, who busies easily. I don't want to hurt her (even accidentally) and she has a tendency to fixate on her bruises.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
A Family Project
My Mom told me a few days ago that she wants to make getting me into graduate school "a family project." No thanks.
As much as I like where I ended up, I'm still angry and bitter at them for forcing me to go there. Even though I had decent grades and had offers to try elsewhere, my family wouldn't hear of it. They were too concerned for what was good for them to care about what might be good for me. I don't think I'm ever forgiving them for cajoling me into those circumstances, especially after they have spent so much lip service carrying on about how important education is to them, and how they always support their children. Please.
And then my Dad felt the need to tell me that he wanted to meet with my professors to talk to them about this. First off, I don't think my Dad (or Mom) deserve to meet anyone from school. I was involved in extra curricular activities and they had plenty of opportunities to come to those, which they rarely did, even though I invited them. They could have easily met people there, but I feel like now, especially after events in which very publicly, I was the only one without a family, they don't really deserve that opportunity.
Also, I'm angry that my Dad can't just accept that what I'm saying is true. I've spent the last four years or so working on either getting into graduate school or working on plan B, which was entering the publishing industry. I went to lectures, and I have experience. Mostly, I think my Dad just doesn't want to give in, and would rather make me do a program I don't want to do because I would waste another at least another two years instead of doing things I want to do.
I'd appreciate some support, sure, but my parents are never really interested in what I want, and, frankly, dealing with them is just another distraction I don't need. At least when I was at school they weren't around so I didn't have to worry about them. They're not really about supporting me, they're about doing what is easy. I am never a priority when I need them, but when they decide they don't like something, that's when they pay attention and meddle.
As much as I like where I ended up, I'm still angry and bitter at them for forcing me to go there. Even though I had decent grades and had offers to try elsewhere, my family wouldn't hear of it. They were too concerned for what was good for them to care about what might be good for me. I don't think I'm ever forgiving them for cajoling me into those circumstances, especially after they have spent so much lip service carrying on about how important education is to them, and how they always support their children. Please.
And then my Dad felt the need to tell me that he wanted to meet with my professors to talk to them about this. First off, I don't think my Dad (or Mom) deserve to meet anyone from school. I was involved in extra curricular activities and they had plenty of opportunities to come to those, which they rarely did, even though I invited them. They could have easily met people there, but I feel like now, especially after events in which very publicly, I was the only one without a family, they don't really deserve that opportunity.
Also, I'm angry that my Dad can't just accept that what I'm saying is true. I've spent the last four years or so working on either getting into graduate school or working on plan B, which was entering the publishing industry. I went to lectures, and I have experience. Mostly, I think my Dad just doesn't want to give in, and would rather make me do a program I don't want to do because I would waste another at least another two years instead of doing things I want to do.
I'd appreciate some support, sure, but my parents are never really interested in what I want, and, frankly, dealing with them is just another distraction I don't need. At least when I was at school they weren't around so I didn't have to worry about them. They're not really about supporting me, they're about doing what is easy. I am never a priority when I need them, but when they decide they don't like something, that's when they pay attention and meddle.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Channel Surfing
School is starting again for everyone else, and so my Mom, Dad and I had to move a bunch of stuff in to the townhouse my sister's living in this year. I was a little annoyed, since my sister didn't actually come this trip to move stuff. She had to study, which also apparently including going out with her friends to a festival.
After I did some small things around the house, my Mom told me there wasn't anything else to do, so I was stuck there. So I ended up watching tv, something I don't usually just do. I have my shows that I'm crazy about, and that's what I watch, but I don't channel surf too often.
I ended up on Criminal Minds, which I've decided (after about four episodes,) I like. I like mysteries and police procedurals, and obviously have watched a lot of Law and Order, so this isn't surprising.
Also unsurprising: I'm enamored of Dr. Reid. I don't usually think of myself as having a type, other than to say I love a smart man. And Dr. Reid has all sorts of degrees and a mind that solves puzzles. Hot. Also, he's all dark and broody because he's afraid his mind is potentially dangerous. So, basically, nerd plus Angel. Love it. Oh, and did I mention he has fabulous hair?
Speaking of great minds: Bazinga, I am in love with Dr. Sheldon Cooper, PhD. I really don't need to watch anymore tv, but I made the mistake of coming across the fanfiction, and, actually, yes, I prefer the fanfiction to the actual show. There's something very mean spirited about the show. None of the male characters seem to like each other that much, they just sort of tolerate one another. And so much of the humor on the show is "Tee-hee! These guys are nerds! They have no self-awareness!" Oh, and I'm annoyed that the one female character's a moron. I hang out with a lot of nerds (sorry, guys, it's true), and much of the interactions ring false. I guess I can't expect these guys to come off as charming and ultimately family-like to one another the want all my nerd friends do.
But Sheldon himself is intriguing and bizarrely charming. His accent, which I've honestly never heard, directly subverts the stereotypes about nerds. And he is unabashedly himself, which I find admirable in a world where everyone's trying to sell themselves all the time.
Fangirling it up sort of makes up for what I really wanted to do that day which was 1.) Go to a concert or 2.) Sleep. (In that order.) My Mom reminded me that my sister helped me move out, but that's not the same as I asked her not to come and was actually there for it.
After I did some small things around the house, my Mom told me there wasn't anything else to do, so I was stuck there. So I ended up watching tv, something I don't usually just do. I have my shows that I'm crazy about, and that's what I watch, but I don't channel surf too often.
I ended up on Criminal Minds, which I've decided (after about four episodes,) I like. I like mysteries and police procedurals, and obviously have watched a lot of Law and Order, so this isn't surprising.
Also unsurprising: I'm enamored of Dr. Reid. I don't usually think of myself as having a type, other than to say I love a smart man. And Dr. Reid has all sorts of degrees and a mind that solves puzzles. Hot. Also, he's all dark and broody because he's afraid his mind is potentially dangerous. So, basically, nerd plus Angel. Love it. Oh, and did I mention he has fabulous hair?
But Sheldon himself is intriguing and bizarrely charming. His accent, which I've honestly never heard, directly subverts the stereotypes about nerds. And he is unabashedly himself, which I find admirable in a world where everyone's trying to sell themselves all the time.
Fangirling it up sort of makes up for what I really wanted to do that day which was 1.) Go to a concert or 2.) Sleep. (In that order.) My Mom reminded me that my sister helped me move out, but that's not the same as I asked her not to come and was actually there for it.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Nervous Nellie
So, I got the job that I was interviewing for a while back. It's been an alright gig at this point.
I'm working with Ashley right now, which I was a little wary about, but again, it's been okay. We did stock the other day, and the two of us got super fast at getting stuff done. She would open the box, and I would pull out all the packing stuff (in this case, mostly that brown paper they wad up). Then she would go through the inventory checklist and I would move the stuff onto the storage shelves. If there was extra still, she'd move those products too. And then whoever had their hands free next went to get the next box, and we moved all over again. We were very efficient, and I was happy as a clam.
Out on the floor, things were not so simple. I'm struggling to learn the cash register. Certain things were never taught to me and other things are just confusing. My superior told me not to be nervous, and that made me feel bad, because I honestly don't feel particularly nervous.
Interacting with the customers went very well. A young woman who worked at the caf at school came in, and I jokingly said that I visited her at her workplace, so she could visit me at mine. And then my Mom and sister came in.
Later on, a woman with four young girls came in looking for a game. I sold them a game by American Girl called I Wish. One of them cried a little at not getting something else, but there are occasionally tears around here. Parents usually handle it, and it's okay.
I'm working with Ashley right now, which I was a little wary about, but again, it's been okay. We did stock the other day, and the two of us got super fast at getting stuff done. She would open the box, and I would pull out all the packing stuff (in this case, mostly that brown paper they wad up). Then she would go through the inventory checklist and I would move the stuff onto the storage shelves. If there was extra still, she'd move those products too. And then whoever had their hands free next went to get the next box, and we moved all over again. We were very efficient, and I was happy as a clam.
Out on the floor, things were not so simple. I'm struggling to learn the cash register. Certain things were never taught to me and other things are just confusing. My superior told me not to be nervous, and that made me feel bad, because I honestly don't feel particularly nervous.
Interacting with the customers went very well. A young woman who worked at the caf at school came in, and I jokingly said that I visited her at her workplace, so she could visit me at mine. And then my Mom and sister came in.
Later on, a woman with four young girls came in looking for a game. I sold them a game by American Girl called I Wish. One of them cried a little at not getting something else, but there are occasionally tears around here. Parents usually handle it, and it's okay.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Optometrist
Like most people, I hate going to see doctor's. But I recently realized what I really hate about going: socializing.
This seems like a strange thing to say, since I'm relatively social. But those people I socialize with are friends. I don't want to talk to my doctor's about stuff. When they ask "How are you?" I want that to be a cue to assert my overall health, not as a chance to catch up on my family, my career and the drama with that one friend.
With this in mind I went to see my optometrist. I sat in the waiting room, reading one of those celebrity magazines that I only look at when there's not something more sophisticated.
I went in with the assistant, an older woman. We tested various small things with my eyes. There's a test where you're suppose to tell if certain circles are jumping out at you while wearing 3-D glasses. As the years have gone on, I have failed more and more of that test.
Failing eye tests are nothing new. When I was thirteen, I had to take an eye test while at school. I failed the first time, with my glasses on. So they called me in a second time, and I failed a second time, again, with my glasses on. I tried to explain to the lady running the test I had really poor eyes, and I think she believed me, but I was really embarrassed by this. I didn't fail anything at that age.
We kept going through tests, and, even with my glasses on, it's amazing how little I can see. I think if I had lived before glasses, I would have been confined.
The doctor came in and I braced myself. This doctor really likes to socialize. It's not that I can't be polite, or that I can't speak back, but this particular doctor likes to talk about politics, and we do not share the same beliefs. Several years ago, he complained to me about a apparently gay English professor who tried to pick him up. I have gay friends, and I know there's almost no way this story is true. LBGT people are scared to pick people up if they don't know their sexuality, especially if they're doing so in an "unsafe" place. (They're more likely to pick up in a gay club or bar, but there it's expected and assumed you're okay with that.) I didn't really tell him I disagree, but I don't really want to talk to him about politics. I only rely on him over my eyes because my Mom insists, but the truth is I'd rather try someone else.
We had a long discussion about surgery. We've been considering surgery for my eyes for what seems like ever now. At least high school, though I think it goes back farther than that. (I was first told that I could use contacts at ten. I never have because something about putting shards of plastic in your eye strikes me as gross. I can't even look at someone who is putting in or taking out their contacts. It's one of the few things I find unsightly.)
Anyway, the surgery option is always on the table, though it's unclear if I qualify. I would need to get checked.
Thankfully, there was none of that. Instead, he went through the usual tests, checking my eyes with those various glasses. When he decided on something, we moved on to making sure I didn't have things like glaucoma.
I hate those eye drops that you get. They always make my eyes sting and they give me a headache. I don't even try to do anything after an eye exam, because I know it's futile to try.
This seems like a strange thing to say, since I'm relatively social. But those people I socialize with are friends. I don't want to talk to my doctor's about stuff. When they ask "How are you?" I want that to be a cue to assert my overall health, not as a chance to catch up on my family, my career and the drama with that one friend.
With this in mind I went to see my optometrist. I sat in the waiting room, reading one of those celebrity magazines that I only look at when there's not something more sophisticated.
I went in with the assistant, an older woman. We tested various small things with my eyes. There's a test where you're suppose to tell if certain circles are jumping out at you while wearing 3-D glasses. As the years have gone on, I have failed more and more of that test.
Failing eye tests are nothing new. When I was thirteen, I had to take an eye test while at school. I failed the first time, with my glasses on. So they called me in a second time, and I failed a second time, again, with my glasses on. I tried to explain to the lady running the test I had really poor eyes, and I think she believed me, but I was really embarrassed by this. I didn't fail anything at that age.
We kept going through tests, and, even with my glasses on, it's amazing how little I can see. I think if I had lived before glasses, I would have been confined.
The doctor came in and I braced myself. This doctor really likes to socialize. It's not that I can't be polite, or that I can't speak back, but this particular doctor likes to talk about politics, and we do not share the same beliefs. Several years ago, he complained to me about a apparently gay English professor who tried to pick him up. I have gay friends, and I know there's almost no way this story is true. LBGT people are scared to pick people up if they don't know their sexuality, especially if they're doing so in an "unsafe" place. (They're more likely to pick up in a gay club or bar, but there it's expected and assumed you're okay with that.) I didn't really tell him I disagree, but I don't really want to talk to him about politics. I only rely on him over my eyes because my Mom insists, but the truth is I'd rather try someone else.
We had a long discussion about surgery. We've been considering surgery for my eyes for what seems like ever now. At least high school, though I think it goes back farther than that. (I was first told that I could use contacts at ten. I never have because something about putting shards of plastic in your eye strikes me as gross. I can't even look at someone who is putting in or taking out their contacts. It's one of the few things I find unsightly.)
Anyway, the surgery option is always on the table, though it's unclear if I qualify. I would need to get checked.
Thankfully, there was none of that. Instead, he went through the usual tests, checking my eyes with those various glasses. When he decided on something, we moved on to making sure I didn't have things like glaucoma.
I hate those eye drops that you get. They always make my eyes sting and they give me a headache. I don't even try to do anything after an eye exam, because I know it's futile to try.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Getting What You Paid For
My Mom and I were out to eat. We had frequented this restaurant four times in the last week, I realized.
As we were about to leave, the waitress came up to me and told me that she had terrible acne like mine when she was little. That's right, a waitress approached me and said something about it without anyone saying anything to her. It was a little strange, but not the end of the world.
She suggested something that she would buy at the dollar store and was so powerful that I would have to use it sparingly. I was intrigued, and maybe I'll try it.
It was totally strange to get accosted by a waitress my Mom's age.
As we were about to leave, the waitress came up to me and told me that she had terrible acne like mine when she was little. That's right, a waitress approached me and said something about it without anyone saying anything to her. It was a little strange, but not the end of the world.
She suggested something that she would buy at the dollar store and was so powerful that I would have to use it sparingly. I was intrigued, and maybe I'll try it.
It was totally strange to get accosted by a waitress my Mom's age.
The Next Place
We tried another place for my Grandma, just because it seemed silly not to consider several options. We walked into a place where there was a little alcove and a bunch of small cafe tables. We signed in. As we walked past, I noticed they had a drink dispenser just like the one the had at the caf at school. I suddenly felt oddly homesick. I missed school. It was an odd thing to remind me of school, I guess, but it did.
We walked down long hallways decorated with green and yellow carpets. Again, there was a lot of fancy decorating that reminded me of old homes. We went through a large room that had a cross on the wall.
We came to a receptionist and asked for a tour. She asked us to fill out a form. My Mom started, then she was getting a call of her cell phone.
One of the things I find that I hate about hanging with my Mom is that she is always getting calls from people. Sometimes they are work related, but their mostly just women who call every day just to talk. Sometimes I'd like to remind people that my Mom is very busy, and doesn't really have time to just talk. My Mom passed me the clipboard, and I began to write other things out.
When it came to my Grandma's conditions, my mind went blank. I knew what was wrong with her, I could explain it, and yet the names of the conditions were just at the tip of my brain. I knew that was a sign that I was tired. I tried to fill it out as best as I could.
When my Mom got off the phone, she looked at my work. "I wouldn't draw attention to this," she said. Then she softened. "But otherwise good job." I wasn't really interested in what she had to say about it, one way or another.
The Program Director came to see us. She was young, looking not that much older than me (which made me wonder). She had long dark brown hair and freckles. She was wearing a purple blouse with a big chunky necklace. She took us around.
She reminded us, almost immediately, that they were a Catholic community. They had mass once a week, as well as rosary once a month and other activities.
She took us into a room to see. She showed us the bed, that a tv already came with the room. She asked if my Grandma was on oxygen. Usually she wasn't, but then my Mom mentioned she might be.
My heart fell a little. No one had mentioned she was going to go on oxygen, though it made sense. She had trouble moving, was tired all the time, and was having respiratory problems. Oxygen made a lot of sense, though I find myself more worried the less she can do for herself. The director showed us how the room was set up to conceal her oxygen tank in a wall fixture.
Every room was private, and every room came with a full bathroom. That scared me a little. My Grandma shouldn't be showering on her own, and she's lazy enough that she doesn't try, but I could see a resident who lacked that to try and shower on their own and then slip and fall.
The director explained that my Grandma's drugs would generally be in her room, because they didn't like pushing a cart around like in a hospital.
"Is there anyone on call at night?" my Mom asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
That didn't sound so good to me either.
We walked down long hallways decorated with green and yellow carpets. Again, there was a lot of fancy decorating that reminded me of old homes. We went through a large room that had a cross on the wall.
We came to a receptionist and asked for a tour. She asked us to fill out a form. My Mom started, then she was getting a call of her cell phone.
One of the things I find that I hate about hanging with my Mom is that she is always getting calls from people. Sometimes they are work related, but their mostly just women who call every day just to talk. Sometimes I'd like to remind people that my Mom is very busy, and doesn't really have time to just talk. My Mom passed me the clipboard, and I began to write other things out.
When it came to my Grandma's conditions, my mind went blank. I knew what was wrong with her, I could explain it, and yet the names of the conditions were just at the tip of my brain. I knew that was a sign that I was tired. I tried to fill it out as best as I could.
When my Mom got off the phone, she looked at my work. "I wouldn't draw attention to this," she said. Then she softened. "But otherwise good job." I wasn't really interested in what she had to say about it, one way or another.
The Program Director came to see us. She was young, looking not that much older than me (which made me wonder). She had long dark brown hair and freckles. She was wearing a purple blouse with a big chunky necklace. She took us around.
She reminded us, almost immediately, that they were a Catholic community. They had mass once a week, as well as rosary once a month and other activities.
She took us into a room to see. She showed us the bed, that a tv already came with the room. She asked if my Grandma was on oxygen. Usually she wasn't, but then my Mom mentioned she might be.
My heart fell a little. No one had mentioned she was going to go on oxygen, though it made sense. She had trouble moving, was tired all the time, and was having respiratory problems. Oxygen made a lot of sense, though I find myself more worried the less she can do for herself. The director showed us how the room was set up to conceal her oxygen tank in a wall fixture.
Every room was private, and every room came with a full bathroom. That scared me a little. My Grandma shouldn't be showering on her own, and she's lazy enough that she doesn't try, but I could see a resident who lacked that to try and shower on their own and then slip and fall.
The director explained that my Grandma's drugs would generally be in her room, because they didn't like pushing a cart around like in a hospital.
"Is there anyone on call at night?" my Mom asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
That didn't sound so good to me either.
Sold
My Mom and I were running errands.
First, I got to see a new dermatologist about my acne. My Mother is very particular about what I look like. I was having a really bad day, acne-wise. The dermatologist looked me over, suggested I try one thing and told me to keep using something I already was and then left.
After we got done there, we began our search for places for my Grandma's rehab. She has to go, again, it turns out, after getting out of rehab less than three months ago. Since the last place didn't really do her much good (as she's going back again), we decided to look around at other places.
The first place looked a little like a dentist office from the outside. Windows with curtains drawn, simple brick side. We went inside and requested a tour.
A woman in her early thirties showed us around. She walked us first through the long-term care, which was were my Grandma wasn't going to go since she would hopefully only be there for a few weeks. The walls were decorated with fancy wallpaper that made me think of fancy old homes. The long term ward was decorated in an off-white wallpaper, but the floor my Grandma would be on, one for short-term stays, would be green.
The woman showed us in a sample room. One old woman was laying down in a bed. She looked like she was just about to fall asleep. The set up of the room was two people per room, with a curtain to draw if you wanted a little privacy.
"What about a tv?" my Mom asked.
"We provide that if you pay 3.50."
"And internet?"
"Sorry, we don't have any access to that here."
I could tell that my Mom was trying to piece together a way for her to be with my Grandma a lot without completely forgetting her work. A lot of the paperwork my Mom does is online, which is what she does when she spend days and days over at my Grandma's place. She's there to watch her in case something happens, but she has a job to do too. Without internet access, it was going to be hard for her to stay as long. It also meant I and my sister might have to pick up the slack, which is fine.
The woman also showed us the rehab rooms. There were all the usual things that I had come to expect there, like stairs to practice walking on, and a fake kitchen for occupational therapy, and those big bouncy balls, and bikes and fake beds to practice getting in and out of. There were therapists and patients milling about. The walls were all painted pale yellow and green, and there were words of encouragement on the walls. There was a table on the side with lemonade on it, and I wanted to try some myself, just because I hadn't had anything to eat in so long.
The woman showed us a conference room, and said that every patient had a weekly conference with the doctors, nurses, therapists and family members.
"Sold," I thought. This was one of the many things that had made my Mom so mad about the last time my Grandma was in therapy. Inside, one of these conferences looked like it was going on right now. The woman led us away, back to the front offices.
First, I got to see a new dermatologist about my acne. My Mother is very particular about what I look like. I was having a really bad day, acne-wise. The dermatologist looked me over, suggested I try one thing and told me to keep using something I already was and then left.
After we got done there, we began our search for places for my Grandma's rehab. She has to go, again, it turns out, after getting out of rehab less than three months ago. Since the last place didn't really do her much good (as she's going back again), we decided to look around at other places.
The first place looked a little like a dentist office from the outside. Windows with curtains drawn, simple brick side. We went inside and requested a tour.
A woman in her early thirties showed us around. She walked us first through the long-term care, which was were my Grandma wasn't going to go since she would hopefully only be there for a few weeks. The walls were decorated with fancy wallpaper that made me think of fancy old homes. The long term ward was decorated in an off-white wallpaper, but the floor my Grandma would be on, one for short-term stays, would be green.
The woman showed us in a sample room. One old woman was laying down in a bed. She looked like she was just about to fall asleep. The set up of the room was two people per room, with a curtain to draw if you wanted a little privacy.
"What about a tv?" my Mom asked.
"We provide that if you pay 3.50."
"And internet?"
"Sorry, we don't have any access to that here."
I could tell that my Mom was trying to piece together a way for her to be with my Grandma a lot without completely forgetting her work. A lot of the paperwork my Mom does is online, which is what she does when she spend days and days over at my Grandma's place. She's there to watch her in case something happens, but she has a job to do too. Without internet access, it was going to be hard for her to stay as long. It also meant I and my sister might have to pick up the slack, which is fine.
The woman also showed us the rehab rooms. There were all the usual things that I had come to expect there, like stairs to practice walking on, and a fake kitchen for occupational therapy, and those big bouncy balls, and bikes and fake beds to practice getting in and out of. There were therapists and patients milling about. The walls were all painted pale yellow and green, and there were words of encouragement on the walls. There was a table on the side with lemonade on it, and I wanted to try some myself, just because I hadn't had anything to eat in so long.
The woman showed us a conference room, and said that every patient had a weekly conference with the doctors, nurses, therapists and family members.
"Sold," I thought. This was one of the many things that had made my Mom so mad about the last time my Grandma was in therapy. Inside, one of these conferences looked like it was going on right now. The woman led us away, back to the front offices.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Priority Number One
My Mom is out of town. This of course means that my Grandma got so sick we had to put her in the hospital.
I got a call from my Mom asking that my sister and I go to see her. My sister decided that she didn't want to go because she wanted to go see her boyfriend. She took the car. On the phone, I snapped at my Mom, yelling "I already told you! I can't go!" I was about to yell more things when she hung up on me. Then I was even more angry because my Mom hung up on me.
It made me so angry to see my sister, in her usual scrubs, watching tv. That's all she does when she's at home, other than the occasional homework. She's taking what she calls an easy summer class, and she can't be bothered to see her Grandma in the hospital because she needs to see her boyfriend. Not work on her homework. Her boyfriend. Priority number one.
There are a lot of reasons this upsets me. First off, my sister has not been to see my Grandma the entire five days or so she's been in the hospital, but I've been in several times. Secondly, she decided the boyfriend was more important. And lastly, she'll probably get away with it.
Sometimes I suspect my sister is given more leeway because of this boyfriend. When we're on trips, she always gets to talk on the phone for him to hours. I don't. I don't have a long term boyfriend, and I don't usually tell my Mom about my trysts because I don't consider them her business (also, because they immediately become the gossip of everyone who comes into our house for the next six months). My sister is allowed to bring him to family events, is allowed to hang out with him instead of doing stuff like helping with my Grandma. My family holds this hetero-centric, monogamy-centric ideal so high that it allows my sister to take advantage of it. It gets me angry sometimes. Like now, when it's my Grandma's birthday, and I can't see her because my sister has the car to visit her boyfriend and I'm stranded alone at home.
After my sister left, I went outside for a little, trying to work off my anger. It didn't really work. All I could think of is how selfish she is and how nobody seems to notice and how she takes advantage of this.
When she got home, my Mom made another upset call, this time to my Dad (who had finally come home) about moving my Grandma out of the hospital. At that point, it looked like my Grandma was going to be released the next day. She was apparently going to need some help getting home and then someone was going to have to stay with her for the night. I volunteered to help with both, though a second person would be needed to help with the moving her back to her apartment. When my Dad asked her about it, she said, sitting there, in front of the tv, again, that she was going to the park the next day and wouldn't help.
"Well, I can't do it," my Dad said. "I'm working."
My sister just repeated that she wouldn't do it.
Watching her, again, in terrible clothes, watching tv after coming home from seeing her boyfriend for five hours, too lazy to take harder classes, too lazy to do something with her life other than an occupation that she doesn't really care for and that is easier than others, too lazy to contribute all week when she's been asked to do so, made my blood boil. I wanted to punch her.
"Well, than we'll take care of it," I said, meaning my Father and I. Because apparently she wouldn't. I started walking out of the room. This conversation wasn't going anywhere.
My sister said something nasty in reply, but I was so angry, I can't remember what it was.
I got a call from my Mom asking that my sister and I go to see her. My sister decided that she didn't want to go because she wanted to go see her boyfriend. She took the car. On the phone, I snapped at my Mom, yelling "I already told you! I can't go!" I was about to yell more things when she hung up on me. Then I was even more angry because my Mom hung up on me.
It made me so angry to see my sister, in her usual scrubs, watching tv. That's all she does when she's at home, other than the occasional homework. She's taking what she calls an easy summer class, and she can't be bothered to see her Grandma in the hospital because she needs to see her boyfriend. Not work on her homework. Her boyfriend. Priority number one.
There are a lot of reasons this upsets me. First off, my sister has not been to see my Grandma the entire five days or so she's been in the hospital, but I've been in several times. Secondly, she decided the boyfriend was more important. And lastly, she'll probably get away with it.
Sometimes I suspect my sister is given more leeway because of this boyfriend. When we're on trips, she always gets to talk on the phone for him to hours. I don't. I don't have a long term boyfriend, and I don't usually tell my Mom about my trysts because I don't consider them her business (also, because they immediately become the gossip of everyone who comes into our house for the next six months). My sister is allowed to bring him to family events, is allowed to hang out with him instead of doing stuff like helping with my Grandma. My family holds this hetero-centric, monogamy-centric ideal so high that it allows my sister to take advantage of it. It gets me angry sometimes. Like now, when it's my Grandma's birthday, and I can't see her because my sister has the car to visit her boyfriend and I'm stranded alone at home.
After my sister left, I went outside for a little, trying to work off my anger. It didn't really work. All I could think of is how selfish she is and how nobody seems to notice and how she takes advantage of this.
When she got home, my Mom made another upset call, this time to my Dad (who had finally come home) about moving my Grandma out of the hospital. At that point, it looked like my Grandma was going to be released the next day. She was apparently going to need some help getting home and then someone was going to have to stay with her for the night. I volunteered to help with both, though a second person would be needed to help with the moving her back to her apartment. When my Dad asked her about it, she said, sitting there, in front of the tv, again, that she was going to the park the next day and wouldn't help.
"Well, I can't do it," my Dad said. "I'm working."
My sister just repeated that she wouldn't do it.
Watching her, again, in terrible clothes, watching tv after coming home from seeing her boyfriend for five hours, too lazy to take harder classes, too lazy to do something with her life other than an occupation that she doesn't really care for and that is easier than others, too lazy to contribute all week when she's been asked to do so, made my blood boil. I wanted to punch her.
"Well, than we'll take care of it," I said, meaning my Father and I. Because apparently she wouldn't. I started walking out of the room. This conversation wasn't going anywhere.
My sister said something nasty in reply, but I was so angry, I can't remember what it was.
Friday, July 9, 2010
This Chaos Could or Couldn't Work
Paul and I were walking out of this restaurant. We had spent the entire evening drinking.
As we drove home, we talked about him. Things are really rough with him. He failed a class last year and now he's gotten kicked out of the Honors College. He hasn't told him parents yet. There's no way that's not going to be bad. His mother will probably be angry. His Dad will go nuts on him.
"If you need to, I can probably arrange it so that you can come sleep at my house," I said.
"Thanks."
We talked about music. I told him that I liked this new indie thing, but that I still loved some good rock and roll.
Admitting this is a big deal for me, because for years I've been trying not to get sucked in. I think part of my reservation was that it came in and swept great rock aside, and I missed that. I think the other thing was Dan. Dan loves it so much, and despite loving Dan, I was suspicious of it.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize I should love it. The aesthetic encourages the annihilation of gender. It allows guys to be more gentle and show when they're sad. It allows both some aspects of hard rock and more mellow music. I logically, given my own musical history, love it.
I'm still a little reluctant about some things, like the hardcore who bash everything else in comparison to it. But that's a small group, and well, I would ignore them for other reasons.
When I got home, I said goodbye to Paul. I was sorry we had to end the night early, but it turned out to be a good thing, because when I got in, my Mom asked me if I could go babysit my Grandma in the morning and early afternoon. I said sure, but that I wanted to spend the afternoon in the library. Deal.
Then I went to check my email. There's a ton of stuff going on. Jennifer is going back to Lansing, would I like to come along?
I've been invited back up next week, and I want to go, but right before that I have a party in Ann Arbor that I a maybe attending. If I go to the party in Ann Arbor (which I really want to go to), then I won't be able to hop that ride with Jenn. On the other hand, it looks like my family is going to be in chaos next week because my Mom is going to a business conference, and whenever that happens, it's craziness. This chaos could work for or against me. If my sister takes the car and disappears, then I'll be out of luck. If my Dad is looking for any excuse to get out of town, he'll be more than happy for me to give it to him. So, maybe.
When it rains it pours, etc.
I also got an email from Ashley. That lucky girl is in China and writing me emails from her trip. (She's out there to learn Chinese.) She told me all about her latest adventures, including going to a mosque. I've sent back a bunch of questions asking about it, because I was under the impression that China was not into religion.
And then I did the whole lay down and try to sleep thing. Again, no luck. I was hoping the alcohol I had would make me more sleepy, since I've been told that's one of the things it does, but no. I laid in bed for hours without much luck. Bah.
I fell asleep sometime around five. My alarm rang at eight. I was suppose to get up for Grandma, but I totally didn't get up. Maybe I would be lucky and my Mom wouldn't wake me?
As we drove home, we talked about him. Things are really rough with him. He failed a class last year and now he's gotten kicked out of the Honors College. He hasn't told him parents yet. There's no way that's not going to be bad. His mother will probably be angry. His Dad will go nuts on him.
"If you need to, I can probably arrange it so that you can come sleep at my house," I said.
"Thanks."
We talked about music. I told him that I liked this new indie thing, but that I still loved some good rock and roll.
Admitting this is a big deal for me, because for years I've been trying not to get sucked in. I think part of my reservation was that it came in and swept great rock aside, and I missed that. I think the other thing was Dan. Dan loves it so much, and despite loving Dan, I was suspicious of it.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize I should love it. The aesthetic encourages the annihilation of gender. It allows guys to be more gentle and show when they're sad. It allows both some aspects of hard rock and more mellow music. I logically, given my own musical history, love it.
I'm still a little reluctant about some things, like the hardcore who bash everything else in comparison to it. But that's a small group, and well, I would ignore them for other reasons.
When I got home, I said goodbye to Paul. I was sorry we had to end the night early, but it turned out to be a good thing, because when I got in, my Mom asked me if I could go babysit my Grandma in the morning and early afternoon. I said sure, but that I wanted to spend the afternoon in the library. Deal.
Then I went to check my email. There's a ton of stuff going on. Jennifer is going back to Lansing, would I like to come along?
I've been invited back up next week, and I want to go, but right before that I have a party in Ann Arbor that I a maybe attending. If I go to the party in Ann Arbor (which I really want to go to), then I won't be able to hop that ride with Jenn. On the other hand, it looks like my family is going to be in chaos next week because my Mom is going to a business conference, and whenever that happens, it's craziness. This chaos could work for or against me. If my sister takes the car and disappears, then I'll be out of luck. If my Dad is looking for any excuse to get out of town, he'll be more than happy for me to give it to him. So, maybe.
When it rains it pours, etc.
I also got an email from Ashley. That lucky girl is in China and writing me emails from her trip. (She's out there to learn Chinese.) She told me all about her latest adventures, including going to a mosque. I've sent back a bunch of questions asking about it, because I was under the impression that China was not into religion.
And then I did the whole lay down and try to sleep thing. Again, no luck. I was hoping the alcohol I had would make me more sleepy, since I've been told that's one of the things it does, but no. I laid in bed for hours without much luck. Bah.
I fell asleep sometime around five. My alarm rang at eight. I was suppose to get up for Grandma, but I totally didn't get up. Maybe I would be lucky and my Mom wouldn't wake me?
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Power Down pt. 2
I sat and cut out coupons today. It's the first time I've done so in years, and it was enlightening.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
Friday, June 25, 2010
They Don't Pay Me Enough to Do This
My Mom, among other things, runs her own business. This apparently means that I am required to help out with it. Not my sister or Dad, of course, but me.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
Luckily, my Mom had other tasks for me. I found myself more than happy to do those. I stuffed more envelopes and switched to Doctor Who, which was showing the finale to season three. I love Doctor Who, and my favorite companion (so far!) is Martha, so this cheered my up considerably.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Souring
On the way home this afternoon from visiting my Grandma, my Mom carried on and on about her busy week and how I need to help her. I don't know why, but I'm already bored to tears listening about her plans for this week, and it's only Tuesday. I just wanted to listen to some dance music and think. Maybe it was my strange dream last night, but I guess I've been irritable and less than patient with everyone today.
Maybe everyone else around me sensed my bad mood, because I've been left alone for the last few hours as I work on some writing and blogging like this.
Maybe everyone else around me sensed my bad mood, because I've been left alone for the last few hours as I work on some writing and blogging like this.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Steal
Truth: I don't really like malls. Or shopping. I still have issues with clothes. (Why don't they ever fit right? Why are they all made for the super skinny? Why do I have to dress the same way? Why do stores all sell so much of the same stuff?)
So going to the mall today with some of my friends was sort of a different thing for me. Obviously, I was going so I could chill with them. They're all much bigger shoppers than I am. I don't even remember the last time I was in a mall or out shopping. Last summer probably, but I can't even remember. Oh! Now I know: I went out in May 2009 to help my sister look for a graduation dress. I bought a dress for the Honors College Ball (one I looked amazing in) and bought two other dresses, and my sister didn't get anything, because if there's anything I've learned about shopping, it's the person who's not looking for something who finds exactly what they've been looking for.
First, we went into this store that sells accessories. I started looking through stuff. I found this great top hat decorated with red lace ribbon. Ever since my steampunk convention a few weeks back, I have been on the lookout for cool steampunk wear. I could totally use something like this, even though I already have an (artfully battered) steampunk hat with gray ribbon.
I try not to be an impulse buyer. I try to talk myself out of at least 75 percent of my purchases. I talked myself out of this one.
Meanwhile, Tori and Natasha were inspecting vampire stuff. "What's this?" Tori asked, holding up a journal with a design from the Vampire Diaries.
"The Vampire Diaries," I explained, thinking that was enough.
"True Blood?"
"No, that's a different show."
"Wait, in addition to Twilight and True Blood there's another vampire thing?"
I decided not to mention Buffy or Interview with a Vampire or Anita Blake. Might not go over well.
We walked down to a store that sold body lotions. We walked in. "I have a headache," I said thirty seconds later. Natasha heard me and laughed. It was actually not that bad, but my Mom cannot handle those places at all. She's very headache-sensitive.
We looked through things, and I smelled some of the testers. I kind of hate it when things are described as Midnight Rendezvous or April Showers, because I always think "What does that smell like?" With something like Strawberry Sorbet it's like, sure, it's meant to smell like strawberries. At least if it doesn't smell like whatever, you can still be like "Oh, well, at least they achieved a general fruity thing."
Madison picked up this massive brush and hit me with it and it hurt. I thought about Josie and pervertables. She'd love to hear about this.
We then went into an actual clothing store. While Madison was looking around, I went into the boy's section. I really love guy's clothing, and a year and a half ago, I promised myself I would start wearing stuff I liked, regardless of where it came from (unless it was from a store that sexually abuses its employees. I'm not supporting that.) I'm a big fan of plaid shirts (or plaid anything, really.) This isn't the right weather for it, but I looked through. And then I saw this bag on the ground.
When I went to that convention, I was really sorry I didn't have a better bag (I had just opted to take my handy-dandy goes anywhere black purse). I had wished I had a canvas bag and there one was. Like God had heard me thinking about it and asked my Dad if he had one, and then decided to send me to the mall and a store I about never go into.
I picked it up. It was a decent size, which was what I wanted. It was a messenger bag, like I wanted. It didn't have holes or tears. Good, good...and I looked at the price.
7.99.
It was cheap. A bag like this is a minimum 20, sometimes 30. How the heck...?
Well, obviously, I had to get it. And then, as the clerk was ringing me up, she was like "Oh, it's on sale, plus you get another 20 percent off. 5.49."
5.49? Sold!
I showed it to everyone and they were all impressed. 5.49 for a nice big bag like that?
I'm the kind of person who buys something and then instantly regrets it. I keep expecting it to happen with this bag. I keep opening it expecting a giant spider to come out and chew my arm off. To be fair, it's a little awkwardly designed. If I was making this bag, I'd order different clasps and shoulder strap, but it's really the right look.
Hilariously enough, of all my friends, I was the only person who bought something today. See what I mean? When you're not looking for something, it finds you.
So going to the mall today with some of my friends was sort of a different thing for me. Obviously, I was going so I could chill with them. They're all much bigger shoppers than I am. I don't even remember the last time I was in a mall or out shopping. Last summer probably, but I can't even remember. Oh! Now I know: I went out in May 2009 to help my sister look for a graduation dress. I bought a dress for the Honors College Ball (one I looked amazing in) and bought two other dresses, and my sister didn't get anything, because if there's anything I've learned about shopping, it's the person who's not looking for something who finds exactly what they've been looking for.
First, we went into this store that sells accessories. I started looking through stuff. I found this great top hat decorated with red lace ribbon. Ever since my steampunk convention a few weeks back, I have been on the lookout for cool steampunk wear. I could totally use something like this, even though I already have an (artfully battered) steampunk hat with gray ribbon.
I try not to be an impulse buyer. I try to talk myself out of at least 75 percent of my purchases. I talked myself out of this one.
"The Vampire Diaries," I explained, thinking that was enough.
"True Blood?"
"No, that's a different show."
"Wait, in addition to Twilight and True Blood there's another vampire thing?"
I decided not to mention Buffy or Interview with a Vampire or Anita Blake. Might not go over well.
We walked down to a store that sold body lotions. We walked in. "I have a headache," I said thirty seconds later. Natasha heard me and laughed. It was actually not that bad, but my Mom cannot handle those places at all. She's very headache-sensitive.
We looked through things, and I smelled some of the testers. I kind of hate it when things are described as Midnight Rendezvous or April Showers, because I always think "What does that smell like?" With something like Strawberry Sorbet it's like, sure, it's meant to smell like strawberries. At least if it doesn't smell like whatever, you can still be like "Oh, well, at least they achieved a general fruity thing."
Madison picked up this massive brush and hit me with it and it hurt. I thought about Josie and pervertables. She'd love to hear about this.
We then went into an actual clothing store. While Madison was looking around, I went into the boy's section. I really love guy's clothing, and a year and a half ago, I promised myself I would start wearing stuff I liked, regardless of where it came from (unless it was from a store that sexually abuses its employees. I'm not supporting that.) I'm a big fan of plaid shirts (or plaid anything, really.) This isn't the right weather for it, but I looked through. And then I saw this bag on the ground.
When I went to that convention, I was really sorry I didn't have a better bag (I had just opted to take my handy-dandy goes anywhere black purse). I had wished I had a canvas bag and there one was. Like God had heard me thinking about it and asked my Dad if he had one, and then decided to send me to the mall and a store I about never go into.
I picked it up. It was a decent size, which was what I wanted. It was a messenger bag, like I wanted. It didn't have holes or tears. Good, good...and I looked at the price.
7.99.
It was cheap. A bag like this is a minimum 20, sometimes 30. How the heck...?
Well, obviously, I had to get it. And then, as the clerk was ringing me up, she was like "Oh, it's on sale, plus you get another 20 percent off. 5.49."
5.49? Sold!
I showed it to everyone and they were all impressed. 5.49 for a nice big bag like that?
I'm the kind of person who buys something and then instantly regrets it. I keep expecting it to happen with this bag. I keep opening it expecting a giant spider to come out and chew my arm off. To be fair, it's a little awkwardly designed. If I was making this bag, I'd order different clasps and shoulder strap, but it's really the right look.
Hilariously enough, of all my friends, I was the only person who bought something today. See what I mean? When you're not looking for something, it finds you.
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