Friday, February 24, 2006
Just talking to my Bitch Petey on the phone, he THOUGHT I said “Todays K’s lesbian rain day.” What I SAID was “Todays K’s last day of training.” Then we both laughed and he said something about not really knowing and that it just made him wonder what K was doing with the Stonewall Democrats these days to which I responded “Well it is raining today, ya never know.”
As I did the dishes I could hear Cabbage Patch busily moving her small kid sized furniture around and each of my inquirers as to WHAT she was doing were answered with “Playing!”
After dishes were safely in the dishwasher (and not in a blazing pile on the front porch with me standing to the side roasting marshmallows as my gut instinct suggested I do) I walked into the living room to see Cabbage Patch in a ballet leotard jumping from her table to a chair with stuffed animals placed on the floor around her like her audience. I cringed and told her to STOP IT NOW.
I truly don’t understand why her father dislikes me referring to her as a crazy circus midget.
No Really, He’s Not A Jewish Mother
No one can guilt me quite like my father. I absolutely love but I completely dread his phone calls. And sadly I actively avoid them. (Actually I actively avoid phone calls from MOST of my family, but Dad is at the top of this esteemed list.) And that makes the guilt that much worse. By the time I DO take his phone call or break down and call him, it’s been a year and I realize that I’ve not called him for Father’s day… and his birthday… and the holidays… and that I really, really suck. Though I do have good reasons to NOT call, mostly it’s the GUILT (even when I was a frequent caller, the guilt was laid on pretty thick) and the fact that he can hardly hear me! I know that I speak softly but this man is nearly DEAF! So why call??? (Oh stop glaring at me, when was the last time you talked to your dad?)
This is part of how our last conversation went:
*ring!* *ring!* *ring!*
Him: Hi Judy…
Me: Hi Daddy!
Him: it’s daddy. I haven’t heard from you in a while...
Me: *cringing from the guilt*
Him: I just thought I’d call and see how everybody was, since you never call…
Me: *shrinking down in chair from guilt* we are find daddy.
Me: *speaking louder* WE ARE FINE DADDY!
Him: Ahhh… okay, well I was just wondering, ‘cuz you never call…
Me: *rolling eyes* Yes, yes, I know. Terribly busy, ya know.
Me: SORRY, BEEN BUSY!
Him: Yeah, yeah, I been busy. Your sister and her husband are getting their own house and moving out the end of this week.
Me: FINALLY! *they’ve lived off my dad for the past 10 years! It’s time they and their evil children moved the fuck out!*
Me: *shouting into the phone* I SAID THAT’S GOOD!
Him: Oh yeah it’s good. About time they got out of my house. I’m disabled after all!...
Me: *snickering as he rambles on*
Him: *after 45 minutes of droning on about the family and his awful wife* So I just wanted to call because you never call.
Me: *ugh! Not the guilt!* Sorry! Sorry about that! I just don’t call because you can never hear me!
Me: *shouting and cupping the phone to muffle any outside noise* I SAID, I DON’T CALL BECAUSE YOU CAN NEVER HEAR ME!
Him: Oh, I can hear you fine.
Me: *slamming phone into forehead* I LOVE YOU DADDY!
Him: I love you too baby. Bye-bye.
I love him, but damn it’s exhausting to talk to him. What with all the avoidance I do, the actually CONVERSATION is excruciating. I’d e-mail him but my daddy has a really bad habit of replying to all of my e-mails with “I love you, love daddy”.
Anyway, I should be guilt free from him for at least another 6 months.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Reports Of My Death Are Greatly Exaggerated!
How could you leave me? Really HOW? I know I didn’t get you a fancy Valentine or a huge box of chocolates, but you KNOW I love you… I NEED you. You KNOW I need you! In the middle of the night who do I go to when I can’t sleep? First thing in the morning where do I go before even getting coffee? You internet! YOU! And yet you STILL left me.
I was angry at first then sad. Sad and lonely. After my cursing and stomping and checking all the usual places for you, I just lie on the sofa rejected and empty. I couldn’t even move. A whole day and a half. You left me for a whole day and a half! It got to be sort of funny when I’d talk to someone about something and where I’d say “I’ll check the internet” I’d just leave blank and unsaid… a hole in the conversation. A great chasm that just taunted me like your leaving taunted me.
You hurt me internet, you hurt me bad. Things piled up while I pined for you. Yes I TRIED to distract myself, but it was you who I was thinking about.
I called the number I had for you and guess what? I found out you were in a foreign country! I could not believe it! I spoke to a man who said his name was ‘Richard’ but I know that was just bull; he just wanted me to THINK you were still in the
K and I talked when he got home and I explained my anguish and your stubborn refusal to return to me at all, to even talk to me on the phone. He assured me it was a mistake, just a misunderstanding and that he would straighten it out for me. I worried because you were in another country – I could even imagine you sitting on pillows, smoking a hookah and eating the spiciest of curries – I worried that it would take time to get you back. K was sure you’d be back the next day. But I fretted. I went to the store and got a bag of Double Chocolate Hershey’s Kisses for you. It was the least I could do.
True to his word K called and smoothed things over with you. And as soon as you were back here with me I curled up with you for the next two hours and caught up on what had been missed.
I love you internet. Don’t leave me again. I’ll have to hurt you if you do. Don’t leave. Ever.
*Ahem* What really happened… My internet went down one day and after waiting on hold and being transferred from person to person, I was finally connected to a man we’ll call ‘Richard’ because that’s what he SAID his name was though I had serious doubts that it really was ‘Richard’ as I heard a distinct Indian accent as he spoke and could almost smell the curry over the phone. ‘Richard’ told me that K would need to call and straighten out the account then transferred me to some twangy woman who brought forth images of huge bleached blond hair sprayed so stiff a tornado couldn’t move it and frosted blue eye shadow circa 1970 – and originally from 1970, and a trailer of which her lovely shrill voice would echo through out as she summoned one of her many offspring to bring her a ‘cold one’. This person was stupid and bitchy and argued with me which made me react with dignity and grace and to tell her to fuck off then call her a cunt. This ended the negotiations until K got home.
K called the next morning and handled things… He didn’t even call anyone a cunt to have it done. No I didn’t lie on the couch and pine for the internet, I did the crap I always do – clean house and fold laundry. But that doesn’t sound as dramatic or interesting – and I had nothing to distract me when the offspring were watching one of the Disney abominations they love to watch. I’m back now, I can read the news and I’m happy. Back to cleaning.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Try it for yourself, it only takes a minute. (then post your answers)
Her: You can’t watch that movie again.
Me: Yes I can.
Her: Dere’s a new movie, called “May I Touch That”.
Me: Are you sure that’s the name?
Her: Uh-huh, it’s about a boy and a skunk.
Me: Ahhh, are you sure that’s a movie?
Her: Dere’s another movie. It’s called “Are We Dere Yet?”
Me: Oh really? And what’s that about?
Her: It’s about a brown man.
Her: Yeah and a brown boy.
Me: I think you are just making that up.
Her: No! The mice are in it!
I’m sick again… FUCKING AGAIN. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever get well. Maybe the government is conducting secret experiments on me. Eh. Who knows. At any rate, I took Nyquil Saturday night in an attempt to get a decent nights sleep. Well let me tell you THAT was a mistake. Apparently my love affair with Nyquil is OVER. I no longer get a nice near coma like sleep from Nyquil, oh no. I get a serious head trip. I have very bizarre dreams and wake several times a night with a head full of crazy images. I woke at 2:30 am and was startled by the fact that my cat was on the bed next to me… where she always sleeps. I remember having this strong urge to BLOG all the medication induced images and that the only reason I didn’t was because I wasn’t sure I could type so well. I am thankful to whatever power prevented me from blogging that as I’m certain that I would be committed at this very moment if I had. Also, such SPECIAL dreams are not something that need to be committed to memory any more than just the fuzzy vagueness that they are NOW.
Last night I had this very vivid dream of walking around at night with this guy I am interested in, we were walking around his apartment complex and we were picking up coins off the ground. We walked up some stairs where we kissed, then went back to picking up coins. What the fuck? I’m thinking it’s the last of the Nyquil getting out of my system.
Yesterday was Super Girl’s 7th birthday party. Mother Nature has a cruel sense of humor when it comes to that kid’s birthday parties. All of her parties, save one have had sudden BAD weather either cancel them or diminish the amount of guest who show up. One year a freak cold storm had everyone showing up in heavy coats and scarves for a Luau themed birthday party, another year the trip to the lake to feed the ducks was canceled for the same reason, the next brought SNOW the day of the party and we all know that if it snows in Dallas, every freaking thing closes, so no party. This year the temperatures dropped and the weather predicted ice – which didn’t really happen but the THREAT was enough to only bring out the most loyal of friends. No matter Super Girl had a BLAST! At one point Captain John had 4 little girls chasing him around with plastic swords. Everyone had a most fabulous time despite the fact that NONE of Super Girl’s classmates attended (the RUDEST part was that NONE of the parents called to say the wouldn’t be there! Jerks!). Kudos to Captain John and The Wife for all their work and for letting the party happen there.
Okay off to get dressed, just realized I sounded like a total hypocrite telling Cabbage Patch to get dressed when I’m not even dressed.