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Friday, June 12, 2009

I fed some lemon to my cat and now I have a sour puss.

The Boy dearly misses Kansas. It's so sad, he was writing about her in his schoolwork and everything. Oh, the pain in my heart!

I finally convinced The Man to consider adopting another cat. The condition being that I get to pick the cat this time. Because his cats are crazy, and mine are chill.

Introducing Baby. Or, to use the full name The Boy has granted, Baby Diamond [Our Last Name]. She is the best cat ever. Three years old, totally calm and cuddly, and she doesn't have a fetish for electrocution.


Thursday, June 11, 2009

Turns out that bacon is the devil.

I once expressed my love for crows once, but I have now seen the truth. Bacon is trying to take over the world. Here is my proof:

Baconnaise
Bacon Chapstick
Bacon Chocolate
Bacon Vodka

Panic in the Produce Aisle

A few weeks ago I thought it would be a good idea to stop taking my medication. Why? I don't know. Apparently, the voices in my head decide stuff and I have no control over their decisions. It's a democracy up there. Anyway, I've mentioned before, but a recap of the purpose of the meds is that they cover quite a slew of maladies (i.e., depression, OCD, anxiety, etc.).

About three weeks in, I'm due for a panic attack. And where else shall I have one, but the grocery store? Of course I'm there with The Boy by myself.

Suddenly, and I will spare all of us the gory details, mostly because I don't want to think about it and as I type this I can feel myself being unable to breath and starting to itch, I start to FREAK OUT. Right there, next to the bagged lettuce and baby carrots. I got really light-headed, due in part to the not breathing well. I got extremely irritated, and had to bite my tongue to control the words coming out of my mouth so that I did not snap at The Boy for never pausing to breath in between paragraphs. I can handle the inescapable noise that occurs in the grocery store, but The Boy's words are loud and clear, he expects a response, a normal human response, not someone biting his head off for no reason. I can't remember a word the poor kid said, but I did not snap at him (yay me!).

We get home and I unload the groceries after I set The Boy up in front of the TV (I know it's not the best option, what were my other choices at the time, really?), and then I proceed to wash my hands and face in scalding hot water an odd number of times until my hands are cracked and stinging. I finally felt clean, the itch faded away, and the irritation melted. Sigh of relief. All better.

I immediately call in a refill for my prescription.

A couple of weeks later, I have been on my medication for about a week. We are all at the grocery store, but The Man and The Boy are playing in the toy aisles while I shop. I enter the produce area. And AGAIN, I cannot breathe and I feel itchy everywhere. I call The Man. No answer. I text him. No response. I call him two more time. Nothing. I push the cart out of the produce aisle and feel like that helps a little bit. Finally, The Man comes around the corner. Of course I do not control myself and I flip out, telling him he never answers his phone when I call, and where was he when I needed him?!? Of course he had no idea this would happen. Really, I don't know why he willingly chooses to stay married to me. I swear, he is not a hostage, he is here of his own free will.

I am recapping all of this for My Person one night and she says it's just a "thing" now in my brain, and we need to erase the bad memories and replace them with a good memory. So she and I head over to Raley's and go to the produce section. I show her the stuff that bothered me and she shows me non-creepy produce. I don't need anything, but she decides she needs blueberries and garlic. I proudly carry her produce to the checkout counter, a successful transaction is made, and we leave with the produce. The entire time, we are laughing hysterically at how preposterous it is to have to do this at all. But that is exactly what I needed.

I am happy to say that I can now purchase produce on my own.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The man who expects nothing shall never be disappointed.

Following is the main course of insanity that I was served along with this lunacy appetizer. Save room for the marvelous madness dessert that is sure to come.

All of that stuff happened on Monday and Tuesday last week, which brings us to last Wednesday. I couldn't get an appointment with the therapist until Monday of this week.

At the end of the day on Wednesday, my dad calls me into the conference room. He asks if I've done the assignment, I say yes. He asks if I feel I've been completely honest, I say yes. Then I said, before we go over it...he interrupts me.

"I never planned on looking at it." He says.

"Oh. Well yesterday you said to be honest and not to fluff it up because you were going to be looking at it. And you said we would be meeting today to go over it." Is my reply.

"Well...it was never my intention to look at it." Um, okay?

"Okay. Anyway," I start again, "Before we go any further, I have to tell you that The Man does not agree with this exercise, he feels that you have stepped over a boundary, and I don't know what to think. So we're going to see our therapist on Monday to talk about it."

Pause here. My parents are always saying that I am not submissive enough to my husband. The Man and I do not agree with my parents' model of marriage and he and I are both okay with our relationship. Again, it's not really any of their business. But because of this thinking of theirs, I really thought my dad would be proud of me for at least giving consideration to something The Man said. Not so much.

"WELL," he glares at me and starts this head swagger like an overly dramatic diva who has just been denied access into a swanky club and with this nasty tone, he spits out, "There are things that, not just you, but other people, do that affect your mother and I and that crosses boundaries, and I need to address those! And you can tell your therapist..."

Pause again. Okay, if that's how you feel, fine. But address the issues with the people WHEN they arise! Don't let it fester until you explode over some random thing. And looking back over the last year of working for you, I can see nothing that I have done to rock the boat. I have worked my ass off for you and your company, being the circle peg instead of the square peg. Taking no vacation days, no sick days, etc. It's not my fault that you choose to ignore problems and then fly off the handle. Take out your frustration with the proper people at the time the concern transpires. Including me, because now I feel totally in the dark about anything I may have done to agitate you.

It's my turn to interrupt. "Hey," I declare, firm but calm, "You don't need to speak to me this way. I am merely relaying a message from my husband and getting an unbiased third party opinion."

"Fine. I think we're done here." The response is cold.

"Okay." I get up and go back to my office and go back to work.

Wednesday work day was almost over. Oh yeah, my brother came into the office for an entire half day on Wednesday. Apparently he couldn't drag himself back to the office after lunch. On Thursday and Friday, my brother and my dad are both out of the office. My brother is "sick" again, and I am assuming my dad was avoiding me. We had school functions for The Boy on Thursday and Friday that my dad was planning to attend. Of course he did not, but I was thankful. I did not want it to be awkward. My mom came to one of the events that I have a side story about, I'll tell you later. And no worries about awkwardness with my mom; denial and ignoring stuff are her super powers.

The therapy appointment on Monday. I am nervous. My Person asks why, what is the worst that could happen. I said I'm afraid he is going to tell me it is unhealthy for me to continue working in this environment. She says it probably is unhealthy, but even if he does say that, it is just information, and I don't have to do anything with the information until I'm ready. I feel better.

I recap what has happened and I would say he was surprised. But he says my expectations of my dad are unsuitable for the reality of the situation. My expectation is that my dad is going to run the office like a professional. My expectation SHOULD be what is actually true, which is that he runs the office like the patriarch of some cult, like a crazy person. He is using his emotions to lead his actions, which is ironic because my dad speaks against that exact thing, as though it were some sort of incurable, life threatening disease, and here he is doing it. He tells me they were totally planning on looking at the chart, and that handing it over to them (which I did not) would have been like handing someone bullets they were going to use to shoot me. We discuss how to have proper expectations moving forward. We discuss how to handle this current situation, which is to do what my parents model and ignore. Pretend that it never happened. IF they chose to bring it up again, I say, thank you for the assignment, I will be holding on to it, and I hope we can move on from this. At which time he is sure that everyone involved will continue on as though nothing every happened. That's also what The Man said, btw. He's so smart.

I ask if it is in fact harmful for me to continue working there. He says as long as I have the correct expectations, that it's not damaging. I need to weigh out the positives against the negatives, decide if it's worth it, and just be aware of reality. Don't settle into a false sense of security. I can handle that.

SO, both my brother and my dad are out of the office again on Monday. It is so laughable at this point. My brother has some two hundred clients on his account and they are totally aware of what is going on at this point. "Does he really work there?" and people getting frustrated with his absence are some of the things we have to deal with while he is AWOL.

My brother came into the office on Tuesday, and was in some kind of mood. None of us understood. Dude, you haven't worked a full day in over a week, what's with the mood?!? And do I have to say it? He was out of the office today, too.

My dad was in the office on Tuesday and today.

And guess what? Not a word.

I swear we do educational things with him during summer break.

Ahhh, the joys of spending part of your summer vacation at Mom and Dad's office.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I think she meant "We'll be retarded."

This is how unbelievably immature my SIL is. She takes all these quizzes on MySpace and Facebook, and I don't even read them but other people we both know read them and then tell me how ridiculous her answers are. For example:

Question: Last time you had sex?
Her Answer: inappropriate

Seriously? You are married. It's not asking what position it was. You are pregnant, everyone knows how you got that way!

That's not even the worst one. And oh yeah, She uses lol everywhere and it drives me insane. You're not laughing out loud.

Question: What is one thing your spouse does that gets on your nerves?
Her Answer: lol... um i dunno.. he knows he leaves cans everywhere but it doesnt get on my nerves

You are mentioning it because it gets on your nerves, in which case you should just say that, or don't bother saying anything at all.

Finally, the inspiration for the post title:

Question: Where do you see yourself in 15 years?
Her Answer: old.. lol jk um lets see I'll be 38 in 15 years and He will be 42. Hopefully we'll be retired.

Square Peg, Round Hole


Much has been going on, where shall I start? The beginning I suppose.

My brother moved back from out of state at the end of last year. I had super mixed feelings about it to say the least (you can read about the beginning of why here). After he and his wife moved here, we had a family meeting, and I informed him that I did not hate him and he said he wouldn't blame me if I did. It was a very mature conversation, and I left feeling surprisingly confident about the future. Of course there was still no trust. But hope.

Things were going well. Everyone was working and working well together. My dad, mom, husband, brother, sister-in-law, family friend, and two employees. In a very small office. Then we get to the middle of May, about six months into All Goes Well. Then this happened and this too. Basically, my brother has been out "sick" one day a week for about the last two months. Just for one day and then he has a miraculous recovery. Then he was out "sick" for one entire week, came back for three days after the Memorial Day three day weekend, called in sick the Friday of that week, and then called in "sick" again for the entire next week. At the end of that week, wifey came in and said he has "smoker's flu" which I promptly Googled and search results produced this: YOUR BROTHER IS FULL OF SHIT.

Oh yeah, and my dad is totally not acknowledging that any of this is happening. Everyone else in the office is totally pissed and talking about it, as we all have to pick up the slack for the work he is not doing, something that nobody has time to do. Nothing is being said to my brother or us about how this will be addressed and how it is not acceptable. So of course he will keep doing it - he's getting paid for staying home and being lazy! He's the smart one, we're all the idiots because apparently we too can get paid for staying home. The difference is that we would never do that.

And the lack of concern by my parents regarding his health just proves that they do not believe that he is sick. If my kid was sick for three weeks straight, you bet your ass I would be worried sick and get involved in trying to help him. And when I asked his wife why he wasn't seeking medical attention, she said they don't have health insurance and cannot afford to go to the doctor. Okay, fair enough, but don't then turn around and in one weekend take your dog to the vet and purchase an entire maternity wardrobe, and for goodness' sakes, stop eating fast food for every meal!

Early last week, before the fake diagnosis came up, I said to my sister-in-law, he's not really sick stop covering for him, and it started this entire drama with her because she is so blindly in love with him that she would believe that the moon was actually made of blue cheese if he told her it was true. She is in her early twenties but acts like those tweeners on Maury who say they want to have their boyfriends' babies and they are ready to be adults, all the while wearing a pink unicorn shirt and braided pigtails. P.S. she is pregnant and he doesn't want children. I rest my case. Anyway, what came out is that she thinks I hate her, which I don't, even though that one post I wrote said I did (she doesn't read it, btw). Also, she is lonely here and has no friends (she never goes anywhere, I shared with her the magical concept of socializing). I explained to her that she is the only portal to him because HE IS NEVER HERE. And unfortunately when a couple works together, what one does reflects on the other. That might not be fair, but it is the unfortunate truth. I apologized for putting her in the middle, I also said that it is not my place to say anything since it is technically not my company, but I told her that everyone is so angry and frustrated. She said she understood, we kissed and made up (metaphorically, I don't like her that much), and everything was cool between us. As cool as it can be anyway for sister-in-laws with nothing in common.

This was all done in the conference room. We come out and my dad sees us and calls me over to his desk and asks what's going on. I told him that I said something to her about my brother being gone but that we worked it out and I apologized for putting her in the middle. He said okay and it was over, or so I thought.

Next day, I get called into the conference room by my parents. I'm not really thinking anything of it, this happens on occasion to discuss money or other confidential business issues. I sit down and my dad hits me with this speech about don't I want to be a better person, a person who can control herself and her words in order to spare other people's feelings. I'm like what? Are you serious? What I actually said was that I think you should be honest with people and not worry about their feelings. Of course there are boundaries for that, i.e., there's no need to walk up to a complete stranger and tell them they need to wax their uni-brow. But if there is an issue that is affecting my family and my business, then you better believe I'm going to say something. WELL, you'd think I just told them that I eat babies for fun from the looks of shock on their faces. And seriously, DID THEY JUST MEET ME? Am I not their daughter, that THEY raised? They really don't know me at all! Unbelievable.

So they go on and say how this is just childish and so they have an "Exercise of Parenting an Adult Child" (FYI, I'm 30) for me to complete. I am to go back to my office and create a chart. On the side I am to list the names of all of the people in my life (everyone at work, The Boy, and My Person). On the top I am to make the following column headers: Church, Health, Finances, Social, Job. Then I am to fill in the squares with my expectations for each person under each category. And I am told to be completely honest and not to fluff it up just because they will be looking at it. I am informed that we will meet again tomorrow

Oooookaaaaayyyyy. I go back to my office and shut the door and tell my office mate, Cupcake, and we are laughing about how absolutely ABSURD this is. I start doing the chart and I call The Man in to ask for his opinion about one of the squares and he is like, what in the hell are you doing. So I explain to him what happened in the conference room and the assignment and he is LIV.ID. He says this is sick and wrong and I should not be doing it. I'm like okay dude, calm down. I explained what our therapist told me when I started working for my dad, which is that my dad has a square hole that he believes I should fit into, and I am a circle peg. So I was just going to do the exercise for them and move on with life. He is having none of it. He says to call My Person RIGHT NOW and ask what she thinks.

I get My Person on the phone and she agrees with The Man that it is disturbing and that I don't have to do it. But she says don't just not do it because The Man tells me not to or he's no better than they are for bossing me. So I tell The Man, okay, My Person agrees with you on the weirdness. I am going to compromise and say that I will meet with our therapist to discuss how to proceed, and I will tell my parents that I am going to wait to chat about the chart until after I have consulted with an unbiased third party.

I'll let all of this soak in for a day before I tell you the rest of the story.

Monday, June 8, 2009

So Fresh and So Clean

Time for a change. I loooooved the blog design that Beth's blog design company created for me. The HTML code is saved in word should I decide to go back to it. I kept the header that she created (I hope that's okay). Also, I would have gone back to her for another blog design, except for that I cannot afford it. I went in search of a free one.

I came across Pyzam, which offers layouts for Blogger, as well as MySpace, hi5, and Friendster (as though I know what the last two are). After much searching, both on the site and of the soul, I settled on this design. The color is pleasing to the eyes, mine at least, and the butterflies and swirlies represent the freedom I wish I felt.

And The Moral of The Story Is...

So I read this blog and I was telling The Man about it at dinner, but I can't remember whose blog it was, which is why I'm not linking to it. The way this dad told the story about his kid was hilarious and my summary does it absolutely no justice.

Anyway, we are sitting at the dinner table, and I tell The Man the following story, trying my hardest to not ruin The Tooth Fairy for The Boy. I read this daddy blog today and the dad goes to school to pick up his kid. His child lost a tooth at school, so they took it home and put it under the pillow for the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy put two dollars under the pillow and the next morning the boy showed his dad the money. Dad suggested putting it in his bank in his room, but the boy gave it to his dad and said, "Now I only owe you eleven dollars for my DS game." After the boy had left for school, the dad went into his room and put the money in his bank.

Totally sweet. I love it. What's the moral? The Boy will tell you.

After the telling of the story, The Boy ponders aloud, "I wonder what kind of DS game it was."