The bags are mostly packed, tomorrow is the day. Going to see my dad after 15 years. I've been trying to remember all the good. Things are hard, he is so distant and I am used to warm and easy camaraderie. But he is my dad, and he is a good man. And I love him. And love is forever.
He thinks anything I do is good enough as long as I try my best. That success is measured by effort, not by outcome.
He thinks I make good gravy.
He thinks people should write about what they know.
He made his girlfriend quit her job to look after me when I was a child.
He knew I wouldn't end up a teenage pregnancy.
He always walked on the side closest to the curb because he was bigger and cars would see him first. I do the same with my daughter.
He took me to breakfast every Sunday while they were together and bought me a My Little Pony afterwards.
He is the reason I got to sleep in my parents bed until I was 7.
He rented little girls bedroom furniture for the summer so I would have a special place to stay.
The closets were always full of clothes when I got there, and then as I got older there was cash and cards to buy whatever I liked. Mom says it was in lieu of child support, but the point was that they were brands and styles I wanted, not what she said I could have.
He couldn't have me for a year because he was out of work and had no place for me. He drank a lot, locked himself in the bathroom and cried for me. He quit drinking soon after that.
He spoke softly, gently.
He listened when I talked.
I wanted to live with him when I was a child. I often did not want to go home to the crazy that was my house. He tried to keep me once and my mom flew all the way out to get me. Freshman year I asked to go live with him. He had to send my back because he did not have custodial rights.
There were always biscuits in the house when I came to stay with him. He would let me eat a whole container if I wanted to.
He told me WHY things were, he never passed my questions off.
He never spoke ill of my mom.
He only made a few passing comments on the man she was with, the man who raised me, saw me every day. None of them were mean, or dishonest. That must have been hard.
He said he will smoke outside while we are there. That he's not sure what we will want to eat, but that we can use his kitchen. He called twice to tell me about the weather, and that he has a washing machine. He said he still has my monopoly game but not much else for the baby girl to do. He said he is not as active as he was. I think he is nervous too. Which means he wants me to have a good visit. That he still loves me.
Thats nice. Suddenly I am looking forward to this visit, and sorry for the time I have missed. I just hope we can get to an easy place. I hope he doesn't die.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
because it's not often music makes you well up and laugh like a child all at the same time.
I have always loved this song. I used to dance and I choreographed a few not so suck ass dance pieces. (I know, will wonders never cease?) In fact, I danced with my old roommate, of recent fame. Before she turned into a complete-skanky-hoe-on-a stick.
And yet I digress.
I envisioned dancers connected to the ceiling via long tulle scarves. They would twirl, entwine and pulse in perfect unison. There would be one lone dancer, unfettered but alone. She would dance around them, never quite in tune, never in the right place. Symbolic , no?. . . Well what do you want, I was 15?.
The dance never happened, my ex moved out of state and I lost interest in dance. Make of that what you will. But I see it in my head when I hear this song. And it makes me sad. So it was to my great delight when I stumbled across this last night. Because laughing is WAY better than being sad. Most of the time. So here you are. Funny and poignant. You can decide which you'd rather focus on, just by opening and closing your eyes.
Enjoy.
(Oh and if you don't like this song, we cannot be friends. I'm sorry, but those are the rules.)
(Oh and if you don't like this song, we cannot be friends. I'm sorry, but those are the rules.)
Monday, May 17, 2010
Oh, how true you are Facebook
My college room mate wants to be my Facebook friend. The invite is sitting there, and because my language is set to Pirate English (don't mock me, you know you'd do it too if you could understand the lingo) "This sorry lout thinks they're yer mate" And while that might seem like pithy pirate slang, it is so freaking true. That chick is a bitch, pathetic and slimy and low. Please see exhibits 1-5
1. I moved into her apartment after her husband left her. Her parents didn't know she was married, cause they would have cut her off financially if they'd known.
2. She NEVER cleaned anything, including her toddler son, who I basically raised while I lived with her. I got him off the bottle, potty trained him and got up with him in the middle of the night. She smoked around him and left the next door neighbor to 'listen' for him when she would go out partying. Which meant I stayed home, cause I couldn't let that happen.
3. She met a crack dealing bisexual guy at a party and moved him in the same night. No joke. He used to wear my now husbands clothes next to his skin, I think he liked the way they smelled. I have nothing against bisexual guys, I mean that would be calling the kettle black, but I'm pretty sure he screwed guys for money. He would leave at 3 am and come back an hour later with 40 bucks. And I don't think it was always a drug deal. Eventually he and I got into it and he threw a bike at my now exes 3 year old. After I beat him, his dad called threatening me. I told him to come on over and I'd show him what I did to his boy. I moved out that weekend, she took his side.
4. She told my now husband that I was cheating on him, even had the crack dealers friend call him to tell him I was propositioning him. I wasn't, I hadn't. He almost left me.
5. She filed a police report on me when I moved out. She said I stole her vacuum, her chair and assorted Wet and Wild cosmetics. The chair was mine and the vacuum was accidentally packed by an uncle who helped move me out. I had returned it to her 'listening' in neighbor the next day. Yes, that's right people. A police report over dollar store makeup (which BTW, I did not even take)
6. After I moved out she stopped paying rent and got sued. She claimed I was still living there and that I was responsible for half. I almost got sued for something around 3 grand. I had to track down the old apartment manager who wrote a letter stating that I had given notice and had moved out long before.
So the question is, gentle reader. . . why the hell would she EVER think I would want to be her friend?. . . and perhaps just as interestingly, what do I do with the request.
* and before you say, maybe she's changed. . blah. . blah. . blah, I looked at her pics. She is still as trashy and low as ever. *
1. I moved into her apartment after her husband left her. Her parents didn't know she was married, cause they would have cut her off financially if they'd known.
2. She NEVER cleaned anything, including her toddler son, who I basically raised while I lived with her. I got him off the bottle, potty trained him and got up with him in the middle of the night. She smoked around him and left the next door neighbor to 'listen' for him when she would go out partying. Which meant I stayed home, cause I couldn't let that happen.
3. She met a crack dealing bisexual guy at a party and moved him in the same night. No joke. He used to wear my now husbands clothes next to his skin, I think he liked the way they smelled. I have nothing against bisexual guys, I mean that would be calling the kettle black, but I'm pretty sure he screwed guys for money. He would leave at 3 am and come back an hour later with 40 bucks. And I don't think it was always a drug deal. Eventually he and I got into it and he threw a bike at my now exes 3 year old. After I beat him, his dad called threatening me. I told him to come on over and I'd show him what I did to his boy. I moved out that weekend, she took his side.
4. She told my now husband that I was cheating on him, even had the crack dealers friend call him to tell him I was propositioning him. I wasn't, I hadn't. He almost left me.
5. She filed a police report on me when I moved out. She said I stole her vacuum, her chair and assorted Wet and Wild cosmetics. The chair was mine and the vacuum was accidentally packed by an uncle who helped move me out. I had returned it to her 'listening' in neighbor the next day. Yes, that's right people. A police report over dollar store makeup (which BTW, I did not even take)
6. After I moved out she stopped paying rent and got sued. She claimed I was still living there and that I was responsible for half. I almost got sued for something around 3 grand. I had to track down the old apartment manager who wrote a letter stating that I had given notice and had moved out long before.
So the question is, gentle reader. . . why the hell would she EVER think I would want to be her friend?. . . and perhaps just as interestingly, what do I do with the request.
* and before you say, maybe she's changed. . blah. . blah. . blah, I looked at her pics. She is still as trashy and low as ever. *
I Want You to Want Me. . . .(everybody sing)
So I occasionally go through efforts to be less self-hating. During these times I develop a huge super ego that screams about what a great catch I am. Up until now it mostly did it on the inside. But thanks to the miracle of push button publishing, we are going to get a chance to learn exactly how ego-maniacal I can really be. So in no particular order, here are reasons why I am a (near) prefect woman.
1. I can be ready to go anywhere in under 5 minutes, 7 if I have to shower.
2. I am just as happy having beer and rolled tacos as I am wine and brie.
3. I am financially independent.
4. I look cute when I pout.
5. I have a phone sex voice.
6. Not only will I not get angry if you check another woman out, I will most likely be checking her out too.
7. I can name 5 first person shooters.
8. My gamerscore has been better than my husbands.
9. I wrote those top two sentences. : )
10. I look good in heels.
11. I am funny, actually more so in real life than all this touchy feely blog shit would make it seem.
12. I am fantastic in bed.
13. I am a good cook.
14. I am very understanding and forgiving.
15. I am intelligent and can carry on a reasonable facsimile of a mature conversation.
16. I think Twilight was poorly written, and that the movies are even worse.
17. I cannot name the characters from Sex in the City, but I can name at least 2 dozen graphic novel/comic book titles and or characters.
18. I accept people for who they are, and do not judge where they have been.
19. I always strive to be better than I was the day before.
20. I am not afraid of bugs.
1. I can be ready to go anywhere in under 5 minutes, 7 if I have to shower.
2. I am just as happy having beer and rolled tacos as I am wine and brie.
3. I am financially independent.
4. I look cute when I pout.
5. I have a phone sex voice.
6. Not only will I not get angry if you check another woman out, I will most likely be checking her out too.
7. I can name 5 first person shooters.
8. My gamerscore has been better than my husbands.
9. I wrote those top two sentences. : )
10. I look good in heels.
11. I am funny, actually more so in real life than all this touchy feely blog shit would make it seem.
12. I am fantastic in bed.
13. I am a good cook.
14. I am very understanding and forgiving.
15. I am intelligent and can carry on a reasonable facsimile of a mature conversation.
16. I think Twilight was poorly written, and that the movies are even worse.
17. I cannot name the characters from Sex in the City, but I can name at least 2 dozen graphic novel/comic book titles and or characters.
18. I accept people for who they are, and do not judge where they have been.
19. I always strive to be better than I was the day before.
20. I am not afraid of bugs.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The better part of Mother's Day (clicky to expand the lovely)
We went to a beautiful place. It was cold and windy with pockets of warm still loveliness.
We walked the whole way along a pretty little stream. We had a little snack on an old tree stump. We sat at the edge of a tiny waterfall.
Baby girl touched algae and learned how mountains make rocks. For a moment all the world fell away and it was truly perfect.
Then we stepped up to our ankles in cold mud and she started crying. We changed in the parking lot. I had a black nightgown in the truck. I wore it the rest of the day, to dinner and everything. I felt soft and feminine and it was a wonderful way to spend the day.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Next time I'm letting him sleep like that.
The husband works nights, so he almost never gets up with baby girl. Which sucks, but is understandable. So this Sunday, Mothers Day, he got up with her so I could sleep in. The ex texted "Happy Mother's Day" to me around 9, but still the extra 30 - 45 minutes was nice. (bad ex)
The bed was cold and strangely empty so I got up. He was wedged into the couch, all uncomfortable looking, but asleep. Baby girl was curled up next to him watching Bob the Builder. I figured he was way to beat to make me the promised breakfast in bed, so I got him off the couch to tuck him back into bed, so he wouldn't be sore and cranky all day.. I figure I'll take baby girl to our favorite little coffee/breakfast nook and maybe shop a little before we wake him up again.
As I'm getting dressed he says it looks like I'm losing weight. I tell him he ALWAYS says that, because he knows I want to and he wants me to be happy. He insists I am. I laugh and say, well that's fine, but I'll probably just find it again. He says. . . wait for it. . . "Maybe you should stop looking for it at the bottom of a Nutella jar."
After that there was stunned silence, on both our part. Then some truly heartfelt grief, also on both our parts. I was so angry I cried, he tried to hold me, it was a mess. We talked about it throughout the day, not a great way to spend Mothers Day, but it IS just a day after all.
I know he didn't mean it really, and he was half awake. We joke and sometimes say snide little things, but he has never said anything like that. The part that hurts is that I am an emotional eater. And this past year has been very emotional. So I have put on weight. And I did just discover Nutella, which is so oh-my-fucking-god-fantastically-magical.
But i always feel like people look at me and think, "Wow, she'd be so much prettier if she could just lose that last 20 pounds." and that I sit around eating unhealthy foods all day, which is so far from the truth that is it ridiculous.
He ended up going to the coffee place with us, otherwise I would had stewed all morning. I shrunk into the corner. I didn't want to eat. I felt all my flaws. I was awful. He felt like shit, I could see it. I did end up eating, I mean lets not be stupid right? And today is a little better, but yeah. I'm still hurt. I still feel bad.
Today he said he hated that one comment could mess things up, and he's right. But it does. At least for a day or so. I don't think I'll hold that comment in my head. It is to ugly and mean, and I don't want to go down that road.
The bed was cold and strangely empty so I got up. He was wedged into the couch, all uncomfortable looking, but asleep. Baby girl was curled up next to him watching Bob the Builder. I figured he was way to beat to make me the promised breakfast in bed, so I got him off the couch to tuck him back into bed, so he wouldn't be sore and cranky all day.. I figure I'll take baby girl to our favorite little coffee/breakfast nook and maybe shop a little before we wake him up again.
As I'm getting dressed he says it looks like I'm losing weight. I tell him he ALWAYS says that, because he knows I want to and he wants me to be happy. He insists I am. I laugh and say, well that's fine, but I'll probably just find it again. He says. . . wait for it. . . "Maybe you should stop looking for it at the bottom of a Nutella jar."
After that there was stunned silence, on both our part. Then some truly heartfelt grief, also on both our parts. I was so angry I cried, he tried to hold me, it was a mess. We talked about it throughout the day, not a great way to spend Mothers Day, but it IS just a day after all.
I know he didn't mean it really, and he was half awake. We joke and sometimes say snide little things, but he has never said anything like that. The part that hurts is that I am an emotional eater. And this past year has been very emotional. So I have put on weight. And I did just discover Nutella, which is so oh-my-fucking-god-fantastically-magical.
But i always feel like people look at me and think, "Wow, she'd be so much prettier if she could just lose that last 20 pounds." and that I sit around eating unhealthy foods all day, which is so far from the truth that is it ridiculous.
He ended up going to the coffee place with us, otherwise I would had stewed all morning. I shrunk into the corner. I didn't want to eat. I felt all my flaws. I was awful. He felt like shit, I could see it. I did end up eating, I mean lets not be stupid right? And today is a little better, but yeah. I'm still hurt. I still feel bad.
Today he said he hated that one comment could mess things up, and he's right. But it does. At least for a day or so. I don't think I'll hold that comment in my head. It is to ugly and mean, and I don't want to go down that road.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
I swear I am NOT trying to start a fan club
But I swear this man sings from my heart.
And for a completely different feel, here it is off the album. As I have said before, this man is one of the best live artists I have ever heard. He is so unassuming and mellow with such deep perceptive lyrics. Sounds like I am describing a bottle of wine. Which I also love.
And for a completely different feel, here it is off the album. As I have said before, this man is one of the best live artists I have ever heard. He is so unassuming and mellow with such deep perceptive lyrics. Sounds like I am describing a bottle of wine. Which I also love.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
It's Emo Sad Pants time (Thank You Grace)
So on Saturday, which sucked for so many reasons, I instant messaged my dad. His profile immediately switched to offline. I'm not a suspicious person and I don't usually yell at my dad, but this is the 4th time in 2 months that this has happened. So I get pissed and text, "Did you really just switch offline when i came on?" No response. Fine.
Today I get a call at the shop. "Charlie?"
Yes? "Charlie (insert maiden name here)?"
And then I recognized the voice. Soft and slow, with a warm touch of southern drawl. My dad.
I love that man. I know that sounds normal, but I've only spoken to him a dozen times in the past decade, and I haven't seen him since I graduated High School. He is kind and gentle and intelligent. He is cold and distant and hard to know. My mom says that when they were married she suppressed urges to put a mirror under his nose to see if he was still breathing. She is all passion and drive.
More on all that another time.
He says that he is sorry he logged out, but that he had to go get a prescription. For heart meds. Because 2 months ago he had a quadruple bypass. Instantly I am cold and numb. I don't know what to do or feel or say. If it was my mom I would call her honey, ask if she was ok. If she laughed and said she was fine in a wispy way I would know she was lying, If she said, she felt like shit I would know she was fine. I would cry, because I love her and we are friends. I would go to her. We would console each other.
With him, I just don't know. I ask why he didn't tell me. He says he didn't want to bother me. I tell him he's not a bother, that he is family. He has no response to that. His parents died when he was a child and he and his siblings were placed in an orphanage. The older bother was picked up by an uncle because he could help on the farm, the little sister was picked up by an aunt because she was small and cute. He was left. For years. Then when he finally did get a home, he fell in love with his high school sweetheart and they were going to marry after graduation. He got into a car accident on prom night and she died. He never meant to marry my mom, or to have a child.
So he never wanted me, but he had me, he married her and he did the best he could. After us, he never went on to be a happy soccer dad for another family. He knew he had little to offer, but he made the best of the life she thrust on him. As a child it was not enough. Even as an adult it is hard. Again, we'll get into that another time.
I've always felt like we could take it slowly, form a relationship now that I was self sufficient and had a cold easy side that he could relate to. I'm sure my turbulent teenage years were terrifying to a man who dealt so poorly with emotions. But now I think that time is slipping. They have to put a stint in later this month, and he is still smoking, although he's down to a pack a week. I just have a bad feeling.
Losing someone is hard enough when you can look back on all the love and memories, but we have so much distance. Does he know I understand, that I don't blame him, that I respect the efforts he made? Does he know how much of him I carry with me? Could he even pick me out of a crowd?
He's two states away now, and I'm going to have to close shop to see him. I want to take my daughter, I want him to see her. I want to keep trying, even though its always been an effort in futility. I mean how many days can a person talk about the weather, gas prices and what they did last week? Truly open conversations are beyond him. It took him 7 years to tell his current wife that he loved her. He didn't even come to my wedding. Still, I know I'm going to go. I may be cold and compartmentalized like him, but I have my moms passion and drive.
Today I get a call at the shop. "Charlie?"
Yes? "Charlie (insert maiden name here)?"
And then I recognized the voice. Soft and slow, with a warm touch of southern drawl. My dad.
I love that man. I know that sounds normal, but I've only spoken to him a dozen times in the past decade, and I haven't seen him since I graduated High School. He is kind and gentle and intelligent. He is cold and distant and hard to know. My mom says that when they were married she suppressed urges to put a mirror under his nose to see if he was still breathing. She is all passion and drive.
More on all that another time.
He says that he is sorry he logged out, but that he had to go get a prescription. For heart meds. Because 2 months ago he had a quadruple bypass. Instantly I am cold and numb. I don't know what to do or feel or say. If it was my mom I would call her honey, ask if she was ok. If she laughed and said she was fine in a wispy way I would know she was lying, If she said, she felt like shit I would know she was fine. I would cry, because I love her and we are friends. I would go to her. We would console each other.
With him, I just don't know. I ask why he didn't tell me. He says he didn't want to bother me. I tell him he's not a bother, that he is family. He has no response to that. His parents died when he was a child and he and his siblings were placed in an orphanage. The older bother was picked up by an uncle because he could help on the farm, the little sister was picked up by an aunt because she was small and cute. He was left. For years. Then when he finally did get a home, he fell in love with his high school sweetheart and they were going to marry after graduation. He got into a car accident on prom night and she died. He never meant to marry my mom, or to have a child.
So he never wanted me, but he had me, he married her and he did the best he could. After us, he never went on to be a happy soccer dad for another family. He knew he had little to offer, but he made the best of the life she thrust on him. As a child it was not enough. Even as an adult it is hard. Again, we'll get into that another time.
I've always felt like we could take it slowly, form a relationship now that I was self sufficient and had a cold easy side that he could relate to. I'm sure my turbulent teenage years were terrifying to a man who dealt so poorly with emotions. But now I think that time is slipping. They have to put a stint in later this month, and he is still smoking, although he's down to a pack a week. I just have a bad feeling.
Losing someone is hard enough when you can look back on all the love and memories, but we have so much distance. Does he know I understand, that I don't blame him, that I respect the efforts he made? Does he know how much of him I carry with me? Could he even pick me out of a crowd?
He's two states away now, and I'm going to have to close shop to see him. I want to take my daughter, I want him to see her. I want to keep trying, even though its always been an effort in futility. I mean how many days can a person talk about the weather, gas prices and what they did last week? Truly open conversations are beyond him. It took him 7 years to tell his current wife that he loved her. He didn't even come to my wedding. Still, I know I'm going to go. I may be cold and compartmentalized like him, but I have my moms passion and drive.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)