Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Incense, My Play List & Dinner

There's my 'prevening'.

Just exactly what the title says.

I'm in a very lazy mood tonight. Lazy makes me extra crazy.

For tonight's offering, the 'off-shoots' can expect to be tantalized with ... breakfast for supper!

*Crowd goes wild*

It's a lazy-assed evening meal, but they love it.

I had big plans of making some gooey meat-bally goodness for tonight. Given that my bottom lip has become a tripping hazard, I thought comfort food was the order of the day... buutt Thing 1 turned her face up at that idea, and Thing 2 had a tooth pulled last night and is less than pleasant at present.

I've got sausage and hash browns in the oven and bacon on the stove. I'll make them a cheesy omelette and everyone is happy. 

Or that's the general plan.

I'm heading to my 'bestie's' new place afterward. She just moved into the city after more than 20 years in her house. It's a bitter sweet situation. Last night was apparently on the 'bitter' side, so I offered to pop over and help sort through a few more boxes. I was there most of last weekend when the actual move happened ... 

My spidey senses are telling me she needs a little extra support tonight.

The good news is that it doesn't take me an hour to get to her anymore! Yay!

It rather feels as though everyone needs a little extra from me lately. It's very nice to feel needed... it honestly is... it's just that I am running a tad low at the moment. My daughters have been in high level teen-angst for the past several weeks... exams, proms, graduation (from grade 9), friend drama, anxiety, moods and hormones. 

...and I know that I am like the luckiest mother on the planet that my kids still tell me most everything. I know it. I truly do.

...but here's the thing - they never shut up!

Between the two of them, I have one or both chatting, fighting, ranting or bawling my ears off - from the time I get home most evenings, until the time I go to bed ... and even then I am still listening to Stretch babbling or ranting to one of her friends on Skype through my bedroom wall.

Yes... I know I should ban her from the internet at night. Yes... I know she should not be in front of a screen of any kind within 2 hours of bed time. Yes... I know I am the one that pays the damned bills and my ability to sleep should supersede her constant need to be connected... but I just don't want to fight about it.

She gets good marks and has a friend group. Honestly, considering her first 7 years of school... this is far and away more than I ever dreamed would be the case with her. So, I don't fight about it. I let her do her thing as much of the time as I can. 

My youngest is a little more concerning at the moment. She is in the witching years. 12-14 is a rough couple of years for a girl. Especially one as deep and sensitive and self aware as my youngest child. She really struggles through her little world. I mean she is an awesome kid! She's an awesome human, honestly. She's as smart as a whip, funny as hell and everyone loves her to pieces. She really is a great kid... but she has demons, that one.

I recognize them all too intimately. 

It worries the hell outta me... but then I hear my own voice telling me I am 'borrowing trouble' by assuming she will suffer my illness. I don't want her to have to stand a minute longer than is absolutely necessary if she does have that curse. I don't want to miss the signs. I'm so afraid of missing something that I wonder if I then see things that aren't there. There is really no reason for me to believe either of them will have depression of any kind. None at all. Still...

AAAaahhhhHHH!!!!

This is too hard! 
Adulting ... it's too bloody hard for me to do.
I'm not even kidding anymore. UNCLE, already!
Stop the world! I wanna get off!
Especially when I feel so goddamned alone in this life I have made! 

We actually had a bit of a 'thing' last Friday night, my partner in crime and I. I had promised I would help with the move. She was running much later than she had planned and yadda, yadda, yadda ... everything was all fucked up. My husband, who has been in poor humour of late to begin with, was less than impressed and he and I were like two live wires snapping into one another. 

It was not cool, dude. 
Not cool.

I realize that I am very lucky I haven't had to deal with a tumultuous relationship for all these 18 years, but it has made me a complete light-weight. I cannot deal with fighting. I truly can't. And I do not do well around an angry man. I don't know what the hell that is about... some god-awful 'daddy issue' or some such, but I shrink around male anger.

All I wanted to do last weekend was 'be there' for my friend of the past 20-odd years. That's it! By the end of the evening however, I managed to make every member of my family wild with me.

That was fun. 

I feel like I am existing inside a giant ball of statically charged frustration. As though it's stuck to me like an errant pair of cotton panties on a pair of ugly polyester pants.

So... me = ugly polyester pants and frustration = errant panties. Gah!

***

Well ... several hours have elapsed and I am back from the city. I got fucking lost coming home. I do not do well in the core of the city. I mean, I always have a general idea of where I need to point myself, but it seems to happen a lot that I am watching street names for one I know. Tonight it was Cogswell.

My girl is happy and my 'girls' are still up in their rooms. I could have left and come back and they may not even have noticed.

We didn't do a huge amount, but there are like maybe 10 less boxes to be unpacked. I am very much off my game of late. The meds I take keep me more 'level', but my body fights the process at certain times of the year. This is one of them. November - December was another. I'm expecting a dip in late August, too. These seem to be my more 'manic' times. I find it feels like my body is at war with my brain. On top of that, all of my tools are not functioning properly. Mainly because it was the manic energy that fueled my drive. Now, I am just a tightly wound disaster area with no direction or goal. It so super sucks, I can't even describe it.

Anyway... I wound up having a bitch session about my current sitch. Aka, my spouse. I didn't want to do that. I don't enjoy it, honestly... but I needed to unload some of the passive aggression, the guilt traps, the insecurities and the bullshit that has been collecting in my proverbial mental lint trap. It's exhausting just being inside my head right now... then add the extra neediness of my peeps and throw on snarky comments and constant goading for a fight from hubs... it is a lot.

I guess that is why right at this moment, I am about to chase a sleeping pill with a hearty shot of vodka. 'Cause baby... mama needs some sleep! I know I can't continue to abuse my body the way I have been, but we are in a 'secure and hold' situation and whatever gets my left foot to move in front of my right foot and repeat is the order of the day in my book. I just have to make it one more day.

Then things will turn around.

God! I can't even read this crap anymore.

When is this going to get a little easier? Huh? Or at least do-able? Can we get there, please? I'm so incredibly exhausted with our way of life. Just completely over it, honestly. That makes me antsy. Then my antsy-ness makes my husband even weirder than before and all of a sudden, we have a problem where no actual problem exists.

Please make this stop!

Seriously. I'm over it.





Sunday, June 3, 2018

Chasing Cars







If I lay here... if I just lay here...





It has been a very long week.






Monday, May 28, 2018

Spring Fever


There so many things I want to be doing.

Things that are good for me. Things like writing... walking... going to yoga.

I want to be excited...

That makes me want to do things that are not good for me. Things like eating... drinking vodka... seeking attention... to be fair, I am not doing that. I'm doing battle with the urge, though.

I want to feel pretty. I know it's utterly ridiculous, but when I am feeling decidedly un-pretty, everything gets all wonky. My whole vibe is off. It says something ugly about me that I'd value the opinion of someone external to me over those who know and love me the most. But I do.

So I redirect ...tamp everything down ... because that is the only way I can control it. Swallow hard.

I want to do something meaningful... like putting my crazy-assed points of view in emails and send them to my daughters. Not to be accessed now... not until they were much older.

I made accounts for them. They don't know about them, but I have the login info and passwords for each of them written somewhere that someone will find if something ever happens to me.

I haven't started sending emails yet.

Firstly, because I set one of them up with the wrong date of birth (by a day) and it was my anal retentive child's account... it'll drive her mental.

The longer I think about it though, the more I'm thinking I'll leave it... kind of a little 'tweak' from one tightly wound whack-a-do to another.

And second, I can't seem to find my desire to create lately. Not sure what that is all about, but I wouldn't be sorry to see that streak break. 

So, here's a thing I might put into email format for my daughter's future self to read;

Just now, I am so super in the mood to be writing for the first time in a very long time ...and you, my youngest child are chatting my ears off. I want to throw my lap top at you ... frizbie-style. 

Don't you think she would find that hysterical as an adult with kids of her own?  

SERIOUSLY ... DUDE!!! SHUDDUP!!

sigh...

I love them dearly, I honestly do. 

My oldest had a school trip and flew to another city. She had an amazing time. I was so proud of how well she did with her budgeting and how well she kept in touch. How she told me she was missing my food so much ... and me, too ... but "could we have a big brunch when I get home?" I was on cloud nine! We had brunch with three kinds of meat, two kinds of eggs, homemade pancakes, hash browns, toast, fruit and juice. 

Then, for dinner I had gotten four small lobsters and paired them with bbq steak and all the fixin's. Onions and mushrooms, baked red potatoes, freshly chopped salad ... and for dessert, strawberry shortcake. 

Every detail of that meal was me slopping my love all over that kid. Do you think she will recognize what that was really about? Will she resent me because I have been such a disaster during this highly emotional and impressionable time in her life?

Will what they remember about me be, that I was a 'mom-ster'? That I was selfish? That I messed with their heads?

So many people resent their mothers. It's weird. I'm sure most of those mothers were doing their best most of the time.
Mine was.
I am.
It's been less 'sprint' and more 'drag' a whole lot of the time, but we are all doing our best.

Will that matter, do you think?
Or am I just undermining their confidence, or over nurturing, or under feeding, or not seeing something I should, or seeing things that aren't there?

It's the only thing I really have to be good at... being their mother. I so want to be good at that. I want them to want my ear when they have problems. I want them to be bonded to me.

It's so hard to know how to play your hand at any given time. When you look back at mistakes, bad decisions and lessons learned the hard way, it's pretty easy to see where you went wrong, but at the time? Not so much

I think it would be cool to suddenly find out my mom had written to me when I was still young ... and she was still young. That would be a treasure beyond words. Don't you think? To be able to read through the eyes of your mother while she was still mothering you? 

... but then, would I really want my kids to know all my truths? There's a question for smarter people than me.

Yeah ... and chatty-Kathy across the room here just said (and I quote) "I am expecting top marks for this story I'm writing (that's right ... she is writing an English assignment while annoying the hell outta me) ... I mean I won't be happy until I have an envelope of her tears from reading this story" (referring to her English teacher).

What have I done?

Now she is getting SIRI to say "Uh-oh spaghetti-o" over and over again. OmiGAWD!!!

This child! Mind you, this is the same child that looked up from her lap top this afternoon and thanked me for 'really listening to her' and for 'taking her seriously'...she said she realized today how rare that was.

I adore these kids.

I guess at the end of the day, though I am finding my existence a little dull... and the road is still a little rocky. Things are okay... my kids are okay...  I am okay... it's going to be okay.






Monday, March 12, 2018

Light, Authentic and Funny

I've been thinking a lot about writing again.

I sometimes think I might have insights that could help someone else navigate the waters of their crazy.

Seriously ... I have got to be some sort of expert by now.

It would be too wordy, so I would need a good editor... but I think there is a story in here somewhere. 

Where on earth would I begin? 

How could I properly present my story without sounding like a complaints department?

Ugh ... can you imagine? That book would suck!

No, it needs to be funny and make light of heavy topics. 

It needs to be authentic, but from a positive perspective. 

Funny ... but not 'making fun'. Not heavily sarcastic, either. Light.

I want my book review comments to include those words ... and maybe warm.

Those words would mean more to me than "Great Writing" ... although that would be lovely. I do have my doubts I'll ever manage getting something published. 

Today after work, I came home and began my transition from work Dani to home Dani, aka; Mom. This inevitably involves a great deal of puttering through mundane tasks. Empty dishwasher, deal with recyclables, vacuum, scoop litter ... think of something for dinner ... because that would be when I would be reminded of the impending feeding time. Sometimes, it's laundry or garbage or whatever. I seem to need to unwind myself with chores. It soothes the beast.

Speaking of beasts ...I find I am awful bloody cranky after I leave work lately. I don't understand that at all. I really like my job. I am never twisted about anything there ... really. I find it oddly unsettling. I've never worked for someone that didn't have some sort of narcissism disorder that got its jollies from torturing me.

Back to my original point, my mind was particularly fertile and I had a million ideas skitter through ... but in the time it has taken me to find a charger for my lap top (because someone else left theirs at some work site or hotel room) *sighs* ... let the cat in, got my wi fi working again (because said lap top had died, due to no charging cord) got my blog signed in ...  let the cat out ... got up to check on dinner ... opened my composing section, let the cat in, started by trying to think of a title, let the cat out ... then I realized I had completely forgotten all the little pearls of wisdom I felt so entirely compelled to share. 

Fek!

This may take a while.

...and here, I sit.

Unable to remember so much as a shred of what was effervescing in my bean earlier today. 

D - out












Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Occasionally, I Forget Just How Tightly Wound I Am...


It's gotta be some sort of crime how much I enjoy organizing things.

I'm not even kidding.

I mean, I hate paper with every fibre of my being, and if I never saw another piece, it would still be too soon ... but I am planted firmly in my happiest of places.

Like a sow in her slop.

I'm going to wind up with likely 20 bankers boxes of paper to take for recycling... that's not including the 8 large bags of shredded material from old financials and such. (And yes, I said recycled ... so every paper clip and any plastic fasteners have been manually removed...) I'm not sure of the total yet, because I still have a wall of filing cabinet to do. I'm not sure what to expect from that ... could be another 10 or more... which would put me closer to 30. 

My back is not looking forward to that.

There is also a pile of cardboard and two full boxes of expired promotional material ... and there have been many bags of garbage that have gone over the past two weeks. The cleaners have been good enough to take that much.

I've been taking pictures ... I can back up my statements:







Is it so wrong that this physically excites me? I know ... I am so super weird. 

Could be worse, I suppose ... at least this is useful. 

I should have this done likely by Thursday. I'd say tomorrow, but I have an appointment and will be leaving the office... oh, and I also have to go BACK to the DMV! 

Lawd help us all ...

Until next time, 

D-out




Sunday, February 25, 2018

Let's Play A Game...

I'm calling it: Can you name the creature that crawled up Dani's arse and died last week?

For reelz, man. I was not a happy camper this past week. 

I do not know what the hell my problem was... but a problem, I certainly had.

Work was fine, although there was a strange energy afoot with my boss this week. She couldn't figure it out, either. We were fine - we really do get along very well. 

It scares me a little how well we get along... how great things are going and how much I am enjoying going there every day. I'm sitting here now on a Sunday afternoon, and instead of feeling the nausea creeping up my chest at the thought of Monday morning, I'm totally happy with the concept. 

I'm seriously so head-shy at this point, I keep looking around for the thing that's going to clobber me. I super need to beat that out of my own head.

We are slowly getting things caught up ... Stretch has a school trip coming up that is costing $1500 and although she started out strong with the fund raising, it's been mostly us that have been contributing to the fund. So ... we maybe could be doing this a little more quickly, if not for the $300 deposits required every month. 

I owe my father $2K... plus whatever interest and fees he may have encountered over the last year. I was supposed to have it paid off in 4 months ... but ... as we know, the rug was pulled out from under us a couple of times. 

I can not express in words how much I want this money paid back to him. It makes me physically ill to know that debt is there. 

Anyway ... digressing again.

My original point was, we are just about at the point where I can start making good on that debt - and once that is paid back, I can breathe again.

Then life will open up for me ... but right now, just the possibility existing, that it's gonna happen soon, is enough to keep me from growing a second head ... right?

No.

Image result for anger GIF

This was me last week.

I'm not even kidding. I had to go to the Dept. of Motor Vehicles on Tuesday. It was my third attempt at getting my errand there completed. THIRD.

Anyhoo ... in the interest of not putting myself to sleep, the shortish version is as follows:

Bought a piece of shit car for $400 in November. It needed all new brake lines and it took quite a bit of time with Hubs' schedule to get the work done ... so it was in January that I finally went in to transfer the ownership.

It was a 13 year old LaSabre (yes, an old man car) with like 360K kms on it.

It was a piece of shit, but it drove like a tank through the snow ... and my pride is pretty much pulp right now anyway, so I didn't care... until

The DMV (yes, I know I am dating myself by calling it that) told me my car was worth $2850 and that would be $433.09 please. I'm like uh ... no. Give me back the slip, please. She was very nice and explained I could have an appraisal done ... blah blah blah... and I left.

Then we decided to just buy another car. See about financing and just do it already. I honestly didn't expect it to work out ... given our last 5 or so years of credit woes ... but it did, and we traded said piece of shit and badda boom, badda bing - NO PROBLEMO.

Except ... problemo. 

The dealership made a boo boo in accepting the car as a trade and when they sent it to the auction they realized they would need the registration transferred to them.

I'm gonna yadda yadda yadda over the next bit and say that after two more trips in, a mother fucking appraisal of the stupid thing, they then, attempted to tell me they wouldn't accept it - because the dealership had emailed it to me ....

Let's just say this: with the deadly combination of my mood and circumstance, it was a 50/50 call, whether I was getting escorted out by police. 

I managed to keep the beast caged, but I have to tell you ... when I am pushed that far and my mood is this wonky, it's a bit of a perfect storm - I am scary. It really doesn't happen very often anymore ... but I get the kind of mad people around me can smell... even if they don't see me. They sense it ... like looming death.

I was not rude to the woman that served me, but as calmly as I could muster, I requested the presence of her supervisor. She started questioning me and I simply said to her that I was not leaving of my own free will, without that vehicle being transferred, and that I needed to impress that upon someone who could affect my circumstance.

We came to an arrangement, but that chicken shit supervisor refused to face me. Fucking pussy! I have no use for cowards. 

So ... the process was begun and then she informed me of the cost ... it was $15 higher than it should have been. Well, she explained, they charged the tax based on the certificate, not the appraisal they forced me to get ... on a 13 year old, piece of shit, old man car, that has 300K+ kms on it, which has very likely been sold 5 other times in its life - on which, our government has made tax dollars each and every time ... and they are screwing me with another $15.

Un. Fucking. Believable.

...and yes, I am ashamed to admit that she heard me say that under my breath. 

She was a little rattled by the time I left ... but I swear to you, I showed unbelievable restraint.

I was seething.

That was the second sign of my week to come... I bled through my pants at work earlier in the day. 

I guess I was due for a crap week.

Honestly, I kept pretty good control. I didn't blow up at the kids ... I was cool at work. I didn't say anything to my husband that was offside ... but then, I don't really have to with him. He feels my vibes immediately ... so he was kinda tiptoeing around me ... which I found irritating - of course.

It feels like I've been engaged in physical battle, honestly. 

By the time Friday afternoon came, my head was splitting in half... I'm talking 'maybe I have a Pac-Man eating my grey matter' kinda splitting. I was useless ... I came home and tried to get rid of it. I had a bath, took a handful of pills, put a cold bag on my neck, rubbed menthol into my temples, had some herbal tea... didn't touch it. In fact, the bath actually made me nauseated... and the heartburn. OH.MY.GOD!! I wouldn't have wanted to sneeze. I'd have burned the house down. 

It was rough.

Then I decided to pull out the big guns. I had a puff and poured a glass of wine. 

That didn't help either... although at least I cared a little less about it at that point ... so there's that.

By Saturday, the headache had subsided, Mrs. Hyde had disappeared and all seemed right with the world again. I hope that means I have finally shaken off the beast.

I'm alone all next week, as my board is gone to their AGM in Mexico. In fact, I imagine they are not long before they land right about now. I'm a little jealous. I can't imagine leaving my family for 7 days to go and hang out in Mexico. I might have died from the guilt... but, still.

My boss was bummed that I wouldn't be going with her. (I mean I was never going - it's a $4K trip and the Board wasn't going to cough that up for a brand new staffer.) It's just that we really do get along quite swimmingly and where she's going single, it would have been good to have a buddy to hang with. It was nice of her to say that to me. Made me feel pretty good... even in the absence of unlimited alcohol and sand in my toes.

So ... my task for this week is to finish the file room. I've been mining through it for the past week and have made lots of progress. It is a big job. Nobody has ever thrown anything away in their 52 years as an Association. It's wild, the stuff I've been finding. It's actually turned into quite a training tool. I have been essentially teaching myself the job and this exercise has proven the best method so far. 

Not to mention ... how awesome am I gonna look when they see what I can do? 

Seriously.

This is my super power.

And with that, I will say that I am still sitting in jammy pants and a sweatshirt and it is late Sunday afternoon. My house is mostly clean, my kids are at a movie, my husband is cleaning out his work van and the smell of roasting turkey is filling my senses with dinner time anticipation. 

Tomorrow, I will spend my day doing something that soothes my weirdo personality like a fine cognac. I'll be lonely, but it will be a good week.

Here's hoping crazy bitch-face is dead and gone. Ugh 





Sunday, February 4, 2018

Why I Don't Follow News...



I have to say that the teeny tid-bits of news that filter through my force-field of late have me feeling rather sick to death of this society.

I'm not even exaggerating that. I'm sick of us, as a whole.

Between the politicians that dropped off over the past two weeks due to undisclosed 'sexual misconduct' and the news release from the RCMP that the number of women coming forward with complaints about the physician they were forced to see in order to have their job, is growing daily.

A doctor who referred to himself as "Dr. Fingers", according to multiple accounts. I know that we mustn't assume ... and that he hasn't been 'proven' a sadistic, power-hungry piece of prehistoric excrement... but can I be frank in saying the following: I am so mother-fucking sick to death of a society that allows this kind of bullshit to happen every day, I could scream!

Sick of it.

I can't tell you that I have been a victim of sexual harassment. Mainly because I'm sincerely too stupid to recognize it. I think I worked with a manager at a Trust Company when I was 18 that might have given that a go, had he not been transferred out to another branch. 

Somebody else had to explain to me why that was good news for me. 

Then when I was older, I was fat and therefore, unattractive. I didn't experience any advances ... but I had a boss that called me "Mimi" to the male agents with whom, I had to work. 

You know Mimi ...

Image result for mimi bobeck pictures

Yeah ... that's what my boss used to call me to my co-workers behind my back.

I've experienced lots of other kinds of abuse in the workplace ... but to be forced to attend a doctor, in order to keep or get your job ... who raped you? And then to be so afraid to say anything, because you would lose your job. I mean, you're already an hysterical woman, for god's sake! You can't let them be right ... feed into their stereotype.

Nope! Nobody wanted to be labeled a whistle-blower ... or shit disturber ...


...and so, this blatant abuse of power continued for more than THREE DECADES!!! 

Three decade, people!

This story makes me throw up in my mouth a little.

I have two daughters. 

Two future women. 

Two freedom fighters.

I look at the world we are leaving for them and wonder if anyone is ever going to tip the balance between the sexes.

I suppose if this generation gets its way, everyone will refuse to identify with any one gender ... maybe that is the answer. 

Evolve into androgynous beings. 

Problem solved.

I don't know if that is preferable to me. I like our differences. What I want is to see both sides of the equation equal each other using entirely different methods. 

Why in hell is that so bloody hard?

GAH! People!!

Rant over.