My Mother.

A few days ago my mother called me. As I was at work, I could not answer. When I left work, I listened to her voice mail. "I'm in the E.R. Call me." Instant panic took over. I even yelled out "Oh, no!" without realizing. I immediately called her. She could not have answered quickly enough. In the short walk to my car I had completely run out of breath. "Hey, are you ok?!" Her voice was soft as usual. "Yeah. My heart was acting up and I had some chest pains." On the phone, my response was "Ok." as in "You're still alive, that's good" but in my head my response was "Oh no no no, this isn't happening, I'm not ready for these kinds of things to happen."

My grandmother just passed away last year. She was my mother's mother so naturally they looked very much alike. Almost identical. My mother and I are nearly night and day if it weren't for our eyes. Watching my grandmother deteriorate very quickly was upsetting on it's own. However, what I couldn't seem to look past was the thought "What will I do when this happens to Mom?" And then, in this moment on the phone, there was a flash of this thought again. In that moment I thought of Mom's several thousands of personal items, the welfare of my teenage brother and sister, my own mortality, and mostly hers. I sat in my car, freezing because I hadn't thought to put the key in the ignition yet. And I had also kept my eyes shut while she was speaking. It was almost as if I was hoping it was a nightmare.

She was waiting on test results. They couldn't be sure of what was causing her troubles without lots and lots of tests, of course. She said she would call me back as soon as they gave her an answer. I went back into the store and sat in the break room, having a stupid amount of trouble trying to keep my hands still. I kept my phone on me and waited for her to call back. When she did I was at the top of a latter and nearly fell off because I knew it was her. "All I can say is that my life is pretty plain...." I answer the phone. She explained that it wasn't a heart attack. Huge waves of relief wash over me briefly. It turns out the problem is ulcers. Ulcers in her stomach and esophagus are affecting her right heart valve and keeping it from working like it should and the feeling is very similar to a heart attack. They hope that with acid reflux medication this problem will fade.

This situation reminds me of a couple of years ago when my dad told me he was going to have a large chunk of his lip cut out due to sun damage and cancer. Although both diagnoses sounded scary and life-threatening in the beginning and both turned out to be relatively harmless and mild, they both made me panic and face the thoughts I had been trying to escape. No one wants to watch their parents die. Neither of my parents have lead healthy lives. They both have their fair share of problems. I don't want to lose them. I don't want my kids to lose them. I don't want to handle things when they're gone. Who will I turn to? And what will the days leading up to the end be like?

2013

I haven't even looked at this page in a very long time. I had imagined originally that I would use this page to rant, release, draw out all the stresses in my life. I haven't used it lately...and it shows. I wouldn't call myself depressed. Of course I wouldn't. That would make me seem as if I were fishing for pity and just the idea makes my skin crawl. However, if I'm being completely honest, I do believe that if I had the time, money, or care to visit a doctor of some kind they might tell me that I am not balanced. I have a very bad temper and I regularly feel sorry for myself for no particular reason. I cry...often. I would say there was a period in my life around college when I didn't cry as much, but as a teenager and as a post children woman I cry quite a bit. Then again, I also have happy moments; usually to myself. Don't read into that too much. I think I've written about these happy moments before. They usually occur when I hug my children or when I hear the perfect song or when the breeze blows through my hair and the temperature is that magical temperature that you can't really feel whether it's warm or cool. Those moments are fleeting, but during those moments I feel as if nothing is wrong. Everything is complete and perfect in my life. Almost as if I could "die happy." I wish I had more of those moments. As much as I feel I have terrible times, I also feel that my perfect times are more frequent than the perfect times that other people experience; even people who seem happier than I am. I generally do not smile. It's not that I want people to think I'm sad, it's just that I don't like to seem fake. I think there are some people in the world who are genuinely happy enough to walk around with a constant smile, but mostly I think the kind of people who walk around with a constant smile are faking it. That's their own business and if they're good at it, who cares really? Faking is not for me, though. I just can't do it. My face has a shape that revolves around a natural frown and eye brows that turn when I don't want them to. My face looks unhappy all the time when, in fact, I'm indifferent. I am coasting though without cares. And yet, I still believe that my happy moments are an anomaly.

No one would possibly believe this about me, but when I was in college I wrote a speech on happiness. It was the sort of thing you would expect from some neo-hippie type of cheery person, not me. At the time I was pretty happy. Life was simple in college and I could do whatever I wanted to. I had no ties to anyone else and was free to think only of myself. I can't remember all of that speech. I do remember one of the closing lines though. "Imagine...how much better this world would be if we all were happy. And happiness isn't something you have to force. You can build it. It's already in you. You just need to find it and keep it." It sounds very corny, I know. At the time, I had mastered the idea of "letting things go" and just being happy on purpose. I still believe that is possible, but now, for me, it is much more difficult to obtain. I have bills I can't pay on time. I have a dead-end job but no ambition to go above it anyway. I have 2 children who constantly fight over who's touching who. I have a husband who by his own account is completely without the ability to express himself or do things on his own. I have days when I cannot get out of bed. I'm not old or injured, I just don't want to do anything...ever. I am lazy and without purpose.

So why do I ever have those perfect moments? Why do they come at all? I believe there is a spark in my brain. That spark wants to be happy and productive and energetic. How do I bring this out more? I can't change my situation. I have to change my thinking. New Year's resolutions are seemingly pointless. No one ever sticks to them. I never come up with any. A new year to me is just another year. Not a "clean slate" or a "second chance." Next year I will be 30. 30 is a big deal to a woman. I have wrinkles now and my hips hurt all the time (I need to lose weight). I can't change any of this.

There are people in this world who always do their best no matter what. I need that mentality. So where do I get it? It's already there. I need only to utilize it. And I plan on it. I plan on making myself get up and do. Do whatever needs to be done. For the new year I will "get over it." That is my New Year's resolution.

Been a while.

So.....I haven't done anything with this in like a month. I've been busy like I always am. With housework and regular work and crap like that. And now, I'm going to cook dinner. Ah, the life of you average American woman. Psh...

Bleh...

 "Bleh" is a word that I use to describe general disgust in something. I got sick about a week ago. Constant puking for 14 hours strait and then fine. Mostly fine. Although I'm not tossing cookies every ten minutes, I don't want to eat. And when I do eat, I feel like crap. It blows. I hate being sick and I'm...well, sick of it! I take vitamins and all that bullshit, but it doesn't matter. Maybe I have little to no immune system. Some people would say it's because I don't eat much meat. Whatever.  We're already 2 months into the last year we have on Earth. Nothing crazy to report yet. If I have little to no immune system, then I'll probably be one of the first to go during the zombie apocalypse. Given a lot of thought about the survival end of it, but not if I'm the flesh eater. Time to start planning on how to get those crafty living out of their hiding places...

I Should Be Jogging

 So...I've been doing some exercising. I am about 40 pounds over weight which I absolutely loathe. I've lost about 12. I need to lose more. People tell me I look fine. But they don't know what I used to look like. In high school I hated myself because I got teased for my big boobs. But then I got out of high school and realized my boobs were pretty nice, my hair was naturally blonde, and I was thin. All those things put together made me pretty hot, I'm not going to lie. For a couple years I was pretty awesome. I was confident and did pretty much any damn thing I felt like doing. I went out...a lot. I dated quite a bit and for a while I had a guy mentality about dating. When I didn't feel like hanging out with a guy, I just blew him off. I had lots of friends and I was always busy. These days, I've had 2 kids and gained 20 lbs with each pregnancy and I have become very boring. I still have the same personality I've always had, I'm just slightly muted I guess. I don't feel like acting like I'm great is appropriate if I don't look great. It's low self esteem I suppose. Some days when my hair looks perfect or I've lost another pound or someone who isn't crazy or disgusting hits on me, I feel a little better. And I've noticed on those days I do everything better. I have more patience with my kids, I'm more playful with my husband, and I even work harder at my job. It's the oddest thing. I should just hire someone to follow me around and tell me I'm the shit every day. I know it sounds completely stupid to other people but I have trouble believing that even my husband is still attracted to me. I feel like when he met me I still looked amazing and that's why he doesn't mind how I look now. Almost like it's a given that when you marry a cute girl, she eventually going to get fat and stop shaving her legs or something. That sucks. Sometimes I wonder if he's only into me because we're married and I'm his only option anymore so what's he going to do about it? He's tried to assure me that's not true. If he had his way I'd be kicking in the teeth of anyone who looks at me a little too long. But I don't. I don't reciprocate, but I don't shun people either. If someone stares a little too long I think to myself, "Someone who only knows the fat version of me likes the way I look? Preposterous!" But it does make me feel good. I think all women feel this way.
 Unfortunately that's why so many of them cheat on their husbands. They are so starved for attention that as soon as they get it from someone new, they go crazy. It's a shame. I think that's why so many military wives cheat (not that they're the only ones, they're just who I hear of a lot). Their husbands aren't there to look at them, but someone is looking. I don't understand cheating. It's not worth the trouble or the drama. If you actually met someone else and thought they could be the love of your life, then the person you're with must not mean much to you and you should just split up. There's no reason to be with 2 people ever. If the second person you meet isn't worth losing the first person, then they're not even worth looking at.
 But anyway, the point is I need to lose weight. I don't want to be as thin as I was in high school. This butt with these boobs were not meant to be on a 117 lb body. I think 130 would be good. I could just tone up in a lot of places and still keep my size. Marilyn Monroe was a size 14 too. But her size 14 ass looked amazing. Mine...so-so. I've kind of plateaued in my weight loss. I need to do more exercise than what I've been doing to lost more weight. I could go to a gym but I already have an enormous amount of guilt that my sitter sees my kids more than I do. How do other women do this?!

"Old Fashion" Eye Exam

 I had headaches in the 7th grade. The eye doctor said I was straining my eyes to see the chalkboard. They put me in glasses. Terrible. I kept them for about a month and tossed them. My vision always seemed a little blurry, but it didn't bother me. When I became pregnant with my son I found out you could get your eyes checked for free so since I hadn't gotten that done in 10 years I decided to go for an exam. You know that machine that shoots a puff of air into your eyes to test the pressure behind them? That day the machine was broken. I said "Oh, good. I hate that thing." They said "Oh, we still have to do a test. We'll just do it the old fashion way." Ok.... I wasn't worried yet. Then 3 nurses took me into a room with a dentist style chair. What are we doing?? I'm worried at this point. They gave me eye drops that were supposed to numb my eyes. Which is a totally weird feeling.  It's like....it's like biting into a York Peppermint Patty! Not exactly. It's like standing on top of a mountain in Alaska though. Not in the refreshing way either. More like extreme cold burning your eyeballs and making you cry tears of antifreeze. Yeah, like that. Then 2 of the nurses hold my arms down. ♪Panic!♪ They pull out this thing that looks like a giant pen with a clicker on the end. They tell me I must look directly at the "probe" the entire time or they have to start over. So they put this device on my pupil. Fucking ON it. And they click the button 10 times. Each time it pushed my eye back into my socket. They click it 10 times for each eye and it has to be right on the pupil or they start over. I was traumatized. And blind as it turns out.
 They actually asked me if I drove there. I thought they were joking. They were not. They also asked me if I was color blind. I said "No, why?" and they said "So, you can see the red of the stop signs before you get to them?" ??? I said "Are you suggesting I can't read STOP on a stop sign?" Turns out I can't see anything more than 6 feet away. Nice. I didn't notice the difference when I was inside the doctor's office, but when I walked outside it was amazing. For the first time in my life I could see individual leaves on the trees and shingles on the roof tops. They must have thought I was having an acid trip in the parking lot. Ridiculous! I never get an eye exam without first asking "Is the puff thingy working today?" Never.

In The 80's

 It's a well known fact that when I was a kid I wanted to grow up to be just like Tina Turner and marry Billy Idol. I decided I wanted to be like Tina the first time I watch Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. She had chain mail clothing and a 5 foot long blond mohawk. In the 80's, it didn't get much cooler than that. And Billy Idol? Well he was just unbelievably hot back then. I pretty much swore off all brunette boys because of him. I'm surprised I married a guy with brown hair actually. At the time I hated the 80's things. But in the past couple years I have found a deep appreciation for the 80's. I'm still not crazy about the fashions (no matter how much money you spent on your clothes they all appeared to be made out of pillow cases), but the pop culture was amazing and I miss it. All those awesome movies. Friday The 13th, Nightmare On Elm St., E.T., The Big Chill, Can't Buy Me Love, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Porky's, Poltergeist, Back To The Future, When Harry Met Sally, Ghostbusters, Stand By Me. I mean, seriously, it was an awesome decade for movies. And the music, I actually only discovered in the last few years. When I was growing up in the 80's my parents only listened to older stuff. I grew up believing that Led Zeppelin was 80's music. I always liked Guns N Roses, Aerosmith, U2, The Cars, and lots of random 1 hit wonders which the 80's seem to be made of. My dad liked rock and my mom liked easy listening. Iin the last few years I've decided I love The Cure, The Velvet Underground, The Smiths, The Clash, The Talking Heads, The B-52s, and Duran Duran. Praise iTunes that I can get on there anytime I'm in the mood for something different and find the 80's stuff because most of the albums were not worth buying as a whole.

Logic Need Not Apply

 Why do people say the phrase "I could care less." Am I the only one who knows this is wrong? It should be "I couldn't care less." Right? And why do people say you're a "reckless" driver? Shouldn't it be "reckful" or some variation of that?  Why is there braille on drive up ATMs? There is a sign on the drive-thru window at McDonalds that says "We have braille menus." How will the people who need braille find out? And why would they be in the drive thru? And how the fuck do they not know what's on a McDonald's menu by now? Why do I get the hiccups everyday of my life? I've got them right now! Why do they say "It's always in the last place you look?" Of course it is, why would you continue looking once you've found it? Psh....
 I'll add more shit to this later...

What The Fuck?

 If the word "Fuck" bothers you, turn away now. I'm a firm believer in the line "If you hit a woman love dies, if you drop a bomb peace dies, but if you say 'fuck' nothing actually happens." I could be safe and say "You know what really grinds my gears?" Psh....not good enough. There's just something about the word "FUCK" that makes me feel justified. Nothing really expresses what I want to say better than that. Nothing. I like to rant. A lot. I cuss a considerable amount when I'm with people who don't mind it. I'm aware that obscenities are unnecessary and out of place for some people. And for others it's completely normal and very necessary. I also realize you can over use curse words and look as if you're too stupid to come up with anything else but a string of profanity. But I think lightly sprinkled in, they get the point across. I cuss more than I should, I am aware. I wouldn't say it defines me, but it is part of who I am. I generally say what people are thinking but don't want to say. You can count on me.

Scorpion Stepping

 When I was 4 or 5 years old I stepped on a scorpion. That's what I'm told at least. No one actually saw what I stepped on, but that's what the doctor decided and who's going to argue with him?
 I was outside helping my dad with the wood. He would split it and I would throw it into the back of the truck. We were doing this because the house we lived in had a wood stove and nothing else. We lived in "The Hobbit House" in Fordland, Missouri. It was referred to "The Hobbit House" by the locals because it had an unusual mushroom shape. Some hippie people built it a long time before. The windows were green because they were made from wine bottles. There was no bathroom so a separate bathhouse was built later. It was mostly wood and had an old dusty termite infested smell. It was built into a hillside in a way that the kitchen was underground and the back door opened behind the hill. I loved this house and if it still stands I would love to see it again. Anyway... because I was apparently the very definition of a "country bumpkin" I did not generally wear shoes. I stepped on something sharp and a little hurty. It didn't hurt much though so I ignored it. I ran into the house for dinner and by the time we sat down to eat the bottom of my foot had become one of those pogo balls. You know, that toy from the 80's that looked like someone took a ball and shoved it through a giant Frisbee and you were supposed to balance on it? Anyway, so the bottom of my foot has a golf ball sized lump protruding from it with bright red lines running from the lump and up my leg. I would later find out this was poison traveling through my veins. It would suffice to say that I wear my damn shoes outside now.