Hide The Mess

whatchu talkin' bout

Today is Veterans Day and even though it's no longer a paid holiday for me (the company that bought my company doesn't observe all federal holidays. Butt-holes.) I took a vacation day instead so I'm off. And my kid is in daycare today. I have guilt about that, but I am trying to solider through it. He likes daycare, he has fun and plays with toys and friends and they have story time and all kinds of fun stuff. But I have moments where I'm like: Awww I miss my baby, I'm going to go get him right now. Even though I can't actually do that because I have not showered and am generally not fit to be seen in public. Already this morning I have done a wee bit of work (I know, I know, I should not, but ... whatever. I'm responsible sometimes.), hit the treadmill and ran two miles, which sounds kinda lame, but it's what I could do in 30 min. I've run the vacuum and I've put some shit in the attic that has been sitting out for entirely too long. I also have a load of laundry in the dryer. So productive!

Tomorrow we are going to have Christmas card pictures taken. We say every year that we're going to mail Christmas cards and we never do, so this year, we are doing it GODDAMN IT. My husband is so funny sometimes about this stuff. I want us all to just wear jeans and a solid (possibly Christmas colored) t-shirts and be casual because that is who we are about 90% of the time. My husband thought we would all dress up because he is from the 1950's and has this weird idea about pictures and thinks you should dress up for them. We aren't dressing up though, because I said so. ha. Seriously. I do not want to wear a dress on a Saturday, nor do I have any dressy clothes for the kid, so it would mean going and buying something new that he would wear one time and that's it. Also, I would need to buy something new for myself and that's a big negative on that. If I'm going to buy clothes for myself, I want to buy jeans or something that can pull double duty for work and home. Not some stupid dress that I'm going to wear one time. Forget that. We'll find a compromise somewhere, or I will just impose my will because in this area, I call the shots. If it weren't for me, this shit wouldn't even be happening. He'll thank me for it later. Maybe. Hopefully.

Oy vey, I can't get all that Jerry Sandusky news out of my head. I wish I didn't know anything about it. It's so horrible. It makes me sick. What I am having the most trouble wrapping my brain around is the young man who witnessed the sexual assault of the young boy and instead of stepping in RIGHT THEN and calling the damn police, he reported the incident internally. WTF. Who does that? Who sees that and doesn't, at that moment, step in and stop the raping of a 10 year old boy? It is the part of the story that I can't get out of my head. What kind of people are these? Who doesn't want to step in and stop that kind of thing when they see it happening right in front of them? Who only reports it internally? I do not understand. And I guess there are things I'll never know, maybe there are more pieces here that I haven't read but honestly, on it's face, the dude who walked in, saw it happening and only reported it to his boss, is just as guilty. Ugh. I wish I'd never read any of this shit. It turns my stomach.

So I don't end on that disgusting note here's something else:

I am running a 5K with my sister next week and I'm totally not prepared. I've hit the treadmill TWICE. And to top things off, after the race, that evening, we are going to my brother in law's 50th birthday party. I am going to be the walking dead next Sunday. Good times!

wildlife & melancholy

The news story about a wild baby deer jumping into the lion enclosure makes me sad every time I think about it. Sad for the baby deer, sad for all the people who watched that happen and sad for that lioness. You know she thought she was going to get a delicious snack and was DENIED. I wish I hadn't see the video, because now it's forever inside my head.

A book I'm reading, Water For Elephants, is making me melancholy. I have trouble with circuses, I've seen too many undercover reports on the horrific abuse some of those animals endure (thanks a lot tabloid tv!), and while this book doesn't detail any specific abuse, sometimes what isn't said, or what is simply alluded to makes what happens inside my brain even worse.

Actually, I think that book is just giving me an excuse to feel melancholy. Sometimes I just want to feel sad, so I will read things or watch things or listen to music that reduces me to tears simply because I want the specific release of sadness. There are authors who do that to me, who write in such a way that it's as if whatever is happening in the book is happening to me. I don't necessarily feel that way about Water For Elephants, but I have a feeling when I'm finished an Elizabeth Berg book will find its way into my hands. I think I have everything she's written and I'm pretty sure every one of her books has made me cry. I remember the first time The BFF and I read Talk Before Sleep, oh sweet Lord Jesus did we cry. Actually, sobbed is more like it. Just thinking about it makes me want to read it again. Maybe I'll just pull down all of her books and re-read them. She is such a beautiful, gifted writer. She does what I wish I could do. I have writers envy, but in the best, most positive way.

I am off work today, it's Veterans Day and so you know, bank holiday. It's weird to have a Wednesday off though. It sort of makes it feel like there are two Mondays or something. But I am not complaining. I need some time off. So today I will meet The BFF at the gym, I will attempt to lift weights, which I hate with a passion and then I will come home and unpack some pictures and get them on our barren walls. Finally!

I Was Chosen!

So I got this letter from the US Census Bureau giving me a heads up that I'd been chosen to participate in some American Community Survey, like it's an honor or something. But it's mandatory to participate and not at all like being chosen to participate in some wild and wacky game show involving a wheel, some letters, and a very old piece of eye candy for the turning of said letters, and really the eye candy? it's less like candy you bought at the store yesterday and more like candy you found under the couch when you were moving that is approximately 10 years past its expiration date, if you know what I mean, and I think you do (VANNA) but still, that kind of "you're chosen" sounds fun (letters & and a wheel people!) and well, there are prizes and money, but this is a little different with the whole "You are required by law to respond to this survey." caveat. So I checked the mail every day, waiting, waiting, waiting ... and when it finally arrived it turns out that it is very, very boring. Or I am very, very boring. Which is highly likely, but still! they sent me that sort of 'save the date' letter to let me know I was going to get this important survey and it turned out it was just a bunch of boring questions about my age, martial status, income, how much my electric bill was last month (?) and my plumbing situation (seriously) and I resisted the urge to spice up my answers and make myself WAY more successful, rich and insane than I really am. The whole required by law thing made me nervous that if I answered all smart-alecky I would have a penalty imposed (up to $5,000 ... damn, they are not MESSING AROUND) and I do not think I would enjoy that one bit. The upside ... I'm a glass-is-half-full type girl ... is that for a couple of days I felt special because I'd been chosen. And after being picked last for every possible thing you can think of it was nice to be scientifically selected to represent my community.

Dear Oprah

Dear Oprah,

I love you, but stop it. It’s a book for Christ’s sake and if you think that none of your guests over the last 20 years haven’t sat in your studio and LIED TO YOUR FACE and BETRAYED YOUR AUDIENCE you have taken one too many crazy pills, because um, hi! you interview CELEBRITIES and like, their whole job is make believe and also? self righteous is NOT a good color on you.

So just leave James Frey alone. He simply wrote a book, and I don’t know if you’re going to be surprised by this, but most books, yes, even those classified as memoirs, contain made up stuff. It’s called creative license. It’s called telling a good fuckin’ story, and regardless of how interesting your life is, one day, when you write an official memoir, (what is out there now are unauthorized biographies and another book but I can’t tell if it’s technically a memoir) and you will because you are awesome, and when you write it you’ll discover that sometimes the facts are boring, or don’t create a cohesive story so you’ll blend events, eliminate some things that aren’t really relevant and exaggerate or even fabricate some other stuff. But it’ll still be YOUR story. I happened to have liked A Million Little Pieces, I read it before it became all popular with your book club and not once did I think “he’s making it up”. You know why? Because I ASSUMED he was making some of it up, it’s what writers do, regardless of the genre.

Now you get back to being your awesome self and I’ll forget this little incident ever happened.

Love You.
Mean it.
Kiss Kiss.

Tina

I Wasn't Going To Watch

I did the thing I swore I wouldn’t do. I watched hours worth of news coverage on the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. Until now I’ve really tried not to watch very much. And not because I don’t care, it’s just that I can  only let in so much sadness.  The days following the September 11th attacks I stuffed my brain with every form of information available (and there was a staggering amount) and the result was a heavy sadness that stayed with me for months. Now I try to prevent that and still not ignore the important & significant events happening around me.  But that isn’t always easy to filter through since I have cable and access to a constant stream of news, pictures, stories and opinions.  Yesterday  I just sort of let myself get sucked into it. And it’s overwhelmingly sad and I find myself looking for the stories that center around communities pulling together here in Texas and trying not to take in too much of the heartbreak that covers the gulf coast. I get frustrated with our ‘media’ … and it’s in quotes for a reason because they do more editorializing and yellow journalism  than actual news reporting,  and  I get frustrated with all of the focus on looting and the crimes being committed. It’s disturbing,  not just because it’s happening but because it’s the only thing deemed newsworthy.  God. And it’s not just the violence but it’s the interviews with people who are now out of New Orleans  and in shelters across Texas. Their pain is exploited and the more interviews they show the sicker I feel.  I just can’t take a steady diet of the sadness, the violence and the tragedy.  And I can’t take the constant need to assign blame. I actually heard a DJ on the radio say that the United States government’s response to the situation in New Orleans was just like the response to Rwanda in 1994. The complete and utter ignorance of that statement is mind blowing. To compare the genocide of 800,000 people to the looting and crime in New Orleans is a slap in the face to the people of Rwanda. I get that this DJ was trying to compare the response of the federal government and not necessarily the events, but to even draw a comparison, on any level,  is a show of ignorance and insensitivity of the highest order.   Honestly, the response of the federal and local governments isn’t even the issue.  The issue is that we’ve now seen first hand that  when left to our own devices, when the rule of law is removed and consequences are no longer a threat,  people … in the United States where we believe  we are superior in so many ways … people will show you who they really are. They reveal where they are in  evolutionary process and some are stuck in the infant stages of development, where the Id  (as in the Id, Ego & Super Ego) is calling all the shots.  The whole thing creates this conflict of emotion in me, because in one moment I am so very sad, so very sorry, and feel so very helpless and in the next moment I am pissed right off at the attempts to make this a political issue, to actually blame The President … honestly? What the fuck? How is it the fault of one individual that thousands of people did not evacuate when warned? How is it the fault of one individual that some of those who didn’t evacuate COULDN’T?  Let’s own the truth for once. We are a reactionary people who do not plan. We  do not want to hold ourselves accountable, because I’m telling you …  there was time to plan, there was time to make arrangements, not just in the days leading up to Katrina’s landfall, but in the YEARS leading up to it.  So to play the blame game,  and the victim now only highlights how very spoiled, immature and short sighted we’ve become and we have no one to blame but ourselves for that.   I can’t begin to understand what it must feel like to be one of the thousands sitting in a shelter this morning, the future uncertain, their lives forever changed, and the journey toward a new normal ahead of them. But  I do know that miracles are on their way to restore all that is broken.