Revelation

I mentioned recently that I had ordered a death certificate from CA for doing genealogy. It arrived in record time.

The certificate was for the older brother of my ill-tempered Greek grandfather who died about 15 years ago. I'd been tracking this uncle online and knew he was having a long life.

My grandfather and his brother had a big falling out in the 50s, so the family divided. For many decades, their father had owned a bar in a tourist town and he had his sons work the business. According to my grandfather, it seemed that the brother was robbing the till, so the father ultimately gave the business to my grandfather, them both of the iron will and nasty disposition.

The brother still lived in the same small town for over a decade more, at least until his children graduated HS, then they all moved to CA. Because of Greek naming patterns, his daughter had the same name as my mother and it really pissed my mother off to be mixed up at school with her apparently slutty cousin. My mother, however, did inherit a good bit of her father's temperament and it was the repressed 50s, so I don't know if my mother's impression of her cousin is deserved.

The other day, I told my mother that the uncle had finally died about two years ago. He was a week shy of 92. She took down the information so she could tell her brother, who also has the same name as this uncle's son.

As of yesterday, I have a few more details I'm not sure I want to pass along, whether they would heal or hurt. I got an online volunteer to seek out his obit, but she couldn't find one on microfilm, just as I couldn't find it online. I knew this uncle worked as an engineer in CA, but this volunteer helped me learn something else of great significance. Without me requesting it, she graciously went by the cemetery listed on the death certificate and looked at the headstones for him and his wife. The carving for him read, "Author Songwriter and Humorist."

It seems that he was the artsy, jokster brother and it makes sense he couldn't function in the (bipolar?) rigidity that was my grandfather's and their father's lives.

I am grateful for this glimpse into my grandfather's brother. You can learn a lot from a death certificate and a willing volunteer.

On the flip side

The irony does not escape me that an armed security guard at a CHURCH took out a gunman. She is the personal security guard for the PREACHER!

The "positive" of this story baffles me more than a bit.

Global O

Did you know there is going to be a 2nd Annual Global Orgasm for Peace day? Errr, moment?

Mark your calendar, but don't save up if you don't want to. Okay, maybe you'll want to practice your timing, as the event is to coincide exactly with the Solstice, December 22 at 6:08 GMT, which translates to Sat 1:08 AM for me.

Well, it's a good idea in theory.

Still single

This was written in the middle of the night. In my effort to take better care of myself, I am remembering to take my supplements, but in opening all the bottles I forgot to do my sleeping pill. So I really didn't take care of myself. Dufus, I didn't realize that was the problem until 3:30. Not a good night and that was reflected in the writing here...

I always torture myself and email this guy who offers up pictures after the singles parties. I guess I've been running one email a month to him asking for the pictures link for events I didn't attend. I told him last month that I was living surreptitiously through him. It's not far from the truth.

Last night, once again for the torture of it, I asked him for pictures. The holiday party was well attended and everyone hammed it up for the camera.

Luke, the Mexican non-Mexican spy guy I dated a year ago, the one who refuses his heritage and martyred himself for his ex and children, was there with his date. This woman I met at a brunch in June. They weren't dating back then. In conversation, she told me that she'd semi-recently had weight loss surgery and, at age 40+, had never really dated or had boyfriends. New to it all, she said she still has the mentality and self esteem/image problems of a very obese woman. No wonder she's dating Luke! He has the self esteem of a squid, but manipulates like a champ. I'm sure he's doing like he tried with me and others - emailing a hand full of women as he hypocritically tries to get her to sever contacts with all other men in her life so she will focus on him. Weasel. I hope it was only a date and they aren't dating. Then again, maybe she likes child-sized penises.

Of course Ted was there, he of the equally child-sized penis. He must have been drunk, as he was dancing. His mouth was wide open, flapping loudly as usual. The guy who had been his best friend, then they broke up as I witnessed the fight last Spring, well, he was there, too. I do not understand their reconciliation which I hear happened around Halloween, as it seems far fetched. (They even went together to a national singles convention in November.) Ted is still a cheap ass user and the other guy is still a drunk. I guess sometimes one must embrace the truth and keep on living. Not for me.

Hey, but who am I to provide commentary on others' lives? I do love blogging!

As anticipated, the two guys I didn't want to see were at the party, so it was a good choice not to go. Given enough liquoring, I'm not sure I wouldn't have tried to talk shop with Luke's date somehow and that wouldn't have been my place. But it would have been fun to see the panic on Luke's face!

And I think Ted would have tried to talk to me, as his other buddy named Ted was there, too. Buddy Ted had told me a few months ago (remember he took me to dinner several times?) that Ted planned to try to make amends somehow, but he was waiting to do it in person. Considering last time we saw each other over the summer, he snuck a peck, I just didn't want the exposure, explanation, or anxiety.

Men sure have rocked my confidence in the last year and a half. I don't see the good in them; they don't hold potential for me. I bear grudges and can't let go. I guess if my trust had not been so betrayed, I wouldn't have this borderline PTSD about men and I would be stronger in general. That's why when I can grasp a sliver of happiness about being single, I devour it. I need to get better about that and about creating my own happiness, which I really do work hard doing; thank goodness for my son. Even so, I live with this paradox of men both making me happy and making me miserable. No wonder I'm confused. I can't seem to reconcile it.

Also, I'm bemoaning a bunch of Mr. Wrongs, which is just inherently wrong. Maybe I should just focus on how small their penises are?

Xmas tree hat, almost

I was a little off again this year. Maybe we'll go back and try one more time.

The many trains are the big draw to this household. Oh, and I didn't take a picture of the fire pit this year. We love soaking up some heat at the big fire pit. It is mesmerizing.

We watched a handbell choir, the members of which were mentally challanged; we enjoyed the music very much. Today, Norma asked me if they were good and I said 'not really' but they were a blast to watch. The director pointed for almost each bell strike; she was one hard working individual. They did many songs. Some sang. The crowd cheered wildly. People loved it and the performers were quite proud. Seems they've been together for years and this was their final performance.

As we were leaving, J thanked me again and again for taking him. He is such a grateful kid. He's a pleasure to take out. I only hope it holds during the teenaged years.

Biding time

It's been all day and I have nothing to say. Or the things I have to say, I do not want to say.

One thing I do want to say is that the single's group had their holiday party last night. Considering that it was $50 to get in and $100 reduced rate for a room, I think it was a healthy decision to not pay $150 to get in the door, not including outfit, gas, food, etc.

The posts today talk about what a grand time it was and I honestly have no regrets spending the weekend with my son instead. The people are odd, very cliquey as they are pseudo welcoming to new people they want to lay, and I feel like I don't fit. There are a bunch of alpha females who make me want to swallow my tongue in anguish; they make me uncharacteristically quiet to where I can't be myself. As I told someone several weeks ago, I also didn't really want to go, because there are no men I want to date in the group. I see one other thing now - there are no men in the group that I have dated who I desire to see again.

Hermit tendencies reinforced mightily.

Inspiration

I needed an idea for blogging today and not fainthearted helped me out. NFh, is there a site to include your blog that you participated as a Saturday Scavenger?

These are photos from my files relating to the word, "light." I chose to make it seasonal, despite my spiritual tendencies.

The first two are from a popular drive-though-just-off-the-interstate phenomenon.




The next two are from the very special tour we got to take last year.




This is where we're going again tonight!

Menorah time

Mom: J, it's not letting me make another video with snowballs. I can't change the characters out.

J: Oh, I really want one with my pets.

Mom: I think I'll do the Jewish one.

J: Why, Mom? We're not Jewish.

Mom: We're not Christian either; it doesn't matter. It's all in good fun.

J: Then why do we celebrate Christmas?

Mom: I resist it. That's why we don't have a tree and I don't decorate. I do it for presents for you.

J: But we're not Christian?

Mom: I'm not, at least. I don't believe in god, although I used to.

J: Oh.

That was a whopper to him, kind of like someone proclaiming that they don't believe in Santa, the kindly grandfather figure. Him being 10, I never considered him thinking or assuming about religion, but I was wrong. He has a stronger identity and affiliation than I realized, which is fine, but it needs to be discussed. I think most of his religious imagery come from visits with ex's Fundamentalist mother, although half his school is Islamic and I figure that religious exposure must play into it, too.

Now what to do?

Hey! Let's be Jewish for a little while! The whole family!

Non-Crappy Starring You! eCards on JibJab

Multimedia holiday

Presentinggggg J-Boy!

Non-Crappy Starring You! eCards on JibJab

We may do the Jewish one next. No disrespect. It's not like were Christian either. heh

(If JibJab is overloaded, try it again later.)

And heeeere's more J-Boy!!
I used the picture thing on Blogger's tool bar to share parade pictures; thanks to those who pointed it out to me.

It's Boomer/Boumer, J in the Santa hat, and another Cricketson boy. Plus some beautiful architecture.

Dodging eggshells

I saw Junebug last night.

Gosh, I loved Amy Adams' character. I could see where she'd play a Disney princess.

The movie was set in NC, which isn't far from where I'm from. The people were so familiar, even if the accents were fake.

The family was like too many. They're telling instead of asking people. And they never listen. They're bubbles that bounce off each other, but never merge. Chips on the shoulder and woundedness are the norms.

It was eggshells. Nobody really wanted to set the other off, so nobody connected. They loved each other in the most hollow of ways, but it was the best they could do.

I have a bad habit. It's especially at issue in the holiday season, although I talk about it in therapy almost each week in one form or another. I always make others out to be happier than I am, thinking that the rest of the world boasts sparkling existences while I waste away in loneliness. Other people have perfect, thoughtful spouses and they truly communicate effectively about everything. They have beautiful homes and rich lives, lots of friends and family they actually want to spend time visiting. They take trips and cull fascinating ways to spend their time. And they produce the exact number of children they want.

I've made P's ill-fated, jiffy marriage out to be all happy and shiny. Given the man who went into it, there's no way it isn't full of eggshells, known or unknown to his poor wife, but that's my head talking. In my anxious and sad heart, he's so happy without me. Rainbows and sunshine. Everything came together for him in bliss. I was the fool who patiently waited so long for him, then he finally got it together with someone else reaping the rewards. I am not over this hurt. But I know he's not really together, either.

During the movie, I remembered those eggshells, though; it flooded back what it felt like when I was with him, his daughter, and his parents. I had to acquiesce to the princess and tried to zip it around his mother. Everybody else's peace was more important than mine. I was pragmatically polite, honest without judging. I was the glue until I finally blew, then they didn't understand me in that role.

I know there is actually no real family life with him. Their cute house's exterior hides a lot of misery. Although he's full of superficial laughter and fun, his life didn't suddenly become joyful and his daughter mature. He's a tortured soul.

But he has a mate and I don't. So that casts it all pretty.

However, re-experiencing the eggshells, the land mines just waiting to explode, I had a sense of relief in being free. My house isn't like that. My son and I have no eggshells. Not having a man in my life makes it easier. I appreciate the purity and the lack of complication. I don't have gnawing in the pit of my stomach that I've made a mistake or might make someone angry inadvertently. I don't have to decide when to speak up and when to hold my tongue, a frustrating dilemma when I'm in a relationship.

I like not having eggshells. I am awkward enough without someone else imposing their issues.

Does this make sense to you? How shiny is your life? How many eggshells to you dodge? How sensitive are you to eggshells, or do you really care?

Few more bits

J and I watched A Charlie Brown Christmas last night on TV. Then there was another version at 8:30 and ABC advertised a third version for next Monday. Where have I been? How could I have missed so many Charlie Browns? That hockey player Schroeder was sexy. Lucy thought so, too.

``

I had to cut down my apple tree in August; it was so laden with fruit that it was tipping over. Aesthetically, I have missed the tree tremendously. My flat yard looks ghetto to me now. With this weather, I am appreciating what a wind break it was. My windows keep vibrating.

``
Speaking of games, my mother sent me this link to a game that's, um, very relaxing. Try it. NSFW

``

In my quest to find different types of blogs, I've in part gone the single woman and mental illness routes. Mental illness is something I largely ignore here and try to ignore in general. It is no fun feeling depressive and I hide it very well if I burrow myself away as I'm apt to do. In fact, my therapist, who said last year that I am not as ill as I thought I was, told me last week after nine years together that she doesn't feel like she knows me or my darkness. Nor do you, folks. I've tried. Needing support unfortunately has the paradoxical effect of scaring people away.

However, I plan to let others speak for me as I come upon the apropos. Here is a post that describes single woman social awkwardness and isolation to a T and another that describes the 'shit, it happened again' aspect of having a mouth and a mental illness. Please read them.

``

Booger child found one of my Xmas present stashes. He had the good graces to look while I was around and I just let him snoop upstairs and down. Then I heard the sound of that particular cabinet and I knew I was busted. (The wide double doors won't stay closed, so there are two drumsticks threaded through the handles to keep Spenc.er out. High tech living, I tell ya.)

Merely mentioning it is an understatement, but my kitchen is old and poorly designed. One corner has the dishwasher to one side, then lots of dead space going back to the walls. I've hidden presents there for years. Alas, my secret is out. At least they're all still in the delivery boxes, thanks to "Amazon" with a thousand boxes that came. He was awed by the numbers, which is a good thing, green or not, and has been sworn to not touch. Or shake.

``

Seems I am a "joiner" this season. I decided to submit my "best" of the year at the lovely Stirrup Jester place. You should do the same. I figured an infertility post would suit the audience most. And besides, commenters called my post a great one. I don't know if "best" applies exactly, but it is heartfelt and ever so thorough as I am wont to be. So there.



(Bandwidth...sorry!)

Off to get my passport renewal photos taken!

Ode to Spenc.er

,

Spenc.er is a couch cat. His previous owner told me as much. Problem is, I am rarely on the couch, me not being the TV sort. Occasionally, I'll sit on the couch and watch TV just so Spenc.er can curl up and get his fix.

Speaking of fix, what I would like to fix are Spenc.er's eating and pooping habits. He eats constantly and it has to go someplace! I buy Nutro hard food, because it is supposed to be consumed less and pooped less, but I don't find that here.

Even though he was supposedly about 18 months old when we got him, he's grown tremendously since he's been here. I think it must be because there are no 120 lb dogs chasing him like there were at his last place.

Ahh, back to the poop. He's a digger and spends a lot of time in the litter box. He rips the plastic liner off the sides of the litter box to where he'll do his business on top of the liner instead of in it. When we go out of town, that's all I really need Norma to do - pull the liner back up and she is so gracious for doing just that. I have found some rather expensive liners with elastic that grip the litter pan better, but even they can not stand up to Spenc.er the Digger.

I guess when you get a cat that is rejected by another home, even though she said she was paring down due to too many animals for their HOA, you have to assume there were some problems. As it was, he was a rescue for her, a rescue volunteer.

In his last home, I think he was accustomed to fending for his life with the dogs. There was another cat, but they didn't get along. With the babies and babysitting, it was quite a loud place, chaos. I can see where Spenc.er is aggressive now. He needed somehow to hold his spot.

Rare moment of sweetness

I am not quite sure how many parts it is aggression it is vs. playfulness. When he chases Memph!s, he is usually galloping, as if he's not really serious. Memph!s takes it very serious, though, so that's what gives me my more negative impression. Memph!s, who took a few months to get mad enough, now hisses regularly at Spenc.er. I'm not sure how much a smack down goes on, as much occurs under the bed when Memph seeks refuge, but I don't think Spence really hurts him. Well, except for when Memph always bangs his head as he's trying to hide.

The other thing is that Memphie is a head bangin purrer. He paces when he gets petted and purrs. He bonks his head into things. Many times in affection, Memph has bonked Spence who was watching from the opposite end of the bed. Of course, Spence did not take it well and railed on Memph. Faulty kitty communication.

Despite all this, Spence wins my heart. At night, when he settles and stops bugging Memphie, he sleeps right at my feet, to where I don't have anyplace to put my feet. Occasionally, I kick him off by accident, but usually I draw my legs up or I sleep catty wampus across the bed.

I've woken a few times to his snuggling next to me during the night. Seeings how it is hard to get him out of his corner of the bed, it is surprising. That's one thing he usually seems to do - let Memph have the rest of the bed as his domain.

Sometimes in the office, he'll steal my seat when I get up. He won't move for love or money once he claims it for himself. I'll sit on him and he still finds a way to cling to his territory.

He also likes to lay near my feet when I am in the office chair. This has led to inadvertently kicking, but he doesn't care, just like he doesn't care if we're walking through a tight space where he's laying. We must step over him, he will not move preventatively. I think he hasn't been stepped on enough to know pain.

Like Memph, the world's softest cat who always smells faintly of cinnamon, Spenc.er loves to have his belly rubbed. He hikes up his leg to invite and facilitate. He also likes to have the base of his back/tail rubbed, him curling his expressive tail like a cork screw.

Spencie is a real talker. His last owner called it singing. He's going constantly, always has a greeting. He has one low and sweet coo-coo-coo call for Memph as he circles the bed. Sometimes I think he's trying to lure call Memph out to play. When he's downstairs and I am up, he has the most forlorn, extended call, which I am sure he uses when we're gone. He is a very social cat, always wanting company.

A few weeks ago, I removed the collar from Memph!s so that the bell would be gone. Spenc.er noticed it the first hour, I swear. At least now, Memph!s can track Spenc.er, but Spenc.er has a harder time with Memph!s. Memph!s now has a fighting chance to eat. I do not know how he maintains his weight, as he rarely leaves my bedroom or eats. I also do not know how he holds his bladder and bowels. In all the months we've had him, I've only seen him in the litter box once.

A good habit, Spenc.er loves his scratching post I got off of Freecycle. There are little bits of carpet everywhere. A nail sharpening king, he also loves the horizontal cardboard scratchers. Next to pooping and running around madly, sharpening is his favorite thing.

Okay, he also really likes being by me and often follows me around, chattering away with his tail held high and a crook in the end, as if I am his pair bond, even though J considers him his cat. Spence really is a sweetie, but he would be much better in a one cat household with someone who doesn't use litter box liners.

Some of our SOMC contributions:

Red-faced woman

[INSERT GORGEOUS PICTURE OF BOOMER/BOUMER THE SHELTIE WEARING RED REINDEER ANTLERS AND SITTING PRETTY BEFORE THE PARADE.]

I am sick of Blogger and Picasa. It is spilling over and became my post instead of lovely parade pictures.

I despise that I cannot simply download a stellar picture of Boomer/Boumer from a fellow Cricketson's email, create a file for it in Picasa, then actually be able to find that file or picture. Oh, they show up in Windows, but Picasa fails to recognize these plain Jane jpgs, although strangely the file shows up in Picasa's file manager. It knows it's there, but it refuses to show it.

[INSERT FUN PICTURE OF J AND ANOTHER CRICKETSON BOY MID-PARADE AS J LET THE OTHER BOY WALK BOOMER/BOUMER. EX IS IN THE BACKGROUND.]

This only happened with the latest upgrade a few months ago. I keep waiting on them to correct it, but it hasn't happened.

I also despise that the Blogger uploading tool is hit or miss. Often times, it just gets lost. Further, the save for later thing doesn't usually work, so I have to do a post of only pictures, then work to compile the rest of the post. I dislike that while choosing and uploading a picture, the computer is locked and I cannot gather information or links from other locations. As a result, I must edit the incompletely uploaded picture post.

I think Google has it all wrong if they think Picasa works well with Blogger. I can't use half the pictures I want. I steal bandwidth as a result; it's the only way I can get anything off the web. Frustratingly, when I get emails of photos from friends, I can't download them into Picasa, so they are not being organized with the rest of my photos. Essentially, if I didn't take the picture, I lose the record of the event.

I don't have a NaBloPoMo "I succeeded" badge because I can't download it and I don't want to steal bandwidth. This is serious stuff, folks! (If you have it and don't mind ifI steal bandwidth, please let me know.)

[INSERT PHOTO FROM BEHIND AS J AND BOY WALKING BOOMER/BOUMER HAVE PASSED BY. LOVE THE ARCHITECTURE ON THIS ONE.]

One other Blogger thing: my save for later feature does not work as I compose. It isn't saving the post for me as I go in case of a crash and it locks up if I try to make it save for me. I now compose all my posts in Yahoo emails over time, then cut and paste it to Blogger, inserting links and correcting the format. I have to publish directly. Although I can generally find a way around the snafu, but it sure does get old.

But I can't find a way around the picture snafu. For this photo bug, it is a glaring problem and it impacts my quality of life and blogging. (Going for the drama there!)

ETA - Thanks for your input about the header, Ron and Semavi Lady. I couldn't find the picture line to input to center it, but I did uncenter the copy, so at least the header is readable, even if it isn't that pretty. I hope Blogger figures this one out, too. Bugs me that they messed things up.

Little bits

As I was getting J off to school yesterday, he was pulling odd papers out of his backpack from the day before. One was a social studies test, 20/22, A. We'd studied hard for that one before Thanksgiving.

The other was a math test, 14/24, U which = F. He had not even looked at it since receiving it, assured that he had a good grade like usual. There was a sticker for me to sign it. J was gobsmacked. "But I'm good at math," he declared, incredulous. After signing it, I wrote, "Is there something he can do to make this up?" "Yeah, yeah, write that, Mom. Write that."

He's never failed a test before. I don't quite know what to do. It isn't the easiest thing in the world getting him to do math homework, but he does okay. Maybe he'll be a little more motivated now, although he did get B on his last report card. Now I have to wonder if he should not be in gifted math. The test was just multiplication and division, stuff he definitely knows. If you could only see how neatly and carefully it was done. He desperately does not want to be a bad student. I cannot punish him.

``

Last night I went to see Dan in Real Life. It was supposed to be a feel good movie with a happy ending. While better than something like The Family Stone because it had the good graces to not to be set at Xmas, it was still a little too 'perfect family' for me - we all love/hate each other so we can ultimately hate/love each other - and we offer/accept lectures from one another because we really communicate/listen. Okay, I'm jealous. I'd love to be in a family that accepted me and my feedback, introverted social retard that I am, people who cared enough to speak up.

``

Today will be an entertaining day. We are going to be in a parade with the Cricketson clan. It is only our second year marching, so we're encouraged to invite other warm bodies to join us. Last year, Norma and her son came. This year, they can't, but - get this - ex, his wife, their 2yo and her 17yo, plus Boomer/Boumer, the Sheltie, will be coming. It certainly extends the definition of family, but I guess it is in a good, healthy thing for J.

When I mentioned it to my psychiatrist yesterday, she asked how I felt about the crowd and I replied, "The more the merrier." Then she pressed, knowing me, "And the two year old?" I could honestly say that I got much of that reconciled this summer somehow. Or the toddler did it for me and de-iced my cold heart. The little girl has such a bright smile and is so friendly and engaging that I cannot help myself. She likes me! When she reaches for my hand, it melts my being. Sometimes I find myself lost and gazing at her in awe, then I suddenly get blisteringly angry at ex for denying me that, but I don't hold it against her anymore. I've grown a little.

``

I got a little card in the mail yesterday. It's a simple thing most folks take for granted, the jiffy way my OB's office notifies about paps. Turns out mine is normal and I don't need to go back for 12 months. Normal is a very nice thing after not-so-normal with lots of follow ups. Now I can cruise for a while. Gladly.

``

I went a little crazy ordering Xmas for J after Thanksgiving. I got some extra things to give him later for our drive down on the cruise, too. Much is coming from Amazon, but it isn't really Amazon. Seems they've outsourced their stock, which means you pay shipping from all seven of the suppliers that you inadvertently ordered from. I wish this had been more clear as I was placing the order. More would have been on the Toys R Us order instead. And then these "Amazon" purchases wouldn't be arriving one at a time, which I am finding irritating as well. It's a huge waste of boxes and shipping. It's just not green.

``

I got a Xmas present a little early. The other night, J and I went for pizza. He'd decided in advance that we'd get the Greek pizza, he of the pepperoni persuasion usually. He was quite pleased with himself, thinking it big of him to request what ol' Ma would want. When asked repeatedly as his pride spilled over, I replied that it was really special that we could share something together that we both like and that he was being very considerate about it. He beamed as I confirmed what he already knew. He's maturing and less selfish. Gosh, he is a great kid, even if he failed that damn math test.