Success

Seems everyone around me lately is enjoying immense personal & professional success. The husband came back from a trade show with an expensive watch for being a top salesperson in the country with one of the manufacturers he deals with and a big job offer from another. I have a couple of friends who have been recognized/rewarded/promoted/bonused in their jobs as well, and a bunch of friends who are getting married, having babies, buying houses...just good things happening all around me. It's kind of weird how it's all happening at once, but I guess this is how it goes when you're approaching your early 30's; shit starts to come together. Good for them.

Most of the success I've had in my life has been directly related to school. Scholarships, Dean's List, double majors, blah blah blah. I started having kids before I'd even finished undergrad, so I never had a chance to build a career like my friends have. Having just recently forayed into the professional world, I'm sure it will be quite a while before I make any kind of impression, but I can't help but feel like I'm behind.

Logically, I know that I put all of that aside to raise a family, and that it's not like I'm some slacker, but I'm finding that part of me has this need to be constantly overachieving. If someone isn't petting me on the head and telling me I did a good job, I don't feel like I am. Sick, right? I have 2 college degrees, I'm raising 3 children & working full time, yet I still feel like I haven't done enough with my life thus far. I'm starting to think that I'm slightly mental, and not in a "funny haha" kinda way.

I'm not jealous in the least, and I'm genuinely happy for everybody...but it's all making me that much more aware of what I'm doing (and not doing) with my own life. And of course my natural reaction is to go back to school. See? M E N T A L.

The husband says I'm a glutton for punishment, but what can I say; the MBA is calling my name.

"K...come get me...I'll pet you on the head and tell you that you're doing a good job..."

Fucking mental. That's me.

Dumb Shit is home; Grandma Hooters improving

So I found my dog.


Dumb ass was picked up about a block away from my house. Some kind hearted soul found him, didn't want him to get run over, but couldn't hang around for animal control...so she stuffed him into a Bank of America ATM and went on her way. To think I drove past that plaza 3 times and never looked in the direction of the ATM.

The city pinched me for $170 between room, board and the associated leash law fine. Needless to say, the husband is beefing up yard security when he comes back from his business trip.

Grandma is better. She's out of ICU, has her wits about her, and could very well be heading into rehab in the near future. So we'll see. Thank you all for keeping her in your thoughts.

This week has been the suck. I think I'll be taking a trip or two...or ten...to Long Island this weekend.

Regret

Grandma isn't well at all. The next 72 hours will tell us exactly how much improvement she will be capable of, and will give us the information we need to make important decisions.

This all started Thursday afternoon at about 2pm. Grandma knew she was having a stroke, but for some reason called nobody. My cousin showed up a few hours later, just to check on her, and called the ambulance as soon as she realized that Gram couldn't speak. At the hospital, they ran a cat scan, some blood work, etc. and didn't see any blockages or bleeds right off the bat, leading them to conclude that she perhaps had had a mini stroke. They gave her an aspirin, some tylenol, and a sedative and put her to bed. I left her resting comfortably at about 1am; by 7:30am, she'd had another stroke, this time major. Nobody knows exactly what time it occurred, as she was not hooked up to a monitor overnight, but by the time anybody realized what had happened, it was too late.

As it turns out, her carotid artery was 100% blocked. The doctor insists that this would have happened whether they had known about the blockage the night before or not. My father has already called a lawyer, but from where I stand, the damage is done, and this is what 60 years of 3 packs a day will get you. It's horribly sad, but the spectre of "I told you so" can't help but loom in the background.

As I tend to do, I've been beating myself up a bit. I should have stayed with her overnight. I should have spent more time with her lately. The last time I saw her was Christmas, and I was mad at her at the time because she had been so rude to everyone. If I hadn't been such a bitch, maybe I would have equated her change in personality to something being terribly wrong with her.

I could go on all day about how I feel I contributed to the situation, but again, the damage is done. Truth be told, we've all been on her ass to see the doctor and get a full work-up, but she's been putting it off. "If there's something wrong with me, I don't wanna know." Classic avoidance, the calling card of my family. A family full of fucking ostriches; Christ, you think we'd learn that it gets us nowhere fast. Mildly retarded does not begin to describe.

On top of everything else, my dog is missing. My son didn't close the gate last night, and out he went. Now I have to spend tomorrow putting up flyers and calling shelters. Like I really want to be dealing with this.

Pity, party of one, your table is ready.

Shit.

Grandma Hooters had a major stroke today. She can't use her left side at all.


I'm a realist, and I certainly realize that this is the beginning of the end. I'm just praying that she isn't suffering, and that she can pass on peacefully, because I know she wouldn't want to linger like this. If you can, please pray for the same.

F Christmas Anyway.

As per usual, my holidays have thus far been completely disastrous. My die-hard fans surely remember last year's debacle (available in the archives), and my family, true to form, did not disappoint in the way of shenanigans this year either.

I started writing this the day after Christmas, but have only had time to finish it this evening. I apologize to all 10 of you that still read this for the delay.

December 23rd:

Stayed up until 3am wrapping presents...but that was actually more enjoyable than usual, as I busted out a bottle of booze and got shitty while laughing uproariously at Clerks 2.

Buffalo Bill Dance


Hilarious. Mental note to get drunk again while wrapping every year from now on.

December 24th:

This year it was decided that Christmas Eve festivities would take place at my aunt' s house, as opposed to the nicotine-soaked abode of Grandma Hooters. I was pretty psyched, as Grandma's house is really, really small and even if you only spend 2 minutes standing in the doorway, you will have to wash your coat of the smoky stench as soon as you get home. Auntie's house is big, smoke-free, and has a racist African Grey Parrot for amusement. Perfect. Into the car we piled, to Auntie's house we went.

Grandma didn't show up for about 2 hours, and when she did, was she in a fucking foul mood. Everything annoyed her, from the selection of food to the color of the chair she was sitting on. She had nothing good to say, and refused to open her presents, barking at my cousin to put them in the car. The worst part was when she called the 7 year old daughter of my Godmother "a little bitch" within earshot of the kid's father because she was running around playing with the rest of the children. She only stayed for about 90 minutes, and demanded to be taken home. As the door slammed behind her, we damn near cheered, and continued on with a semi-normal family party.

By the end of the night, 2 of my kids ended up falling into the pool (thank God for those elephant covers, they ended up wet and not drowned). Thankfully, Little Bitch's mother got my kids clothes, so they didn't have to go home naked. Mental note not to leave my 20-something cousins in charge of my children ever again.

December 25th:

The kids were pretty good, they didn't drag us out of bed until about 8...yes, they are quite well trained. They tore at their presents for about an hour, completely ignored the robotic dog that cost us an arm and a leg, and then started demanding food. The husband had just finished making breakfast when the phone rang...the caller ID read "Unknown." Now, this usually means that we're a week late on the mortgage, or that somebody from India wants to sell us an extended warranty on one of our Dells, but seeing as it was Christmas I figured that couldn't be the case, so what did I do? I answered it. I fuckin' answered it. Stupid ass.

K: "Hello?"
Female Voice: "K?"
K: [silence. shit shit shit double motherfucking shit.] "Hi Mom."

As you are probably aware, I haven't spoken to my mother in almost 3 years. Long story short, she insulted my children and I basically told her to fuck herself sideways. She's blown off the "K Family Annual FA RA RA RA RA Chinese Food Extravaganza" for the last 3 years due to our falling out, but this year she apparently decided to come on down. Great. Fucking great.

You'd think that after 3 years, she'd be maybe a bit reserved in our first conversation...oh no. Guns blazing. She actually yelled at me.

Mom: "I JUST GOT OFF THE PHONE WITH MY FATHER."
K: "Uh. And?"
Mom: "HE SEEMS TO THINK I SHOULDN'T COME TO DINNER BECAUSE YOU'LL BE UPSET!"
K: "Look, I've made it clear to all involved that it doesn't bother me if you come to dinner."
Mom: "WELL THEN YOU NEED TO CALL HIM."
K: "Uh. Ok."
Mom: "AND CALL YOUR AUNT TOO, SHE DOESN'T WANT ME THERE EITHER."
K: "Uh. Ok. Just head down, I'm sure it'll be fine."
[click]

Fuck fuck fuckity motherfuck. How this became my problem I'll never know...

Aunt: "Hello?"
K: "Hi. It's K. I just talked to Mom."
Aunt: "SHE'S NOT RUINING MY FUCKING CHRISTMAS WITH HER BULLSHIT DRAMA. I'M NOT GOING."
K: "WHAT?"
Aunt: "I CAN'T BE BOTHERED."
K: "Please, don't leave me alone with her."
Aunt: "THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY. I'VE HAD IT WITH HER SHIT."
K: "Please please please..."
Aunt: [click]

Bitch! I called Grandpa...

G: "Hello?"
K: "Hi. It's K."
G: "Hey baby! How are ya?"
K: "I just heard from Mom. I guess she's coming to dinner."
G: "Oh yeah...for chrissake, she's changed her mind about 3 times in the last 24 hours..."
K: "Well I just wanna make sure that you know I'm ok with it."
G: "Well good. I did tell her that she should call you first."
K: "Ok. So I'll see you there."
G: "Goddammit, I just wanna eat some friggin' food and see my family. I don't want fighting."
K: "You won't get any from me, believe me. I think it's retarded. Bye Gramps."
G: "Bye baby." [click]

Then I tried the Aunt back, hoping she'd calmed down...fat fuckin' chance.

A: "K, I'm not going."
K: "Please. Please don't leave me alone with her. Grandpa's fine with it."
A: "I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK. I'M NOT GOING."
K: "Don't do this to me."
A: "I'M OPENING PRESENTS WITH MY SON AND I'M THROUGH WITH THIS SHIT." [click]

Great. I got dressed, bid the husband and kids adieu as they headed to the father in law's house, and set off to face the music.

My Aunt ended up showing, albeit a half hour late...she just had to dig her heels in, make it clear that she wasn't pleased. As soon as she showed up, she started torturing the waitress.

A: "THIS ISN'T THE TABLE I RESERVED."
W: "Excuse me?"
A: "This table sucks. We can't hear the Christmas music, and it's too far away from the buffet. We need to move."
W: [looks at the rest of us, confused, as we already had our plates and drinks]
K: [waving her off and smiling] "We don't need to move. We're fine, really."
A: "NO WE'RE NOT."
K: [makes crazy sign behind Aunt's head] "I don't think that's necessary, do you?"
A: "YES."
K: [through gritted teeth] "If that will make you happy, fine."
A: "I'LL BE PLENTY HAPPY WHEN I'M STUFFING MY FACE FULL OF CRAB RANGOON."
K: [smiling brightly] "Believe me, I want nothing more than for your mouth to be full, Auntie."

The rest of the dinner went fine, as the Aunt got her way and had no more reason to berrate the waitress. Conversation was stilted, but we all pretended to like each other and got through it without major incident. I said goodbye to my mother, who promised to call me next week.

Fuck. I have to keep talking to her now. Son of a bitch!

I resolved to think about that tomorrow.

I left the Chinese place and headed to the father in law's house, where I managed to find some holiday spirit after polishing off the better part of a bottle of Kahlua.

Never was I so relieved for Christmas to be over as I was when I collapsed into bed that night. Next year, I'm staying home, and everyone can kiss my ass. Christmas sucks.