Life: Mission Impossible

Another week, another rant.

This rant may seem a little sad and depressing. I don't really have anything else to rant about today so I figured I would just bitch and moan a little. And I'm just too tired to try to make these problems sound funny. Please excuse the vagueness of the context. I don't know who reads this thing anymore, if anyone. But just in case, I need to protect the identity of the less innocent.

So is it just me, or does life just seem to have unanswerable questions sometimes? When a situation arises that really truly has no solution, what do you do? And I am not talking about just a tough choice, but an impossible choice.

What frustrates the hell out of me more is because of my previously mentioned "overactive imagination" I find myself constantly imagining a workable answer to life's problems. I feel a weight lifted and everything is happy. Then I realize that my dumb-ass mind is playing tricks on me again, and I am not going to find a large sack of money on the side of the road. The weight of the world comes crashing back down. So how do I try to figure out what to do when I can't trust my own thoughts?

I guess I will just have to do what I have always done. Worry about the problems I can control, and don't stress about the ones I can't. It just becomes increasingly more difficult when these problems are also causing great stress and strain on loved ones. I know I can roll with the punches, but how can I help everyone else? And how many punches can I take until the internal hemorrhaging is just too much?

Alright, I'm going to go home and sleep now. Sorry for the invite to my pity party. Tomorrow's another day.

Cya in 7

Guest Rant : Until Death Do Us Part, Or Something Better Comes Along.

Happy Hump Day! And to make it even better, today's rant is from our favorite anonymous ranter. Enjoy!

Cya in 7

"Growing up I remember being asked, “What do you admire most about your dad?” Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh. “Well, he works hard I guess. And he’s loyal to my mom and I know he loves her.” I really appreciated that fact. Even though I didn’t see eye to eye with my dad on just about everything, there was one thing we both had in common. We both loved my mom. I didn’t trust my dad not to hurt me, but I knew he would never hurt her. It made me feel safe. So imagine how devastated I was to learn that my dad was leaving my mom because he “didn’t love her anymore.” Thirty four years of marriage down the toilet.

A few hours ago, I returned from a trip to McCall where my dad ::clearing my throat:: has a cabin. He is remarried now to a very sweet woman. I would like her very much. I would like her a lot more if my mother were dead.

Let me be clear that I try very hard at this whole “your parents are divorced” thing. I know very well it would be hypocritical for me not to love my father. After all, the reason I’m angry at him is because he doesn’t love my mother. So not loving my father because he doesn’t love my mother, although understandable, is wrong. But it’s hard. I know logically that I am to forgive others of their trespasses. I know that judging others is not my job. I know that criticism tears down relationships. He couldn’t get past the things about her that bothered him. So even though I have a huge list of things that I do not like about my father and feel very justified in those things, I know that I should overlook his past misdeeds, hurts, and wrongs, and love him anyway. So I try. I try very hard not to do to my father what my father did to my mother. Yet still it is hard.

Take today for example. The cabin is now my father’s, but it has my mother’s stamp all over it. Looks the same. Looks like her. Looks like them. Stupid, stuffed animals all over the place. The only things missing are the four quilts my mom made for the beds upstairs. They kind of disappeared. It irritates me that my dad won’t say, “Hey I took those quilts off the bed that your mom made and replaced them with different quilts. Would you like them before I give them to DI?” Everything gets tossed. Really irks me.

Then there’s breakfast at the Pancake House. A family tradition, and when I say ‘family’ I mean my old family, the one where my parents were married. My old PD (pre-divorce) family went there on a regular basis as I was growing up. Now it’s something that my father enjoys with his new wife. Anyway, when they eat out, they always order the same entrée and split it. They ask what we’re going to order and we ask what they are going to order. His new wife says they are going to order McCalls’s Best because “we’ve never had it before.” I choked on my water and held my tongue. I can’t count how many times my dad has ordered and eaten McCall’s Best. He never corrected her. He never does.

That reminds me of the trip they took to Boston. A while back she told me all about their wonderful trip to Boston and what a fun time they had together walking the Freedom Trail and seeing the historic sites. Oh you would have been so proud of me for not saying, “Oh really? My dad took my mom to Boston at least three times. Besides Hawaii, it was their favorite place to go. In fact, one year they took me for my senior trip. The three of us had a blast. Would you like to see my pictures? I have one in front of the Paul Revere statue just like you do.”

I don’t blame him, but I don’t think my dad has ever mentioned a single thing about his 57 years of living before he met her. It’s like it’s all been erased. Was it really that terrible?

So our breakfast comes and they start eating their McCalls’s Best, which supposedly my dad has never had before, and they start talking about their recent trip to Wyoming. They are always traveling. They tell me all about it and the stops along the way, and they talk about the little towns and where they ate and where they stayed and have I ever been here or there. They ask me have I ever been to Tetonia? Oh yes. Tetonia. The beautiful place in Idaho where my grandmother was raised. Yes, I have been there. With my grandmother. And her sister. Again I remain silent and pretend like I have never been to or heard of Tetonia. Then my dad says, “Your uncle Tom was born there.” Oh really? He’s not the only one. Have you forgotten that my grandmother, you know, your ex mother in law was born and raised there?

Hearing about their perfect life is tantamount to fingernails on the chalkboard. And I can’t talk about 90% of my life. I can’t talk about my heritage. I can’t talk about my current plans or future plans if they involve my mother. I can’t talk about why I am the way I am or what my values are. It takes all the energy I have to stay positive and nice and not drift into feeling pained and angry.

So then we go boating. I’m not much of a boater although I’ve spent countless hours on the lake in a boat. When I think of boating, I think of stress. My dad turned into bigger jerk whenever we would go. Don’t step on the seats. Get the sand off your feet. Sit down. Don’t let the boat hit the dock. I could never do anything right. Neither could anyone else. I just tried to stay out of the way. Growing up with a dad that’s really critical makes you feel really nervous all the time. When I’m around him, I can’t relax. I’m borderline scared all the time that I’m doing something wrong. I was like that all day today. I hated it. I was extra cautious and critical of everything my husband and my kids were saying and doing. I was a nervous wreck and I’m sure they didn’t appreciate all my disapproving looks. But it was all because I know how my dad thinks. I know he didn’t appreciate my husband seating our baby next to him at breakfast. I know he thinks my husband is ridiculously nice and borderline cheesy. I know he thinks my daughter is dramatic. I know he doesn’t want my son jumping on the couch. I know he disapproves when my husband orders a soda when everyone else gets water.

After boating we go to the beach and let the kids play in the sand. We’re all chit-chatting and then my dad looks at the mountain across the lake and says, “We’ve taken you to such and such mountain haven’t we?” What? I am so confused. When he says “we” who does he mean? The “old we” or the “new we” because I’ve never heard of that mountain so maybe he means the “old we” when I was a kid? Because the new “we” hasn’t taken us up there. So confusing. And frustrating.

By the end of the day, I was so glad to be going home. It’s exhausting to not feel comfortable in your own skin. I feel bad for other children whose parents are divorced. It sucks the life right out of you. That’s how I was all day. Trying to avoid conflict. Trying to follow all his rules that I’ve internalized—mainly how to be good and stay out off his radar. Being overly grateful for the littlest things because I know how he hates to put himself out. Repressing the anger. Pushing against the bitterness. Remembering to smile once in a while and look like I’m having fun. I’m tired just thinking about it.

So that was my day and this is my rant. Are your parents divorced? How has it affected you? If not, how do you think it would affect you? I’m curious. Do tell."

Mañana

This is a rant I have been putting off for a long time. And if I could think of anything better to talk about I would be putting it off longer, but I can't so I didn't.

I am a card carrying, dues paying, full fledged procrastinator. I will shirk duties and responsibilities until the last moment possible. Even this stupid rant is being written just hours before it is to be published. So why is it that I wait so long?!

Maybe its because I am part Mexican. No, that is not a racial stereotype and I am not accusing Mexicans of being lazy ( and yeah, I really am part Mexican ). But in Mexico their attitude is 'why do today what can be put off until tomorrow?' I like that simple, easy going lifestyle pace. Unfortunately I choose to live in the land of 'faster, quicker, NOW!'

How hard can it really be to get things done in a timely fashion? This rant is only going to take me 20 - 30 minutes. If I would have done it last Thursday, or even just yesterday, I could have had time to make it better. ( Now y'all will know why some of my rants suck more than others. ) But when I wait until the last moment I feel rushed, stressed, annoyed, and otherwise put-out. So why do I do this to myself?

It's not like I procrastinate everything. If it is something I want to do, something fun, I am all over it. There are just too many irksome expectations in life. I need someone filthy rich to adopt me, or maybe a sugar momma'. Any takers? I'd make a great house boy/ sex slave. No? Bummer.

So, to make a short story just a little bit longer; it annoys me that I do procrastinate, yet I make no attempts to change it. I know there are one or two of you out there that can relate, but are there any recovered procrastinators that would like to share your pearls of wisdom with us swine? How can we ( I ) turn our desire to be better into action?

Maybe if one of you can "cure" me the next rant will be a little better. =)

Cya in 7

Reality Bites!

Does anyone even remember that movie? I think that was the only movie I remember watching where Ben Stiller actually intended to be not funny. Well, I don't want to talk about that movie. I don't even remember anything about it except the cast. But I want to whine about something that I'm sure many of you will not agree with me. It is a very high profile topic, one that has caused many an argument and I am sure multitudes of divorces. So here is my stance; Reality TV shows are causing the intellectual decay of the masses!

What makes people so drawn to watching other "normal" people say and do the dumbest things on network television?! I am sure the origins are deep seeded, but I'm going to blame David "Puck" Rainey from The Real World San Francisco. His violent outbursts and antagonistic behavior made him an instant hit. Each year the producers of The Real World would try desperately to cast persons that will have the most conflict and drama. And when they could get a couple that were willing to fornicate on the show their wallets would just burst! When the drama and conflict of every day "real" lives was no longer enough to satiate the appetites of the worlds collective morons, the naked fat gay guy from season one of Survivor arrived to demonstrate that we have yet to see the limit of how far stupid people will go to get their 15 minutes. Richard Hatch flaunted his flabby birthday suit, and the whole world tuned in. Producers saw a whole new wave of possibilities, and their eyes turned into dollar signs. Now every dumb ass reality show has to have some drama, nudity, gimmick, hook, or other perversion to get people to watch.

Survivor, The Mole, Big Brother, Amazing Race, Fear Factor would fall under the category "game show" reality programs. I will admit that even I have been entertained for a few brief seconds watching the contests these individuals compete in, but as soon as the camera is on them and they open their pie holes I am quickly reminded why I prefer to have trained actors earn billions of dollars to entertain me.

But what really REALLY pisses me off is when a good program that I enjoy is canceled to replace it with another freaking reality show! How many damn Bachelor, Bachelorette, Nanny 911, Supernanny, Wife Swap, Take My Wife, Whomever and Whatever and their 20 thousand million children shows do we need?!

Ok the creme de la crap, the American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance, America's Got Talent group! Seriously?! It terrifies me to know that there are people freely roaming the streets that actually watch this garbage. Shouldn't these people be under 24 hour surveillance by the men in the nice white coats?

I could go on, but just thinking about this is giving me a mini stroke. To illustrate the severity of this problem I am going to include a list below. This list is just the reality shows I am familiar with and detest. So it will not be all inclusive, but I assure you it will be long and depressing.

So let's have it! Defend your your decision to waste your precious few remaining brain cells on these types of programs. =)

Cya in 7

The Real World
Road Rules
Making the Band
Project Greenlight
Sorority Life
Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County
The Real Housewives of Orange County
Jon & Kate Plus 8
Blind Date
Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?
Farmer Wants a Wife
The Bachelor
Meet My Folks
Average Joe
The Bachelorette
Married by America
Room Raiders
Date My Mom
Who Wants to Marry My Dad?
Beauty and the Geek
Next
Parental Control
Age of Love
Momma's Boys
Dog The Bounty Hunter
What Not to Wear
Extreme Makeover
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
Dr. 90210
Wife Swap
Celebrity Fit Club
The Biggest Loser
Nanny 911
Supernanny
Shalom in the Home
Flavor of Love
The Anna Nicole Show
The Osbournes
Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica
The Simple Life
The Surreal Life
The Gastineau Girls
Growing Up Gotti
The Girls Next Door
Hogan Knows Best
Meet the Barkers
Tommy Lee Goes to College
Gene Simmons Family Jewels
The Hills
Keeping Up with the Kardashians
Run's House
Cheaters
Survivor
The Mole
The Amazing Race
Fear Factor
I'm a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here!
13: Fear Is Real
American Idol
America's Next Top Model
The Apprentice
The Contender
Dancing with the Stars
Hell's Kitchen
Project Runway
The Ultimate Fighter
America's Got Talent
American Inventor ( ok, I did like this one)
Top Chef
Who Wants to be a Superhero?
The Singing Bee


Thanks Wikipedia!

Half Full Or Half Empty

Happy hump day! And yay for all of you that get a long weekend for the holiday!

Well I don't have a lot to say today. Yeah, yeah, "stop the presses!". But what I do want to say is a lot of jumbled thoughts bouncing around the vast emptiness which is my brain cavity. So I am just going to lay it down and we'll see who can pick it up.

I have said before that life sucks. And I think it does. But I think that statement may come across more negative than I intend.

We have all heard the whole "the glass is half empty" bit. I don't see the glass as half empty or half full. I see it as all full, half air and half water. I don't consider myself an optimist or a pessimist, just a realist. So when I say something I don't mean it to be negative, just literal.

Back to life sucks. Life is hard. "By the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread...". Not many of us have a perfect life without a single concern, stress, worry, problem, or other pain in the ass. People we love die, people we care about suffer, we feel pain, we hunger, we cry. Hence, "life sucks". NOW that is not to say we can't and shouldn't be happy! Life as a whole sucks, but our individual lives are ours to control and shape. My life is great. I have a great family, great friends, a place to live, food on the table ( no fat jokes!) and I live in a great country.

I am not trying to say my life is perfect, far from it. I could list all my problems, but that would defeat my point. We all have our own issues, and to us they are the biggest problems in the world. But we can either bitch and moan, see the glass as half empty, throw a major pity party, and be miserable. Or we can sack-up, control the things we can control and let go those things that are beyond our control, count our blessings, and just make the best of what we have.

Being a realist I do not expect anyone out there to change who you are. If you are a negative person you are not likely to change. Especially if you don't want to change. But I just wanted to clarify my position, because I frankly don't care to listen to negative people. But on the other side I really can't stand to listen to the "my glass, which is made of crystal, is half full of sparkling clear spring water flown in from the mountains of Tibet" kind of people.... I guess I just don't like listening to people in general.... I just don't like people, except you guys of course. =)

So go forth and bitch no more.

Cya in 7