...and never come back?
Well, I have.
I have this reoccuring fantasy where I run away from home (with all the money from Husband's and my savings account AND my kid) and I don't tell anyone where I'm going and I just leave. I've thought about going somewhere like Idaho or Montana. And like someone in the witness protection program, I just disappear and start over.
I am sure a therapist would have a field day with this little fantasy of mine. I'm not sure exactly what it means other than I get sick of my life sometimes. It's normal, right?
Of course, I'd probably eventually tell my really close friends where I am. I mean, I don't want to end up on a milk carton or arrested for kidnapping my child or whatever happens to people who do that sort of thing. And I guess I'd have to tell Husband, because, after all he is Daughter's father and it wouldn't be right to deny him or her the benefit (or dysfunction) of their relationship. Oh, and I suppose I'd have to tell my mother. She'd kill me if I did something like this and didn't clue her in on my scheme.
In the process of telling my friends, my husband and my mother...it would seem that my fantasy would be a big, fat bust. What would be the point of running away from home and then telling everyone about it -- other than I'd be in fucking Idaho (no offense to any Idaho-ians out there, but at least in Michigan I have the freaking Red Wings and some decent pizza and coney islands, and some lakes to visit and shit like that)? Dammit. Guess my ass is staying right where it is.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
I Feel Like I Need Some Grief Counseling or Something Today
My childhood memories sure have taken a beating today. Both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson have passed away. Sad, sad day.
As some of you may have read, I recently wrote about Farrah Fawcett's documentary, "Farrah's Story" and how it reminded me of my mom's battle with Amyloidosis. I loved Farrah when I was a kid. And when any of my friends wanted to play "Charlie's Angels" we all argued over who would get to play Farrah. So I bid Adieu to Ms. Fawcett. I hope her soul finds some peace.
Michael Jackson was also a huge part of my childhood. Despite the freakshow he turned into over the past 10-15 years, Thriller came out when I was about 12 years old and that shit rocked the fucking house. Every song on that record was da bomb, and I begged my parents to buy me the Beat It red leather jacket -- the one with all the zippers. They never did, so I instead had a boyfriend who had one and begged him to let me wear his. (He did.) And even before Thriller, I remember when "The Wiz" was making its television debut. I begged my parents to let me stay up late enough so I could watch the whole thing. I FUCKING LOVED "THE WIZ". Michael Jackson as the scarecrow...and him and Diana Ross singing "Ease on Down, Ease on Down the Road" made my eight-year-old self sqeal in delight.
I'll never forget watching the video for Thriller at a slumber party. I'll never watching Michael on the 25th Anniversary Special for Motown when he first showed the world the Moonwalk. And I'll never forget learning how to Moonwalk myself (I can still do it -- ask me and I'd love to show off for you). I remember being in love with him (I had that poster of the pic above in my bedroom) and his music -- Michael was a very talented man despite everything. It always struck me that he was someone who didn't live in reality and was probably extremely lonely and that made me sad. I don't condone anything he may have done, but I really hope that his soul is able to find some peace now that he is free to be the child he always wanted to be.
As some of you may have read, I recently wrote about Farrah Fawcett's documentary, "Farrah's Story" and how it reminded me of my mom's battle with Amyloidosis. I loved Farrah when I was a kid. And when any of my friends wanted to play "Charlie's Angels" we all argued over who would get to play Farrah. So I bid Adieu to Ms. Fawcett. I hope her soul finds some peace.
Michael Jackson was also a huge part of my childhood. Despite the freakshow he turned into over the past 10-15 years, Thriller came out when I was about 12 years old and that shit rocked the fucking house. Every song on that record was da bomb, and I begged my parents to buy me the Beat It red leather jacket -- the one with all the zippers. They never did, so I instead had a boyfriend who had one and begged him to let me wear his. (He did.) And even before Thriller, I remember when "The Wiz" was making its television debut. I begged my parents to let me stay up late enough so I could watch the whole thing. I FUCKING LOVED "THE WIZ". Michael Jackson as the scarecrow...and him and Diana Ross singing "Ease on Down, Ease on Down the Road" made my eight-year-old self sqeal in delight.
I'll never forget watching the video for Thriller at a slumber party. I'll never watching Michael on the 25th Anniversary Special for Motown when he first showed the world the Moonwalk. And I'll never forget learning how to Moonwalk myself (I can still do it -- ask me and I'd love to show off for you). I remember being in love with him (I had that poster of the pic above in my bedroom) and his music -- Michael was a very talented man despite everything. It always struck me that he was someone who didn't live in reality and was probably extremely lonely and that made me sad. I don't condone anything he may have done, but I really hope that his soul is able to find some peace now that he is free to be the child he always wanted to be.
R.I.P. Farrah Fawcett 1947-2009
R.I.P. Michael Jackson 1958-2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sex and Candy
You know what I love? Hershey’s chocolate, that’s what.
Now I’ve tried all types of chocolate in my 37 years, you can believe it. I’ve had cheap chocolate (like those cheap foil-wrapped egg chocolates you find at Easter) and I’ve had expensive chocolate (Godiva, Ghirardelli…shit imported from Switzerland, etc.). I love Dove chocolates, but I always come back to Hershey’s chocolate. It's like my long-lost lover...and I can say that Hershey’s is the best I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.
As you've probably gathered, Hershey's chocolate is like sex to me. Really great, mind blowing sex, that is. And frankly, Hershey’s chocolate always is good for me – it’s consistent and steady, it’s always available when I crave it, and it never disappoints. Hershey’s chocolate has variety, too. I can get it with nuts, or without. I can get it in the form of Kisses or Nuggets (and nevermind all the flavors I can get those in). I can get it in syrup or powder…and it can get it in white, dark or milk chocolate. PLUS it lasts as long as I want. I can gobble it down in less than a minute, or I can pace myself and make it last for hours. Best part of all of this? My chocolate craving is always satisfied at the end.
After I’m done with Hershey’s chocolate, there’s no obligatory compliments that we need to exchange, or awkwardness, or walk of shame. Hershey knows it did its job, and I’m grateful for that. We part ways with a smile on my face and the sugar pumping through my veins, giving me a chocolate high. Hershey’s doesn't mind that I'm the only one who is satisfied either, because it is happy being a giver. I can also have Hershey’s anytime, anywhere without getting arrested or losing my job. I'm not considered a freak if I want to share my Hershey’s with a group of people, male and female alike -- all of us enjoying Hershey's at once.
Too much Hershey’s can be a bad thing, though. Overindulgence in one day can cause and upset stomach and the sugar rush can be too much. Overindulgence over a long period of time can cause bad health and weight gain. I guess that’s one thing that sex has on chocolate. The more you do it the more calories you burn and there’s no upset stomach in the end. Or at least there shouldn’t be! Maybe there’s something I don’t know here?
Too bad there’s not a really great way to combine Hershey’s chocolate with my sex life…I wonder if Husband would get a Kisses costume and wear it to bed? Ah, nevermind…
Now I’ve tried all types of chocolate in my 37 years, you can believe it. I’ve had cheap chocolate (like those cheap foil-wrapped egg chocolates you find at Easter) and I’ve had expensive chocolate (Godiva, Ghirardelli…shit imported from Switzerland, etc.). I love Dove chocolates, but I always come back to Hershey’s chocolate. It's like my long-lost lover...and I can say that Hershey’s is the best I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.
As you've probably gathered, Hershey's chocolate is like sex to me. Really great, mind blowing sex, that is. And frankly, Hershey’s chocolate always is good for me – it’s consistent and steady, it’s always available when I crave it, and it never disappoints. Hershey’s chocolate has variety, too. I can get it with nuts, or without. I can get it in the form of Kisses or Nuggets (and nevermind all the flavors I can get those in). I can get it in syrup or powder…and it can get it in white, dark or milk chocolate. PLUS it lasts as long as I want. I can gobble it down in less than a minute, or I can pace myself and make it last for hours. Best part of all of this? My chocolate craving is always satisfied at the end.
After I’m done with Hershey’s chocolate, there’s no obligatory compliments that we need to exchange, or awkwardness, or walk of shame. Hershey knows it did its job, and I’m grateful for that. We part ways with a smile on my face and the sugar pumping through my veins, giving me a chocolate high. Hershey’s doesn't mind that I'm the only one who is satisfied either, because it is happy being a giver. I can also have Hershey’s anytime, anywhere without getting arrested or losing my job. I'm not considered a freak if I want to share my Hershey’s with a group of people, male and female alike -- all of us enjoying Hershey's at once.
Too much Hershey’s can be a bad thing, though. Overindulgence in one day can cause and upset stomach and the sugar rush can be too much. Overindulgence over a long period of time can cause bad health and weight gain. I guess that’s one thing that sex has on chocolate. The more you do it the more calories you burn and there’s no upset stomach in the end. Or at least there shouldn’t be! Maybe there’s something I don’t know here?
Too bad there’s not a really great way to combine Hershey’s chocolate with my sex life…I wonder if Husband would get a Kisses costume and wear it to bed? Ah, nevermind…
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day
I called my dad today to wish him a Happy Father's Day. Now, I've written about my dad before on this blog -- some of it positive, some of it negative -- and all of it the truth. I usually don't have everyday-type of chit-chats with my dad, and I usually only see him occasionally, when I end up at my parents house for some random reason, or when I go "up north" (a favorite summer pastime of Michiganders...if you're not familiar, it basically means heading somewhere north of where you live, and usually means a "cottage" on one of the Great Lakes) to my parents cottage.
When I called today, I felt a little like chatting. Over Memorial Day weekend, when Daughter and I went up north and spent an overnight, my dad and I were outside talking. He's a smoker and is not allowed to smoke in the house. While we were outside gossiping about the latest stupid thing my brother has done, my dad sneeks in a "I'm glad you're here, Dog" to me. We call each other "Dog" in kind of a Randy-Jackson-American-Idol way, but I gave him that nickname when I was a senior in high school 20 years ago...so i can't be accused of stealing it from Mr. Jackson. Anyway, I was really touched when my dad said it. I mean, I know he loves me but we're not close like we used to be. And despite anything he's done in the past, he's still my dad.
Today, I wanted to chat a little because yesterday, I went to the VFW hall that my grandpa belonged to (and where I spent a lot of time when I was a kid). My dad is a Vietnam veteran, and husband had asked yesterday what VFW that my dad belonged to -- I didn't know. I also found out yesterday that I could join the VFW that my grandpa was a member of -- I didn't know this either, and frankly, while I'm not all that into doing a bunch of activities at the VFW, it is one organization I would give gobs and gobs of money to if I could. So joining it and paying the membership dues is nothing I have a problem with, and I also would do it as a sort of tribute to my grandpa. While we were at the VFW, Husband also asked about the 21-gun salute my grandpa had at his graveside. Who performs this service? Again, I had no idea.
I figured my dad would know about this. During our conversation, I found out he was a member of a VFW post in Toledo, OH -- the same one his dad was a member of. His father was a POW during WWII, captured by the Germans and spent 2 years in a prison camp. His dad passed away probably around 18 years ago, in some military hospital. His dad was sort of insane (literally) and I was exposed to his nutty behavior when I was around 13 years old, when his dad came to live with us for a little while. I mean, he never did anything too weird (like in some creepy child predator sort of way), but he would just say off-the-wall shit sometimes, and once he was in the middle of our street in his pajamas with his arms spread like Jesus on the cross, shouting some crazy shit or something (this I did not actually see with my own eyes, only heard about when my mom was all "you need to get your crazy father out of our house before he does something really crazy".
I also found out that you just call you local VFW or American Legion and tell them you want a 21-gun salute at a veteran's funeral, and they send 7-10 guys and there you go. I didn't realize it was so easy -- I thought it was some super-secret government thing. Apparently not. My dad says something about having a 21-gun salute at his funeral, and I tell him that I'll make sure there is one because I have a feeling my mom isn't going to go that extra mile when he croaks. I know it sounds fucked up -- but just being honest, here.
So after chatting a bit, I wished my dad a Happy Father's Day and we told each other we loved each other. It was nice.
I'd also like to wish my grandpa a Happy Father's Day...even though he's been long gone. He's always in my thoughts and was the first father I ever knew. He was a dad to me because my biological father was a shithead and never stepped up to the plate. He was a dad to me before my current dad adopted me when he married my mom. He was the dad who bought me my first bicycle and taught me how to ride it. And he was the best dad ever.
I'd also like to wish a Happy Father's Day to Husband, being the father of my awesome kid. Without him, I would not have the person in this world I love the most.
Here's to hoping all of the fathers out there had a good day too. And may all the girls out there who need a father in their life, find one. Whether it be your grandpa, your mom's new husband, or another man in your life.
When I called today, I felt a little like chatting. Over Memorial Day weekend, when Daughter and I went up north and spent an overnight, my dad and I were outside talking. He's a smoker and is not allowed to smoke in the house. While we were outside gossiping about the latest stupid thing my brother has done, my dad sneeks in a "I'm glad you're here, Dog" to me. We call each other "Dog" in kind of a Randy-Jackson-American-Idol way, but I gave him that nickname when I was a senior in high school 20 years ago...so i can't be accused of stealing it from Mr. Jackson. Anyway, I was really touched when my dad said it. I mean, I know he loves me but we're not close like we used to be. And despite anything he's done in the past, he's still my dad.
Today, I wanted to chat a little because yesterday, I went to the VFW hall that my grandpa belonged to (and where I spent a lot of time when I was a kid). My dad is a Vietnam veteran, and husband had asked yesterday what VFW that my dad belonged to -- I didn't know. I also found out yesterday that I could join the VFW that my grandpa was a member of -- I didn't know this either, and frankly, while I'm not all that into doing a bunch of activities at the VFW, it is one organization I would give gobs and gobs of money to if I could. So joining it and paying the membership dues is nothing I have a problem with, and I also would do it as a sort of tribute to my grandpa. While we were at the VFW, Husband also asked about the 21-gun salute my grandpa had at his graveside. Who performs this service? Again, I had no idea.
I figured my dad would know about this. During our conversation, I found out he was a member of a VFW post in Toledo, OH -- the same one his dad was a member of. His father was a POW during WWII, captured by the Germans and spent 2 years in a prison camp. His dad passed away probably around 18 years ago, in some military hospital. His dad was sort of insane (literally) and I was exposed to his nutty behavior when I was around 13 years old, when his dad came to live with us for a little while. I mean, he never did anything too weird (like in some creepy child predator sort of way), but he would just say off-the-wall shit sometimes, and once he was in the middle of our street in his pajamas with his arms spread like Jesus on the cross, shouting some crazy shit or something (this I did not actually see with my own eyes, only heard about when my mom was all "you need to get your crazy father out of our house before he does something really crazy".
I also found out that you just call you local VFW or American Legion and tell them you want a 21-gun salute at a veteran's funeral, and they send 7-10 guys and there you go. I didn't realize it was so easy -- I thought it was some super-secret government thing. Apparently not. My dad says something about having a 21-gun salute at his funeral, and I tell him that I'll make sure there is one because I have a feeling my mom isn't going to go that extra mile when he croaks. I know it sounds fucked up -- but just being honest, here.
So after chatting a bit, I wished my dad a Happy Father's Day and we told each other we loved each other. It was nice.
I'd also like to wish my grandpa a Happy Father's Day...even though he's been long gone. He's always in my thoughts and was the first father I ever knew. He was a dad to me because my biological father was a shithead and never stepped up to the plate. He was a dad to me before my current dad adopted me when he married my mom. He was the dad who bought me my first bicycle and taught me how to ride it. And he was the best dad ever.
I'd also like to wish a Happy Father's Day to Husband, being the father of my awesome kid. Without him, I would not have the person in this world I love the most.
Here's to hoping all of the fathers out there had a good day too. And may all the girls out there who need a father in their life, find one. Whether it be your grandpa, your mom's new husband, or another man in your life.
Friday, June 19, 2009
If Two Negatives Equal a Positive, Do Two Positives Equal a Negative?
I guess you can say I have been fooling myself into believing that I can be a positive person.
Last week, Husband and I were getting ready to leave to go somewhere. As I was walking down the steps, I started complaining about someone. I can't even remember what I was saying or who I was saying it about -- that part is immaterial to this story. Husband then comes down the step and says something like "Is there anyone you like?" I said, "What do you mean? I'm a people-person, goddammit!" (In case you missed the reference, that was me quoting "Office Space". Husband and I are movie quoters.) He replies, "No you aren't. You hate people. You only like people who are dry and sarcastic, like you."
I can't tell you how much I was offended. I mean, DEEPLY offended. Then I thought about it. Was he right?
Tuesday this week, I posted my status on Facebook as "walking on sunshine." The previous day, I had posted my status as "Ugh...Monday" and being Tuesday, I was going to be funny and write "Ugh...Tuesday" (and then actually do the same for every other day of the week) but then I stopped myself. Why don't I post something positive for a change -- you know, put some positive energy out into the universe, so that maybe I could somehow convince myself that it was going to be a GREAT DAY!
Immediately after posting, SG at Perfectly Cursed Life emails me with the question "are you serious" (those were not her exact words but that is what she meant) regarding my Facebook status. You must understand -- she knows me well. She knows I'm not exactly Ms. Positivity. So I give her my explaination. Later in the day, another friend of my posts a comment on my status -- "WTF?!" I then texted my BFF Shannon, and told her about these two incidents. She sent me a text back and said she didn't know what was funnier -- my attempt at being "positive" or the fact that two of my friends were questioning it.
I guess I should just wear my cloak of sarcasm with dignity and pride. After all, it's what makes me who I am. And in case you forgot -- "I'm a people-person, goddammit!"
Last week, Husband and I were getting ready to leave to go somewhere. As I was walking down the steps, I started complaining about someone. I can't even remember what I was saying or who I was saying it about -- that part is immaterial to this story. Husband then comes down the step and says something like "Is there anyone you like?" I said, "What do you mean? I'm a people-person, goddammit!" (In case you missed the reference, that was me quoting "Office Space". Husband and I are movie quoters.) He replies, "No you aren't. You hate people. You only like people who are dry and sarcastic, like you."
I can't tell you how much I was offended. I mean, DEEPLY offended. Then I thought about it. Was he right?
Tuesday this week, I posted my status on Facebook as "walking on sunshine." The previous day, I had posted my status as "Ugh...Monday" and being Tuesday, I was going to be funny and write "Ugh...Tuesday" (and then actually do the same for every other day of the week) but then I stopped myself. Why don't I post something positive for a change -- you know, put some positive energy out into the universe, so that maybe I could somehow convince myself that it was going to be a GREAT DAY!
Immediately after posting, SG at Perfectly Cursed Life emails me with the question "are you serious" (those were not her exact words but that is what she meant) regarding my Facebook status. You must understand -- she knows me well. She knows I'm not exactly Ms. Positivity. So I give her my explaination. Later in the day, another friend of my posts a comment on my status -- "WTF?!" I then texted my BFF Shannon, and told her about these two incidents. She sent me a text back and said she didn't know what was funnier -- my attempt at being "positive" or the fact that two of my friends were questioning it.
I guess I should just wear my cloak of sarcasm with dignity and pride. After all, it's what makes me who I am. And in case you forgot -- "I'm a people-person, goddammit!"
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Many Apologies
I just wanted to apologize for not having any new posts these past couple of weeks. Between studying AGAIN for the Bar exam, and not having anything interesting to say...my blog has suffered. Big-time frowny face.
Nothing exciting has happened in the past couple of weeks...it's been quite pathetic since I have nothing new to bitch about. I guess the most newsworthy events were:
I started a new medication, because the last one I was one was giving me anxiety and I couldn't take it anymore.
My friend, Jen, had her wedding last weekend and I managed to find a dress that was flattering and didn't cost an arm and a leg. *Hooray*
Daughter has started her summer vacation.
Husband had is 39th birthday last week (although, sadly, he tells everyone he works with he is a year younger...I mean -- what's the point? If you're going to lie about your age...LIE). It kinda grosses me out that I'm married to a man who will be 40 next year. (and I understand I am only one year younger...but still...ewwwww)
One thing that has bothered me today -- I have set iGoogle as my homepage at work, which allows me to Facebook, Twitter, check my email, read the news and other various things without having to do searches. I have set the header to show me something random each day. Today's freaking theme has been Celine Dion pictures. I want to jump out the window everytime I see her. I can't wait until the theme changes tomorrow! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ABOUT? Celine Dion is awesome that she gets her own iGoogle templates (or whatever they're called?) Whoever made these things up should be shot.
Well, that's about it. See. I told you it was pathetic. That was five minutes of reading you'll never get back. And I am sorry for that.
Nothing exciting has happened in the past couple of weeks...it's been quite pathetic since I have nothing new to bitch about. I guess the most newsworthy events were:
I started a new medication, because the last one I was one was giving me anxiety and I couldn't take it anymore.
My friend, Jen, had her wedding last weekend and I managed to find a dress that was flattering and didn't cost an arm and a leg. *Hooray*
Daughter has started her summer vacation.
Husband had is 39th birthday last week (although, sadly, he tells everyone he works with he is a year younger...I mean -- what's the point? If you're going to lie about your age...LIE). It kinda grosses me out that I'm married to a man who will be 40 next year. (and I understand I am only one year younger...but still...ewwwww)
One thing that has bothered me today -- I have set iGoogle as my homepage at work, which allows me to Facebook, Twitter, check my email, read the news and other various things without having to do searches. I have set the header to show me something random each day. Today's freaking theme has been Celine Dion pictures. I want to jump out the window everytime I see her. I can't wait until the theme changes tomorrow! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ABOUT? Celine Dion is awesome that she gets her own iGoogle templates (or whatever they're called?) Whoever made these things up should be shot.
Well, that's about it. See. I told you it was pathetic. That was five minutes of reading you'll never get back. And I am sorry for that.
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