19 August 2010

SHADDAP! ....just.....shaddap...please....you're killing me, here!

(Photograph copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)

Ok. I'm finally getting it together-ish. I have a problem combining "Summer" and "writing". Summer, you see, is my favorite time of the year. I want to wallow in the sun, bask in the heat, get a tan (and no, I DON'T feel in the least guilty about that), drink gin and tonic.... you know, summer stuff. Sitting at a computer is difficult, and it gets harder and harder for every degree of heat over 75. Today it's 88 and I'm grooving. But I owe you some answers. Source material is here .

Then, and as an extra special bonus JUST FOR YOU.... I have a dilemma of my own and YOU can tell me what to do. Even if it's SHADDAP!

1. You accused someone of cornering you in a bathroom when you were six years old, so you could avoid going to your father's house for a weekend of drunken abuse. Now that you're an adult, you feel guilty.


You did one thing spectacularly right here, kid. You avoided getting in a car with a drunk. You survived your fucked-up family. I understand the impulse to apologize for your actions. If you want to know what happened, ask your mother. Then decide. In the meantime, get some help.

I suspect this has more to do with your feelings about your father than anything else.

2. Oh boy! Your nasty family member who gets fired a lot for nastiness is applying for a job where you work and you're wondering whether you should give HR the heads up about this lunatic?


Given that this person has issues with everyone, not just you, odds are good that she wouldn't get hired in the first place. That said, there's nothing wrong with tipping the nod to whoever's doing the hiring. Look at it this way. If your company has to find out the hard way that your relative is an unholy bitch and has to fire her, it's going to cost them a fortune.

I noticed too, although others haven't, that you say, "...this family member would put my career in jeapordy."

You didn't say COULD, you said WOULD. Definitely tattle on the bitch. Then cut her out of your life entirely. It sounds like she's been upsetting you for a long time. Why give her the chance to continue?

3. Bloody hell! WTF? ANOTHER round of, "my boyfriend is the perfectist perfect boyfriend on the face of the planet yadda yadda yadda .......BUT?!"


Heaven help us all when stupid people decide that assholes are "perfect". What part of "insanely jealous" did you miss here, sugar? You know that's just going to be code for everyone to tell you to DTMFA, right? Right?

You don't owe him a "number". Period. He never should have asked. It's none of his fucking business, it's intrusive, and if he cared about YOU, your past would be meaningless to him. So do us all a favor, send him back to whatever assholeland he sprang from and go find yourself a grownup.

But do some growing up yourself, first.


4. You sleep in the same bed as your son for the FOUR DAYS A MONTH you get to see him, except when you're fucking whatever boyfriend you have at the time, and you think this is somehow ALL RIGHT?


Get your son a sofa bed. Tell your boyfriend that he'll have to take care of business himself four times a month. Duh, fucking duh.

Better yet, sign off all parental rights to your ex, since he's the parent with the brain in this case. Then you can screw like a bunny any old time you want with the bedroom door open, even, and your son will at least have half a chance at not being a complete head case because of you.

It's probably too late.


Now I know you're all just DYING to know what my dilemma is. I have to say, I just can't wait for Tonto to tell me I'm fulla crap! Are you ready for this? Are you?

Dear Readers,

As a lot of you already know, I'm a Clay Person. I've been doing this for the better part of a decade now, and I finally feel like I've hit my sculpture groove. People are noticing my work, which is slightly shocking to me, since in the past I've heard things like, "What's it for?" a lot. It's not FOR anything. It just is. One day I'll post some photos of the recent stuff. On to the story.

I have to work in a studio, of course, and since few people have the money or the space to work at home, we congregate at facilities where we can take classes, mingle with other Clay People and generally get some work done in a relatively convivial atmosphere. It's generally a pretty mellow group. No one gets wound up about the small stuff, and while there are some personality clashes, we're a civilized bunch and just choose not to deal with people we don't get along with.

So here's the problem. In the class I'm taking now (and that I'm planning to repeat because I adore the teacher), there is a Fly in the Ointment. This fellow student is just impossible to deal with. I tried to be friendly. No dice. I tried to be polite. Nothing. I tried to ignore her. She's being even MORE obnoxious. She has a permanent frown and a foul attitude.

I asked around and several people have told me that they have issues with this broad. Some who have been cornered by her, have been subjected to literally HOURS of misery as she drones on about her near-death experiences and life-threatening illnesses. Frankly, if she's been as ill as she claims, I don't know how she's still breathing. Everything with her is a downer. She NEVER smiles. Nothing she ever says is positive, even to the people she calls her friends. She's bitchy, she's rude and she sucks the energy out of every room she's in because of her perpetual whining.

I felt I'd dodged a bullet, what with the not getting trapped by her and all. When I go to class or if I just go to use the studio I generally use my IPod to zone out and work and the people that know me know that I'm not being rude, I'm just concentrating. If someone wants to talk to me, they either tap me on the shoulder or wave at me when I look up. It works.

The dilemma? I've been ignoring the Soul Sucker. I'm a pretty upbeat person (yeah, go ahead Tonto), and I'm there to work, so it's not a big deal. SHE on the other hand, has been hard at work on the rumor mill. Apparently I offended. There are people I've been friendly with for years that now give me shifty looks. The other day, I heard her lecturing a couple of people about what a "stuck up bitch" I am and how "mean" I've been to her. I think I've said ten words directly to her in the last five years.

So what to do? You all know that I'm the first one to tell anyone not to rent space in their heads to assholes. I don't have time for nasty people. Then again, what do I do at the studio? Let her spread her nasty little rumors? I suspect by now I eat babies and kick puppies according to her. Frankly, it's been a long time since I've had to be around anyone that's actively malicious towards me.

Do I call her on it? Do I tell her to piss off? Do I kill her with politeness? Do I shake her until her teeth rattle? Tell the boys I DON'T have cooties? My instinct is to not engage and let her shoot off her mouth. Eventually she'll yap to the wrong person and get told to shut up, right?


Comments are always welcome! I'm unavailable to write here next week, but I'll be checking in from time to time....


06 August 2010

Go ahead. Touch the sharp pointy thing. It won't hurt. Really.

(Photograph copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)

I'm back! Didja miss me? Didja? Oh. Did you even notice I was gone? Oh. Oh well. It was a great deal of fun anyway.

So this week, the letters are.... some say boring. Some say repetitive. I say to heck with that! I say that these folks are perfect, living examples of jumping off the bridge just because Billy does. That's right. These idiots are so credulous, so naive, so easily led that they demonstrate that people will believe just any damned thing someone told them once upon a time. Or that they read on that web site that gave them all the nasty viruses.

It's true, all true I tell ya! The moon really IS made of green cheese! Unicorns not only exist, they poop marshmallows and are the secret power behind Kraft Foods! The aliens have already been here so long that THEY ARE US! ( I double dog dare anyone to tell me where I stole that last bit from.) The medical community IS one big conspiracy....to make us eat fiber! There IS a Good Ship Lollipop! When the government says they're here to help, THEY ARE!

Yeesh. Off we go.

1. Ok. You got knocked up 20 years ago because you were bonking every guy that struck your fancy, and in the face of all the warnings that you got about sexually transmitted diseases, you believed horny little boys who told you that condoms "pinch". That was it, right? RIGHT? Now your daughter, who you have brainwashed into believing that she has to harass all of your former partners because she "deserves" to be in their wills wants to meet her biological father. The trouble is that you have NO FUCKING IDEA who that could be!


You've got a lot of gall, don't you? I don't believe for a millisecond that "Tom" and "Mike" are the only candidates for Daddy. They might be the only ones who told you their real surnames and gave you their real phone numbers, but that's about it. You thought you could control the situation, didn't you? You sincerely believed that if you pointed your daughter at a couple of these guys, it would shut her up about wanting to know who her other DNA donor is.

Boy did you screw that one up! It's bang normal for someone in their late teens to think that all of their problems will be solved if they can find their "real" parents. You've been evasive about who fathered her all her life, and now that she's calling you on it, you have to face the fact that you don't know!

I'm glad you got married, and I'm glad that your husband has been a good parent to your daughter. If you had half a brain in your head, you would have told your daughter that the guy who raised her and loved her all her life is her "real" father, not the sperm donor that you hooked up with when you were bored twenty years ago. But you didn't do that, so prepare to answer the following questions from the kid you lied to all her life:

a) Mom, what the hell were you doing risking your life (and mine) by fucking multiple men at the same time and not using any protection at all?

b) Mom, how fucking stupid do you have to be not to try and find out which one of those guys knocked you up so that you could at least get a little child support for me when I really needed that money? Or did you think it was all right to risk ending up on the street because you were too lazy to bother with all that?

c) Gee Mom, why should I believe anything you tell me now?

You say in your letter, "So now my daughter wants to go to Tom's house and meet him. What do I do?"

The answer to that is NOTHING. Stay out of it. Period. Your daughter is an adult, and who she chooses to speak to or not is HER decision. YOU were the one that launched her at this guy and YOU are going to be dealing with the fallout when she finds out that the poor bugger either really IS sterile or he lied to you. I know, you believed him when he told you that, didn't you, you silly moron. (No baby, it's true! I can't make babies, I'm sterile. See I have this note from the chess coach. I got kicked in the nuts when I won that last match.) Oldest trick in the book for avoiding condom use and you fell for it like, well, the idiot that you were at the time.

Eventually, your daughter is going to lose all respect for you, and not because you slept around before she was born. That's not even the issue here. In fact I'm all for a rollicking good sex life when you're young and single. No, she'll decide that she can't trust you not to lie every time you open your mouth. Hopefully her stepfather has enough sense to catch her when this all goes to smash. HE'S going to be the only one that poor kid can rely on here.

2. Oh yeah, here we go again. Yet another gormless twit that's been in law school for fifteen minutes and thinks that suing a lawyer is going to set her up for life. Really? How many idiots are going to write in to Prudie with this brilliant plan? I think I've seen it half a dozen times....but there will be more. There are ALWAYS more.

You say there's a dude who doesn't work for your company but can still see you at your desk who makes creepy comments to you. THEN, you pop out with, "...I overhear a lot of conversations I find highly offensive," and go on to say that this is a hostile work environment and you just can't deal with it.


So which one is it? How do you think you can scratch the most money out of the situation? Tape the lecherous lawyer or sue the whole firm because you listened in on conversations that didn't concern you? You have to decide, cookie. You don't get to have it both ways, you know.

Instead of telling Lecherous Louie to piss off with the leering and the rude comments, are you going to run whining to your boss like a five-year-old who's been told she has "cooties"? Or are you planning on leading him on, recording his every glance, breath, burp, and "hello" on the off chance that you might actually WIN a lawsuit or at least con him out of a settlement? I've got news for you, dear. You're going to lose that one. Especially when he tells your lawyer that you led him on so he would keep making the comments. That's called "trying to pull a fast one" and you clearly aren't smart enough to do it.

You gave yourself another out, though, didn't you? You read a paragraph somewhere about hostile work environments and maybe even a case study or two and decided that could be your ticket to life as the idle rich, right? I mean, it's worked for others, why not you?


Part of being a lawyer has to do with absolute discretion. The whole notion of confidentiality is crucial. If you decide to reveal private conversations that you were not a party to, that you actually had to make a special effort to LISTEN IN ON, then your ass is truly going to hit the frying pan, and that won't be chicken you smell cooking. You can try that suit. You might even win. But you will NEVER work as an attorney. Ever. Anywhere. You will be law firm poison. In fact, if you try either of your cheesy little plots, you might as well go work in the food service or call center industries right now. Because those are the only jobs you'll ever be able to get.

Look, we already know that you're an opportunistic money grubbing creep. It's not a far leap to become an opportunistic money grubbing whore, right? If you REALLY want to cash in, fuck Leering Louie. No, I mean that literally. Haul him into a supply closet and rip his clothes off on a regular basis for the rest of the summer....convince him that he IS The Man, compliment his, er, physique at every opportunity.....meet him in seedy hotels, whatever it takes to get knocked up. Tell him you're on the Pill. If you ARE on the Pill, stop taking it. Duh. Keep the baby. Make him pay you....say child support AND a big whack of cash so you'll keep your mouth shut. You don't want to marry the guy, right? All you're after is the cash!

THAT'S a con that's about perfectly geared both for your intelligence AND your level of integrity. And just think, if you keep your figure for awhile, you can do it more than once!

*Shudder. What is the matter with people like this? Is it that bad to actually earn money by working for it? Like getting a degree and working at a job? She's just yucky on so many levels.*

3. You don't like your Dad. Check. Nothing odd about that. Not all relatives are adorable, and even nasty people reproduce on occasion. Talking to him is something you avoid if you can, but you remain civil. Civil is good. Civil might keep you in the will. Civil won't result in your mother or siblings getting up your nose about how "mean" you are not to adore the old coot. As a plan, I like it. As a plan, A+.

But... somehow he discovered Facebook. Oops. He wants to be your friend. Oops. Oh shit, right? If you do make him your FB buddy, he's going to find out about all the nasty things you said about him! So much for staying in the will, right?


I have an answer for you, but you're not going to like it. Here goes (and I know I sound like an old lady here, so suck it up): If you are posting things on Facebook that you don't want known to the entire world, DON'T POST THEM.

Isn't that easy? I don't care what your settings are. I don't care how easy it makes communication with all of your sixty gazillion "friends". You don't get to post everything about your life on the Internet and expect to have any privacy left at all. Period. There ARE no private conversations on the web. There is no way you can keep any secrets. If you choose to put your entire life on display, then you can't whine when someone wants in.

So to the solution. Either cancel your account, which is what I would do, because it creeps me out no end that anyone would open themselves, their spouse, their children and their personal information to the world, OR..... write your father a letter. On paper. With a pen. It's easy. I'll help:

a) First you have to get a piece of paper. White is a good color. Men in general don't generally appreciate the fancy stationery or scented pens and crap like that. No. Construction paper does NOT count. And you may NOT use paper with lines on it unless you're under ten years old. No, you may NOT tear out the end paper of a book. Plain. White. Paper. Copy paper will work.

b) Ok. Got your paper? Now you need a pen. No. A Sharpie marker is not acceptable. Neither is crayon, pencil crayon or grape-scented washable markers. Find an actual pen. It doesn't matter if it's a ball point or roller ball....and it doesn't matter if the ink is blue or black (black is better - he's 80, it's easier to see). No, not red, not green.

c) Now you need to sit down on a chair, at a table or desk. No. CLOSE the laptop. Push it to the back of the desk. You won't be using it. Good. Put the paper on the table, open the pen.....

d) Write the date at the top of the page. What? How can you not know the date? Where the hell is your calendar? What do you mean "what's a calendar?!" Oh all right. Open the damned computer. It should be in "Dashboard". Good. Now. Write the date. With the pen. On the paper. Yes, it IS all right if you print. *shaking head sadly*

e) Now you're ready to write a letter. Start with "Dear Dad", tell him ONLY what you want him to know, sign it "Your Loving and Devoted Daughter" and put it in an envelope upon which you have written his address, put a stamp on it..... A stamp. You may have heard of them. They're sold at places called "Post Offices". No really, Post Offices not only exist, they're in your neighborhood...... Oh shut up. Here's a goddamned stamp. It goes on...never mind. I'll do that for you.

f) Put the photographs you want him to see (or a zip drive - he does have a computer you know) in the envelope, seal it and walk it to a mail box. No. A REAL mail box. They're blue. Yeah... with the flippy lid. No, they AREN'T fancy recycling bins...No, you're thinking of a Tardis....

In a couple of days, he'll get the letter, find out what you want him to know, and he'll be a happy camper. Do this every couple of months or so and you can even skive off phoning the man if you want to.

Problem solved. Twit.

4. Oh dear. AGAIN we get subjected to "my boyfriend is the perfectest perfect person in the whole wide wonderful world but..."

Can it. We've all heard it before. Wasn't there some idiot who was willing to dump her man because her friends said he wasn't good-looking enough here a couple of months back? Was it even on Prudie? Oh well. It might have been somewhere else. Nonetheless, shit like this is shoveled by the truckload in advice columns.

You're single. He's single. You like each other. Hell, you even love each other. Life together for the long haul is not out of the question. You're both happy... Do you have any idea how rare that is? That two people get along so well that meshing their lives is just one happy process with no angst and ugliness? Clearly not. Sigh.

Naturally, you have to dump a fly in the ointment. A whole bloody swarm of them. You just had to, didn't you? I mean, you can't just let things progress and have a happy and fulfilling life. Nooooooo that would be too easy. YOU have to listen to a jealous bitch "friend" who's trying to destroy all that....and you're actually considering LETTING her do that!


What is this bullshit about it being "normal" to fight? What the hell is that? Your FRIEND might think that's normal, no doubt because the weekly donnybrook is the only time she and HER husband interact at all. Did it ever cross your pointed little brain that she's jealous because you're happier than she is? No? Has it not crossed your mind that fighting all the time is not only stressful and hard on a relationship, but NOT HEALTHY?

Listen. No one goes through life without strife. When two adults live together, they are not going to instantly agree on everything. That's normal. What's NOT normal is living for the moment you're screaming at each other like a couple of deranged howler monkeys. It's NOT normal to actually look forward to flying crockery, stomping around like a surly adolescent or slamming doors. It's NOT normal to have to budget a few hundred dollars a month to repair drywall and replace broken windows. NOT NORMAL.

There are MILLIONS of couples who don't do this. They get along. They make each other happy. They WORK at making each other happy. Arguments are few and not heated. They do this for decades at a time. Many of them do this until they die, and THEY LIKE IT THAT WAY. It's normal to be happy. It's normal to be loved and to love someone without drama. If you can manage this, then yes, you will run across jealous assholes like your "dear friend" who are so envious of your success that they'll try to smash your life so you'll be as miserable as they are.

This woman is no friend of yours. If you permit her to split up a relationship that makes you happy, then you are a fool. Tell her ONCE that you aren't interested in the commentary about your relationship and if she can't just be happy for you, she can get lost. Dump HER, keep HIM and don't let anyone tell you how you should feel. HE is the most important person in your life. Not her. Grow the fuck up and own your life.

Have the fun, drink the wine, enjoy the sex and feel free to be a bit smug about it. You've both earned that right.