22 December 2011
(Photograph copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Solstice! Joyeux Noel! ..... I can't cover every single holiday. Happy December!
The days are getting longer, and thank goodness for that. I hate waking up in the dark, coming home in the dark, and all of the gloomy days of winter. Granted, The City Of Wind has had an exceptionally mild winter so far, but winter-climate people are not sanguine about what the rest of the season is going to be like. If you smile and comment on how nice it it outside, you are greeted with scowls and dire predictions about the four feet of snow that are going to fall all at once on January 1st, starting at the crack of midnight.
I just don't care. I'll take it a day at a time, and every day spent not shovelling snow is a good one as far as I'm concerned.
We have no tree this year. Instead, we're off to see the in-laws, and a lovely time it's promising to be. Still, I felt compelled to include a photo of a tree at least, so here it is. I thought I'd show you just why it is we can't used the pretty glass decorations any more. Nini is tree-obsessed. She's stopped climbing it now, but all ornaments that are up to three feet off the floor are now fair game.
They play whiffle ball with the steel bells. They leap feet in the air to grab the anodized aluminum twirly icicles that I got from Lee Valley Tool (you should go to their site, they have the coolest stuff). I bought a bunch of stuffed-toy ornaments last year and Charlie appropriated one of them to be his woogie. It is his personal teddy bear and woe betide the person or cat that defiles the woogie by say, picking it up....
However, we soldier on. The tree has changed, the venue changes regularly and the world continues to rotate. We must be doing something right, because it's all fun. Too bad this week's writers to Prudie are all a bunch of assholes (see my last column for an explanation of that term)
1. Oh boo hoo! When you were an iddle bitty baby you sat under YOUR tree in YOUR house with YOUR brother and opened presents and it was all Norman Rockwelly and everyone obeyed your little whims so you wouldn't throw a screaming tantrum if one detail changed.....
Christmas Eve is being celebrated at what you call your sister-in-law's house (as if your brother doesn't live there), her family is going to be there, and your parents think this is a terrific idea. Your parents hosted them once, last year you saw them again, and all this makes you "...so mad about it that it makes me cry."
You go on to say that "Christmas Eve has been ruined!" You're even threatening not to celebrate this year....
What do you want? Do you want to go home, put on your Rudolph jammies, leave cookies and milk out for Santa and then have Mommy tuck you into your crib with a teddy and your bot bot? Do you expect your parents to be waiting, fully dressed, for you to come downstairs in the morning and serve you coffee and pancakes while you play in the shredded paper, ignoring your presents? Are you still adding to your Barbie collection?
Grow the fuck up, sister.
How dare you try and dictate how two entire families celebrate Christmas! You arrogant little shit. Your brother's in-laws have made what I consider to be a superhuman effort to include everyone in HIS family at their Christmas party because they love him and they want him to be happy. They're going out of their way to create traditions that don't force this couple to travel all over Hell's half acre every year just so they can see both sets of parents.
It's clear that your parents don't have a problem with this. In fact, I'm betting that they're both relieved that they don't have to cater to your childish fantasies any more. Has it occurred to you that THEY might want a break in routine?
Actually, your family relationships are a little warped in your own head, aren't they? You whine because one Christmas was spent at your sister-in-law's house. What the hell is that, little girl? That is your brother's home. It's his house as well. Or are you still harboring fantasies that you can break them up and he'll just come running home to your little cocoon?
Go, don't go, nobody cares. Not your parents, not your brother, not his in-laws... In fact, they'd probably jump for joy if they knew that the family wet blanket wasn't going to be there. That way no one has to apologize for your appalling behavior.
2. Families are weird, aren't they? We all have a family member that we don't want to deal with. It could be a bitchy aunt, a drunk uncle, a weird cousin, a mean rotten brother.
And this is the dilemma facing you. Your brother has been a truly ghastly person for most of your life. He said and did things that were so rotten, so evil, that you finally cut off all contact. When he married, it just got worse. The whole family took the brunt of his foul temper and nasty remarks. His nastygrams became legendary...
But wait. He divorced. He's trying to make nice. He sent you presents. You don't know what to do. I don't blame you.
No SHADDAPS for you.
You're overthinking this. Your parents and sister may have accepted your brother back into their lives, but you don't trust him. Who could blame you for that?
It sounds to me like your brother had a problem with drugs or alcohol, or maybe there's some mental illness involved. Could he be bipolar? You don't know. He sounds contrite, and he may very well be trying to apologize, but you don't have to take everything at face value.
If he's in some sort of substance abuse program, there's an exercise that they have to do. It's lifted right out of the AA playbook and involves apologizing to everyone they've hurt with their problems. A good counselor will have told him that not everyone is going to accept this from him. He's hurt you deeply - he can't expect forgiveness for everything.
I understand that you'd like to believe him. You don't have to dive in to a relationship with your brother all at once. He sent gifts, so send him a lovely card thanking him and (like Prudie says) wishing him well. That's all you need to do . He doesn't have any right to expect that you'll believe he's changed. He does not have the right to be allowed back in your life after one peacemaking gesture.
3. This letter was a load of trivial bullshit. You moved away from home, aren't even a token Catholic any more and now you don't want to go to Mass on Christmas Eve. You know you'll hurt your mother's feelings if you don't go.
Grow the fuck up, you whiner!
You know that your family goes to mass every single Christmas Eve. This was not a surprise. You knew when you got on that airplane to visit that this would be expected of you. So what? You want to all get together and play Candyland instead of going to one of the two religious services a year that your parents find important?
You petty bitch!
You think your parents were thrilled to go to your piano (or whatever) recitals year after year and listen to dozens of little kids plinking away at "Three Blind Mice"? Do you think they had nothing better to do than go to your soccer (or whatever) games just to watch you warm the bench for a couple of hours? Were you such an angel that you only brought them joy and never, ever broke stuff, barfed all night, had screaming tantrums, and whatever else kids do that drive their parents bananas?
Where the hell do you get off thinking that you should be able to tell them what to do on a holiday that they celebrate?
Your parents' home is no longer "your house". It's theirs. THEY are generously hosting you for the holidays and you are a guest in THEIR home. They don't have to do it, either. It doesn't matter if they're your parents, they celebrate in a certain way, you knew that going in, and you don't get to whine about it now. It's called "being polite". No one gives a rat's ass what you think about religion in general or the Church specifically. Not your parents, not the priest, not the other congregants...NO ONE cares about your little, piffling rant.
You want advice? Shut the fuck up. Go to Mass for an hour. Smile. Shake hands if it's expected. About half the congregation won't be taking communion, so sit quietly while others do. Go home after Christmas and do whatever the hell you want next year.
4. Ooh, you're a prize, aren't you? What a couple of petty bitches you and your sister are! An aunt and uncle who you only see once a year send you a gift of $30.00 every Christmas and you don't like it?
Grr. This is a two-SHADDAP letter! You want to tell these kind and generous people who have never done anything but good things for you that you don't want their presents any more? It's crappy enough that you'd even consider saying that out loud, but your reason just sends me around the twist.
You don't want to bother sending a card thanking them.
Grow the fuck up. Both of you.
Where do you get off, planning to hurt the feelings of these two lovely people? What have they ever done to you that you can justify deliberately being nasty to them?
You claim to be adults, so act the part. Have a package of "Thank You" cards in your desk at home at all times. ALL adults should have one of these. If you don't, go buy some. Use the $30.00 that you don't need, idiot. Write a short note:
"Dear Auntie ___ and Uncle___
Thank you so much for your gift. I used it to take a friend out to lunch and we had a lovely time.
I hope your holiday was enjoyable.
It takes mere minutes. As one poster pointed out, it takes less time than you took to whine to Prudie. Get over yourselves.
Yeesh. Holidays always bring out the whining, the bitching, the petty bickering, don't they? I think I need to make some rules for attending Christmas gatherings in other peoples' homes....
1. SHADDAP! Whatever arguments, hurt feelings or whining you've been itching to do on the holidays, DON'T. You chose to go to someone's home for Christmas, even if it's your parents house, and you owe them basic good manners. That means swallowing offense sometimes. Deal.
2. Don't take any crap. I know this sounds like it conflicts with Rule 1, but hear me out. If the holidays are unbearable with your family, then don't go. Some of us were abused, some of us get picked at and compared unfavorably to others, some just dread the thought of going to *that place* on Christmas.
You have my permission to opt out. The first time, this is difficult. You'll feel strange doing it. Make an excuse, say you have plans and then make the plans. You'll be amazed at how good it feels. Trust me on this.
3. Don't bring up old arguments just because everyone's in the same room together and a couple of glasses of wine make you feel like it.
4. You aren't a kid any more. You don't have the right to expect or demand that everything go the way you think it should, just because it was *always that way before*. Life means change.
5. No matter how silly or useless the present is, thank the person who gave it to you.
My Auntie Rose, who was my great-grandmother's youngest sister, used to send me a pink sweater every year for Christmas. She did this because I was a platinum blond baby and she thought pink was perfect. It was perfect, when I was a platinum blond baby. My hair rapidly changed to a ginger/mouse combination and my eyes ended up being the color of a Sprite bottle and pink was just...bad on me. Still is.
I said nothing. Every year, I gave my pink sweater to my younger sister, who had very dark hair and bright blue eyes and loved pink. She kept the blue sweater she got, too. Usually they were too small for me. Then I sat down and sent Auntie Rose a card, thanking her for my gift. I'm glad I did. She was a dear, lovely lady who had a tough life. I hope that card brought her a little happiness. I only wish I was getting a pink sweater to re-gift this year.
6. Don't bitch about the food. There's nothing worse than inviting some idiot over who spends an entire evening babbling on about how THEIR mom cooked the turkey and how THEY really missed having apple pie for dinner.
Making dinner for a crowd is hard work. LOTS of hard work. If you don't like something keep your mouth shut and don't eat it.
7. Dress for the occasion. No one expects evening wear (ok, some do, most don't), but you don't get to show up in sweats or manky jeans and a food-stained sweatshirt for Christmas dinner. Wear clean clothing. If you wear jeans, don't pick the ones with the hole in the ass. No one needs to see that. Wear proper shoes. Shower in the morning (some don't, you know). Comb your hair. Brush your teeth. Be presentable.
8. ALWAYS bring a hostess gift. It doesn't have to be expensive. Some lovely paper cocktail napkins, maybe. Chocolate is always a winner. Wine always good, but there's an etiquette to that. Any wine you bring will probably NOT be consumed at dinner. It's a gift, after all. The menu is already set, and you don't get to change it.
9. Be polite. Say "please" and "thank you". Don't shout. Listen without interrupting when someone is speaking to you and respond only when they're done speaking. Sit up straight. Chew with your mouth closed. Don't belch at the table. Don't take your teeth out where anyone can see you. Try to contain your farts until you make it to the bathroom. Offer to help carry things. What have I missed?
You'd think I wouldn't have to tell adults these things, but you'd be amazed at how many don't know this stuff.
10. Thank your host. Thank them when you leave, then send them a nice card thanking them for your hospitality when you get home. ALWAYS do this. Your hosts went to a lot of time, trouble and expense to host you and yours and they deserve to be thanked. So do it.
Happy Holidays, All!
I'll see you in the New Year.
09 December 2011
(Photograph copyright November 2011, all rights reserved.)
I know, I know. I've been promising a new post for weeks and nothing's been happening. Well, the photo shows where I was for one of those weeks, anyway. Yes, that is the Eiffel Tower. The Boy and I spent Thanksgiving in Paris, and it was the best ever. I love that town! I also got to meet Marcparis of Fray fame, and I have to thank him so much for taking me out for the best chocolate in the world. The man is a sweetheart.
I also had an adventure this week. I went to the dentist for a simple cleaning on Wednesday morning. No big deal. It takes an hour at most. I planned on heading off to class afterwards provided I didn't need any work done. Then (cue mournful violins) when I got there, someone had decided to fill the air with multiple cheap scented candles.
Now I know the media LOVES to shove scented candles at people. Celebrity profiles always seem to have a "favorite things" list, and there's a goddamned candle on every single one. Stores put the foul-smelling things right on the front display, right where they can make my nose run and my eyes pour water. Clearly I'm not the only one, either. There always seems to be a jumbo pack of tissue somewhere on the display. Two minutes after getting in the door, I look like I've been on a three day drunk and I know I'll be popping Benadryl for days.
This was the worst, though. THIS particular aromatic hydrocarbon-infused petroleum-based bewicked vessel was spewing something worse than natural gas emissions. Dirty coal power plants spew less vileness in the air than these things did. I've smelled skunk, rotten egg, and decomposing rat, and they are ALL less disgusting than that candle. One woman was sitting in the waiting room with her scarf over her entire face. Another was green-complected and looked as though she was contemplating a dash to the toilet.
I got a migraine. The fourth in my life. I've seldom felt as foul as I did when I got home. I didn't stay for my cleaning. I rescheduled the appointment and literally ran out the door, where I spent two light changes inhaling exhaust fumes to get the burning reek of those "candles" out of my nose.
So here it's Friday, and I've almost recovered from the headache. Almost. It's still lurking there, behind my left eye. Waiting for someone to assault the world with another fucking rotten goddamned stinking vile candle-like object to reappear in its migrainish agonizing glory, causing me to take massive doses of painkillers and lock myself in my (clean, fragrance-free) home for another couple of days.
A word of advice. Leave the cheap-ass candles in the store. The expensive ones are just as bad. If you use them people assume things. They wonder if you have a mold problem that you're covering up. They wonder if you have a garbage fetish and it's all stored in your bedroom, so you need to cover the stench. They wonder if your cooking is so vile that the smell of phony gardenias is actually better. They wonder if the dog has been allowed to pee all over the house........
Now for the letters. Prudie really cacked it up this week. Why am I not surprised?
1. Your husband left you for your 25-year-old daughter. You are understandably "...heartbroken, betrayed, and furious..." . All perfectly normal. I'd be worried if you weren't feeling these things. Now,
Prudie told you that your daughter is probably mentally ill and will come running to Mommy (that would be you), groveling for forgiveness sometime in the future.... Well... bullshit, Prudie.
See, there's a difference between being mentally ill and being an asshole. Assholism is a character flaw, NOT an illness. It can't be cured. If a kid makes it to adulthood and behaves like an asshole, then all hope is gone. Once an asshole, always an asshole. Some mentally ill people can ALSO be assholes, and the asshole part of things will most assuredly remain even if the mental illness is medicated away.
Nice people can give birth to assholes. Nice parents are often gobsmacked when they realize that they've spawned an asshole and will spend decades blaming themselves for it, but the simple truth is that assholery is born in the blood. Generations can pass and no assholes will show up in a family, then *WHAM*, along comes a prize asshole, right when no one was expecting it.
So LW, you both married and gave birth to a pair of assholes. I know Prudie was trying to preserve some sort of motherly feeling with her "mental illness" schtick, but that's too bad. There's nothing wrong with your daughter OR your soon-to-be ex husband that any form of mental health therapy will fix.
Feel free not to speak to either of these people, ever again. Communicate through lawyers. Don't let them in your house, tell them never to contact you again, even when the divorce happens. There will be a split between these two assholes in the future. Your daughter isn't going to stay young forever, and it sounds like your ex has a thing for younger women...as well as women who are assholes.
Time and counselling for YOU are the only things that will abate your agony over the asshole behavior of the two assholes that you were unfortunate enough to be related to. Nurture your anger for awhile - at least as long as it takes to divorce the first asshole and get the second one out of your life.
2. Your daughter has a Grabby Grandad that grabs her at every opportunity and won't let go. You wonder if it's all right to put a stop to this?
There's a lot of other stuff in your letter. Your in-laws expect to be worshipped, they treat you like crap, even your husband doesn't like them, and so on. Shit like this happens to other people, so you're not alone in any of it.
Your in-laws are assholes. See above.
People have already told you not to take this bullshit any more. They've already said that you have to make your husband deal with his parents. They're right, but they don't go far enough.
Tell your daughter (five now, right?), that if she doesn't want to go near Grabby Grandad, she doesn't have to. EVER. No matter what anyone might tell her, she has every right to never be touched by him again. Tell her that if she feels even slightly uncomfortable, she is to say "no" as loud as she wants to and to run to where you are. You have to defend her. YOU are the one that has to be her gatekeeper.
If anyone says a word to you, tell them to piss off. Use those words.
Now that that's settled, you must tell your husband that you will not permit these people in your house. Tell him also that you will not be taking your child over to their place, either. Tell him (are you getting that I'm not saying the word "ask"?) that if there are to be visits, your daughter will be with YOU at all times, supervised and never left alone with either grandparent.
3. Yadda yadda yadda. Yap skawk, bitch, complain, whine........ your girlfriend's stepfather paints nude portraits of her and it squicks you out. Whatever.
Listen asshole, YOU are the only one that has a problem with this. You say she's your long-term girlfriend, so I'm assuming that she's a nice lady with no issues. LISTEN to her.
YOU are the one with the issues. Did you think that you're the only person who's ever going to see her without a long sleeved shirt in her life? Deal with it. Your girlfriend has been and probably will continue to be a nude model. It's a tradition of the art world. Suck it up.
If you're going to continue being an asshole over this, don't be surprised if you suddenly end up single, with only other assholes for company.
Now get lost, kid. You bother me.
4. You have your blankie. Your boyfriend says that's gross and wants you to get rid of it.
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Your blankie is none of his damned business and if you want to have it around you, then go for it.
I have a manky old worn-out ugly brown sweater that I put on when I'm stressed out. It's oversized and very soft and it's never going to be seen in public, but it's mine and I need it sometimes. The Boy still has his blankie in the closet. When he's sick with a cold or the flu, only the blankie is good enough to cover him up on the couch. I also still have my first teddy bear, and HE gets hauled out to use as a pillow when I get sick.
These are all normal things. Just about everyone has something like this. Here's what you tell your boyfriend:
"Hey asshole, shut up about the blankie! This is not a discussion, I'm telling you to shut up about the blankie."
If he persists, he's proving that he's more invested in being an asshole than a boyfriend. Let him meet up at the asshole bar with LW #3.
My dentist did call yesterday afternoon to apologize and promises that on the days when I have to come in, there will be no candle. Thank goodness for that! He's a great dentist.
20 October 2011
(Photographs copyright 2011, all rights reserved.)
Well, it's a gray old day in the City of Wind. The temperature is low, it's raining and dark, and this morning the wind was so bad that people were being warned to stay away from Lakeshore Drive because the waves were coming up on to the freeway. No kidding. Keep in mind that Lakeshore is a major part of many, many people's commute.
I know this is a precursor to winter. I know that snow will be here sooner than anyone wants. I also know that by tomorrow, the nasty part of the weather will go away, the temperature will rise, and life will be good again.
Lest anyone wonder about my suspiciously good mood - some of you are well acquainted with my loathing of all things winter - consider the photos above. They are recent, taken on my first trip to the Brookfield Zoo, and I only went there after almost six years of living here because my good and trusty friend from Texas was here and she wanted to go.
It was a good decision. She is one smart lady. Given that the day is so gray and dreary, I figured that some color was called for. I'm pretty pleased with these pictures. Thanks to an excellent zoom feature and very fast shutter speeds, they turned out pretty well. The fish is about 1 1/2 inches long and was at the other end of a large aquarium. What's not to love?
Sigh. But now I have to confront the stupid. Find the letters here (Ok Slate, you win, you bastards. I can't believe you won't allow me to post the link.)
Kids - go to the link above, click on "life", then go to "Dear Prudence". Sorry about the link. Grrr.
1. To summarize (for those that don't want to follow the intensely overcomplicated link).... This LW's 21-year-old college student sister is pregnant, and the baby is going to be put up for adoption. The LW is bitter. She says that their parents are well off, little sis's education is being paid for, and therefore she should keep the baby, giving it over to the LW for "babysitting". But the following statement tells all:
"After all, she got herself into this mess, and it doesn't seem fair that she just gets to put up the child for adoption and resume her life."
So, here goes:
SHADDAP! you stupid bitch!
See, I know where you're coming from....
You're still stinging because when YOU got knocked up and quit college to marry your swain, YOU never went back. I'm guessing the marriage was a hideous mistake, you resent your children for trapping you into a motherhood that you weren't ready for, and now you want to take that out on your sister, who is far more a grownup than you'll ever be.
I'm right, aren't I? See, you didn't have the intestinal fortitude or the maturity that your sister has. You never considered adoption because you thought (like most dummies that should never reproduce) that having a baby would be the perfect toy for you to trap your man and never work again. Too bad you didn't even consider that babies are not toys and the guys you sleep with when you're very young are almost never the ones you want to stay with for the rest of your life.....
You want to punish your sister because you were too stupid, too gutless, too selfish to do what she's doing. Believe me, the decision to give up this child is tearing her apart. I can't imagine how hard this is for her. Hopefully your parents are better people than you are. No doubt they're hideously embarrassed to think that, in spite of their best efforts, they've raised a self-righteous shrew.
Your sister KNOWS she's doing the right thing. She's chosen an excellent couple raise her baby. When this is done, she'll be able to finish school, start a career, and have her future children with less stress and will be a better parent as a result. That is her absolute right, and she doesn't need your permission or approval on any of this.
The LAST thing she needs is to have some self-righteous, bitter, ugly, stupid broad telling her what an awful person she is. And you would be just as nasty if she kept that baby, wouldn't you? Your sister can't win with you. Either you abuse her for making the hardest decision she's had to make in her life so far, or you can babysit her child and spend your time telling that child what a whore her mother is.
Your sister has every right in the world to resume her life. If you had one yourself, you would know this.
Get lost, dumbass. I hope your sister has enough sense to cut off all contact with you. Find something else to resent in your lonely, tedious life.
2. Sigh. Here we go again. A new-to-the-neighborhood kid is being bullied in Girl Scouts by the same girls that bully her at school. Mom confronts the troop leader who happens to be the parent of one of the nasty little shits. Troop leader blames new kid, and Mom APOLOGISES?
Listen Mom, what the hell were you trying to accomplish? If it's to model wussy behavior, then you get a gold star! What's with that apology? Is that what you want to teach your daughter? "Crap on me and I'll cringe, pee on the floor, and make nice"? You aren't raising a submissive collie here, you're raising a LITTLE GIRL. What the hell kind of role model are you, anyway?
Your husband is right. Tell your daughter (because it's the truth) that some people are just mean, and while they might not know any other way to behave, that is not your daughter's problem. It's all right to avoid these people and never speak to them again. She has the absolute right to choose her friends AND the right to choose who she won't try to befriend.
Teach your daughter that nasty little shits like the girls that are bullying her are nasty little shits and that she doesn't have to listen to their crap. She can walk away and she NEVER should be made to try and "go along to get along". That way lies a lifetime of accepting whatever shit and abuse anyone wants to level on her. Model smart, tough behavior with the nasty little shits' parents and DON'T let anyone get away with hurting your child.
Quit that Girl Scout troop, NOW. Call whatever governing body there is (I don't know these things, no kids.) and tell them exactly what's going on. In detail. Send copies of everything you send to everyone you can think of. Find another troop. Sign your daughter up IF and only if she wants to join.
Deal with the school separately. Demand that classes be changed, that homerooms be changed, whatever it takes for your daughter to be comfortable. Go the the principal EVERY SINGLE TIME you find out about the bullying. Find out (if you can) what other girls are having problems with the nasty little shits and get their parents on board. I guarantee they're as angry as you are - maybe worse. Send every e-mail to the principal, to the School Board, and the Superintendent of Schools where you live. Don't allow yourself to be fobbed off on the phone.
If you won't stand up for your daughter, she'll never learn to stand up for herself. Don't raise a little girl. Raise an independent woman.
3. And here's another woman who's choosing to embrace the stupid rather than make a fucking decision. to summarize:
The LW works for a dentist who is completely off his rocker. He has panic attacks. He's paranoid and accuses his staff of stealing and being incompetent, he yells and screams and threatens suicide - IN FRONT OF HIS PATIENTS. The LW is wondering how to make the situation all nice and pretty without hurting the doctor's feelings...
She sounds like one of the morons that write to Prudie (et al) saying something like: "My boyfriend is the bestest bestest boyfriend in the whole wide world and I loooooooooooooooooove him, but he - insert here - (a) ties me up and covers me with bacon in a room with his pit bulls before he goes to work every day, (b) used hot pokers to pierce my ears, (c) beats me with a stick every other Thursday, (d) screws my "best friend" in front of me..... Whatever. You get my gist.
Listen, moron. Your boss is a nutter. Seriously. Are you going to wait until he brings a gun to work and starts shooting before you say something to someone? Really? How dumb are you? Believe me when I say he just doesn't care about his staff, his patients, or anything else right now....because HE'S A NUTTER. Barking mad. Insane. Riding the crazy cart. Whatever euphemism you choose. Fill in the blank.
For all those people in the comment section of Slate who are recommending that you try and "help" this man, forget it. I see the usual suspects are already coming up with bullshit excuses and diagnoses for the guy. It doesn't matter. You got that? It doesn't matter if he's schizophrenic, bipolar, doing meth, or smoking crack. That is not your problem. In fact, your life would be easier if he just jumped off a high place and killed himself. NOT YOUR PROBLEM.
You have a code of ethics, too. You have to go to his governing body and tell them what's going on. This man should not be out in public, let alone working on people's mouths. How are you going to feel when - because it feels like when, not if - he loses it and hurts someone and YOU could have stopped it?
Here's what you do. Stop going to work. Now. Call and tell everyone you quit. NEVER go back there. Make them mail your check. I mean this. This guy is beyond just eccentric, he is actively nuts and potentially dangerous.
Good dental hygienists are in demand and there are (phobias notwithstanding) a LOT of very nice dentists out there.
4. Ah yes... This woman writes that her husband and his brother habitually lie about their children's ages just so they can get into Disneyland on the cheap. She doesn't like it. She thinks it's stealing. She doesn't like what it's teaching the kids.
This IS stealing. It IS teaching the kids that stealing is all right. It IS a stupid thing to do. YOU ARE RIGHT, woman! So it's time to make a fucking decision, idiot!
So why are you still participating in this bullshit? Do you LIKE that your husband has decided to turn your child into a miniature larcenist? Is that all right with you?
Get a fucking grip. Stop playing their game. Tell your husband that he's acting like a jackass and there will be no more trips to ANY amusement park if there's even a hint that he's going to do this again. Make damned sure he knows you mean this.
If he DOES try this line of crap again, then calmly go up to the ticket booth, tell the nice person that your husband is joking, and PAY THEM. Duh. Point out to your idiot husband that if saving the money on ONE KID is that important, then it's clear you can't afford for anyone to go.
Quit being such a fucking sissy and stand up for your kid.
Yeah, yeah I know. I'll save you the trouble of getting on my tits about how I should be "supportive" of all the others who share my gender. Give me a fucking break. If it were men that were screwing around making stupid (or no) decisions, I'd be as hard on them. You know this.
Ah... Time to retire to a delicious dinner, a glass of wine, and a cat on my lap. Perfect therapy for miserable weather.
29 September 2011
(Photograph copyright 2011, all rights reserved.)
Meet Sarah. She is the most reserved..... ok. Why gild the lily? She's schizy and skittish and all of those other adjectives that one would give to any kitty who runs and hides when the phone rings...but only sometimes. Sometimes, she can stare down the garbage truck and I'm sure she thinks she's terrorized it into going away. Other times, she hears it a block away and scoots upstairs to hide under the bed.
The first couple of times the cat sitter came in when we were out of town, he says he didn't know we had a third cat. Now she shamelessly cadges treats and acts cute for him.
We think there's a little Siamese in that gene pool, too. When she was about six months old, she started getting black hairs around her face and ears and she has a few black whiskers. Of course, she can be as silly as any cat. She also has a thing for riding on my shoulder. In her world, this means an endless hug and a chance to purr in my ear and nuzzle my chin. It was easier to let her do this when she weighed four pounds than now, when she tips in at eleven.
What a don't get is why this bundle of solid muscle (she's scary-strong, just try to clip her toenails) who is faster than just about any cat I've ever seen lets the other two pick on her. They bug and bug and she takes it. Until..... Until it goes too far, or someone nips her tail or ear. Then she goes postal, chases the offender until they keel over panting and swats them three or four times for good measure.
The moral? Well let's see. Everyone has a certain bullshit tolerance. Mine is as close to zero as I could get and still qualify as "human". My favorite quote is from (of all people) Judge Judy, "Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining". Sarah has a fairly high bullshit tolerance because she's a sweet girl. Even she has a breaking point, though and woe betide the one who exceeds it!
(Find the letters here(ish):
1. I have to say, I don't have a good SHADDAP! for you. You don't deserve one. You have been through an absolutely vile childhood that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Your mother sounds like a monster among humans. People like her are sadly not that rare, either. The form may change, but the level of abuse you suffered is all too common. If you doubt this, have a look at the comments below the letters this week.
You're amazing, though, you know that? You are a truly fantastic person. It's a tribute to your strength, bravery and sheer toughness that you've managed to make a good life for yourself, with a devoted husband and friends who love you. You earned your life and you deserve what you've got now. I can only admire someone who's done what you have.
I only have a few of suggestions for you. If someone tells you to "forgive" your mother, tell them to pound sand. What she did to you is unforgiveable, and it's all right if you're angry about it. You have every right to be furious with her.
I see that some of your siblings are still in contact with your mother. I can't see why they'd do that, because that's just not who I am. Please, please don't let your siblings bully you into seeing your abuser. I've heard all that nonsense too, about my father, the scumball. You'll hear about how she's getting older, or that she's lonely, or that she'd really like to see you.... and you know what? No one has the right to say that to you. If you don't want to see her, tell your siblings to
Enough is enough. Don't let them nag, either. If they won't stop babbling about it, then leave. Walk away. Make it clear that this topic is not open for discussion and if they're going to bring it up all the time, then you'll have to end the conversation. Then do it. Do it every time they bring it up.
I have another request for you, too. See a therapist, even if it's only for a couple of visits. There are good therapists and bad ones. Some will be not good for you, but fine with other people. You don't want someone who is just going to make you re-live that stuff and cry on their furniture. You want someone who will help you find real ways to cope with your feelings and realize that what happened is over and YOU are in control of your feelings now.
This is not going to be easy. I had nightmares for years, too. A wonderful, supportive husband helps. Talk to your doctor. Find a therapist who you feel comfortable with. If you work at it, eventually you'll find that you can put this in the past. You will never forget it, but you'll learn to live with it. Realize that she no longer has any power over you except that which you give her. Then take it back.
2. Ok, I read your letter. You used to go out of your way to be an asshole (I'm going to assume you're male.), dress like a slob and push people around at work. You even cop to being childish. In short, like Prudie said, you're the jerk that everyone writes to her about.
But oh! An epiphany! A baby is coming and you had a change of heart! You have started to remember the manners your Mommy taught you. You've learned not to dress in the dark any more! You're beginning to act like a grownup!
That's all very well and good, but you wrap it all up with the following two sentences:
"Is there anything I should do that will make people realize that I've changed? Or should I just go somewhere else if I want different treatment?
What the hell did you expect? A good conduct trophy? Not happening, boyo. You haven't changed in the least. You're still acting like a spoiled child. Jerk.
And so what? You wanna take your truckie and go away to pout because people are proving a little more immune to your manipulation than the average six-year-old? Double jerk.
No one trusts you and they're wary of this so-called "change" you've worked on yourself because they're convinced it's just another stop on the road to Assholeville for you.
You've given them no reason to like you and in fact, you've given them every reason to avoid you like the plague. You have no right to demand anything from these people and you can't "make" them change their minds about you. Even serious grovelling is not going to help you out. You've never been sincere in your life, why should you get a break now?
Get real, kid. What was the real reason for the change? Did someone finally wise up and tell you that your job was in danger? See, you might be very, very good at what you do. Either that or you have a horseshoe up your ass and no one noticed your jerkitude before now. But there are a LOT of people who would happily take your job and do what you're doing AND behave like professionals.
You'd have to be even dumber than I think you are if you think just changing jobs is going to make people trust you. In any industry, there's gossip. People know what you were like. Pretending to grow up now might actually take...eventually.
3. Oy. If I have to listen to this "honesty and trust" shite again after this, I'm going to run away and join a circus or something. What a load of crap that is! Total honesty is something that no one really wants. No one wants to know how many tissues you used when you had your last cold and no one cares about your latest bowel movement, either. I could go on.
Ok to summarize, your girlfriend has used this "honesty and trust" garbage as an excuse to tell you she's not attracted to you. Twice. She was serious both times, but goes on to claim that she "...said she just feels comfortable enough to tell me silly thoughts that come in to her head...".
First, did you know that losing one's internal censor and blurting out everything that comes to mind is a sign that doctors use to diagnose Alzheimer's or dementia? Seriously. When Granny starts spouting off about all sorts of things that normal people just don't talk about, like the size of Gramps' dick, that's when the doctor sends the old bird off for an evaluation.
Second, with that in mind....what are you, thick? You KNOW for a fact that this supposedly great girlfriend of yours deliberately said something that she KNEW would hurt your feelings. You KNEW she was serious about it. Why on earth are you even considering taking this crap for? Got a little cranial/rectal inversion going on?
Why do you keep this bitch around? Do you like being insulted? Don't you get that people who love each other don't go about insulting each other? What she's doing is not related to her feeling "comfortable", it's all about diminishing and belittling you. The sad thing about it is that you seem to be taking it!
There is NEVER an excuse to say nasty things. Especially to someone that might potentially end up being one's life partner. Politeness, as in not telling your spouse that they look like a dyspeptic Shar Pei in the morning when they have pillow-face, is something that everyone deserves, no matter how close you are.
What this chick is doing to you is really abusive, you know that? She's starting out by insulting and belittling you and making excuses for her vile behavior. This is not going to improve. If you take her crap, she'll only get nastier and you'll end up feeling that she might be right.
Run, don't walk away from this rotten human being. Find a nice girl who really likes you and would never even consider being rude to you. Ever.
4. Oh, this is an easy one. It really is. I love this stuff.
You and your husband need to name a guardian for your children should you drive off a cliff and kick the bucket at the same time. That's reasonable. That's what couples with kids should do when they're writing wills and buying life insurance so their children will be supported financially - RIGHT? You did that stuff, RIGHT?
You take it a step to the stupid side, though. YOU want your precious babies to go to your parents, who are in their 60s ad 70s. Your husband says no, they should go to his sister and her husband. You're pissy about that because they live far away and haven't visited you enough times to suit you.
Grow the hell up, sweetie. Have you even ASKED the grandparents if they're willing to raise your kids? Did it even cross your mind that they've done that job already with you lot and they might not want to go there again? Do you think for one second that these people, when they're in their 70s and 80s will even be ABLE to raise your kids?
You're an idiot. It's presumptuous beyond believe that you think it's ok to dump kids on your aging parents and in-laws. These people are retired. They don't want your kids, believe me. All of the grandparents I know freely admit that they're glad they can send the little darlings back home...to their parents...when the visit's over. Raising kids again, when they thought they were done with that is their idea of hell on earth.
I hope your mother boxes your ears when you tell her your plan. You deserve it.
Well, it's been raining just about constantly here for the last six days straight. That sucks. Even the cats are bummed. I even started taking my Vitamin D again, hoping for a mood boost. It works. Seeing the sun would work even better...Sigh. The Boy also brought home his first head cold of the season last week, so I've been snuffling and headachey all week, too. Double sigh.
I'll just keep on watching the forecast and writing the SHADDAP!S. That'll set me right. Oh, and shop for shoes. Shoes are good.
23 September 2011
(Photograph copyright 2011, all rights reserved.)
Meet Charlie. It's not easy to get a picture of him, because he's generally moving at light speed. It's not worth taking a picture of him when he's sleeping because, well, he sleeps weird. I know I shouldn't talk that way about my beloved pet, but it's embarrassing. When he sleeps, he's usually upside down, his eyes are half open and crossed, giving him a zombie-like stare, his tongue sticks out, and he drools, it's kind of disgusting to watch, frankly. Also, he snores. Loud. This is a rare moment of conscious repose for the big guy, so I'm glad I was fast with the camera.
Now Charlie (aka Chuckles, aka Charles, aka Now What?!, aka Oh No You Don't!, aka You Little Fart!) has become a verb in our house. It didn't take long, either. How does a creature become a verb? Easy. This is a cat that does not know the meaning of "look before you leap". He's all about the leaping, the looking is just not there at all. For example, a friend recently asked where our table lamp went. My response? "It got Charlied."
"How about that vase?"
"Weren't we supposed to have cake for dessert?"
"There was a cake. It got Charlied."
We should give him a break, though, because he is only a year and a half old, which my vet assures me is about 9 years old in human terms. He's allowed to rip around playing, falling down the stairs and tripping over his own tail - don't ask how he did that. I saw it happen and I don't even know. He's the equivalent of a kid is what I'm saying. He has time and he doesn't have to be a grownup just yet.
So what the hell is going on with the PEOPLE this week? Find them here: http://www.slate.com/id/2304305 (And I just KNOW that the Sage is going to pop by my e-mail and tell me how to make that a link again).
1. So. You got a phone call from your husband's fuckpuppet letting you know that she...exists and has been screwing your husband for nine months. Just as an aside, did you ask if she was knocked up? Idle curiosity on my part.
You naturally went to your husband and got a spiel that would make any con man blush, it's so transparent.
"Oh baby, baby, YOU'RE the only one for me..... I only screwed her the once and now that bunny boiling bitch just wants revenge because I didn't want to do it again..... Don't you trust me baby? Can't you see she's a lying bitch?...." *barfing noises*
Whatever. Tell him to
Now think, cookie. What kind of dumbass are you? You want to believe him, don't you? Sure, he's charming and nice and he laughs with you and he's good in bed....
Getting a divorce is a pain in the ass. But do you really think this guy is your "soul mate"? Give me a break, and wake the hell up. First, there are no "soul mates". That's just a load of bullshit made up by wedding planners so they can charge you more for the flowers.
Second - Of COURSE he's charming! Duh! How do you think he gets women to sleep with him? What, you think they just take one look at his dickitude and hurl themselves at him, stripping all the way? Is that what YOU did?
Do you sincerely believe that the fuckpuppet who phoned you is the only one he has? Really? I would be willing to bet some serious money (like a whole buck) that she's just the one that had the chutzpah to pick up the phone! For every silly bitch who calls the wife, there are half a dozen more waiting in the wings for their "soul mate" to understand how devoted they are to him. You know, that would be the guy YOU were stupid enough to marry.
How long did you know him before you married him, anyway? A weekend? Two? Just enough time to say to yourself, "Gee what a charming guy, and he's talking to little old ME!"
If you had taken say, six months to get to know the guy, you wouldn't be in this mess, hormone-girl.
Look. *takes a deep breath* This guy is what Dan Savage calls a CPOS. For the uninitiated, that's Cheating Piece Of Shit.
Now go away, kid. You bother me.
2. Ok. This was a two second letter. You have a friend that you've always admired because she's what? Blunt? Says what she thinks with no internal censor? Has the soul of a Dalek?
She invited you and your mother to her wedding, but not your dad because after all, he has cancer and he'll be dead by then. You complained, she called you a drama queen and.....what?
Do you sincerely believe that anything you could say to this...person... (there are no words) could possibly make her understand how horrible she is?
Oh believe me, darling, she KNOWS how nasty she is. She's probably been laughing her ass off at you for years at the way you've been sucked in to tolerating her bullshit. Did you not get the hint when you realized that her favorite hobbies were puppy-kicking, baby-tossing, and peeling live beavers? No? Did you fail to notice that she has...how many friends? You? More? How long do they stick around?
The fascinating thing is that she actually found a man that wants to marry her! I guess it's true that finding someone to marry is easy. That even makes a twisted sort of sense. Charles Manson, John Wayne Gacy, and all of their peers get letters from women wanting to be their "soul mate" (what a load of utter shite that phrase is) and marry them every day. By the pound.
Prudie was right. RSVP "no". Never speak to that psycho again. Re-evaluate your urge to be treated like shit. And fertheluvamike DON'T get married. Not for a long, long time.
3. Kid you gotta grow up. It's true that life ain't fair and it's kind of sad that you're getting clobbered with that now, but you have to be the grownup here. Your parents are sure as hell not acting like adults.
To recap - kid graduates a private college after parents tell him not to go to a state school, they'll pay. He (I'm choosing to think it's a guy) gets a job from Americorps for a year, a tiny stipend, and plans to stay home for that year. It's not that bad a plan. Too bad it's not working
See, the kid's parents now want half his tuition back. To the tune of $80,000.00. Now.
Your parents are broke to the point where they're selling off their assets and they see you as their cash cow for the near future and possibly permanently. Tell them to
First, go for a walk. Think while you're walking. Ready for the smack upside the head that is reality?
Your parents are not acting in your best interests. They are acting ONLY in their best interests. I'd guess that they've always been fuckups with money and it's just hitting them now how stupid they've been. You want evidence? They sell property to pay a debt and they want YOU to go on a vacation with them with the money. That's a sign of sure-fire fuckuppery. Sigh.
I get that you feel sorry for them. I do. What I don't get is that you seem to feel guilty about this whole mess...
You say you get a pathetic stipend. Use it to find a roommate, someone you work with that's in the same boat would would work. Or rent a room in someone's house. It won't kill you not to live in a four-level split for a year. Coping with utter poverty at your age is a good learning experience and also a guaranteed way to teach you not to follow your parents' example, right?
Now, you're basically volunteering for a year...so NETWORK! Get names and numbers. Job hunt. Wait tables on weekends or something. Do whatever it is you need to do to survive. You wouldn't be the first kid to leave the program because you found a decent job.
Your parents will whine. Your parents will bitch and howl. They'll fall down, kick the floor and hold their breath until their faces turn blue. Too bad. They're big now. They'll deal.
4. This is another easy one, but I suspect that I'm going to catch some hell with my answer.
The LW is a young woman who lives in an apartment building. In the same building, there's a young man in his twenties who is mentally disabled (SEE how PC I can be?) and lonely. He hangs around the doorway greeting the LW and wanting to talk to her all the time. She finds this somewhat unnerving.
Got that? So
and let me answer. Thank you.
Prudie says that you should find someone to talk to the mother about programs for this young man, and that would be a noble thing to do. Go for it. He's bored, he'd enjoy that, and he'd be out of your hair.
Now there's one thing that Prudie and all of the other posters aren't thinking about. We are talking here about the mind of an eight-year-old in the body of a grown man. Think about what that means. Eight year old kids do throw the occasional tantrum. They are not always pleasant to be around. Combine that with the size, strength, hormones and sex drive of an adult male, and it can be a recipe for trouble.
The LW does not see this guy as seriously threatening and that's good. Probably she's right. People tend to dismiss the mentally disabled, though. They see Special Olympics posters with smiling, competent Down's Syndrome kids and think that's what all of them are like. They're not. People with Down's are as different from each other as the rest of us are. Never forget that. This kid needs help. Someone has to make sure he gets it.
Gotta go. Charlie wants a hug. He is just so stinking cute! You should hear that purr.
14 July 2011
(Photograph copyright 2011, all rights reserved.)
Meet Nini (pronounced knee-knee). She is almost three years old and has the most stress-free life of anyone I know. In this photo, she is sun-worshipping. Her technique is to lie in the direct sun until you'd swear she's going to catch fire, then she gets up, has a stretch and a drink and heads for a shady spot. Once she's cooled off a bit, she's back in the sun. This will go on for as long as the sun is coming in that doorway and since it faces South, that's pretty much all day.
She knows she's adorable and that humans are suckers who will give her treats and belly rubs whenever she asks. She also knows she's the boss of the house. When asked what she actually DOES and if someone suggests that she should catch some vermin and earn her keep, her answer is, "What? Mice? In MY house? See any? My job is done."
Sigh. Looks like a nice life, doesn't it?
Too bad humans have to go hunting for trouble, isn't it? Wouldn't it be nice if humans could just take a few minutes and lie in the sun on a nice rug? But no. And today's LWs are living proof... find the letters here: http://www.slate.com/id/2299167
1. So, to summarize, in your tender teen years you dated a guy who later went on to become Famous Rock Star Guy and you're still bitter about it because he dumped you and said you weren't cool enough for him. He phrased it badly because he was a kid in the throes of the teenaged stupids, but it could have been a lot worse.
Now you've added a lot of crap about how he knocked you up and you didn't tell him, lost the baby, didn't go to college for awhile, yadda yadda yadda, and you were traumatized, your life is over, he done you wrong, woe is little old you, and so on. Never mind the fact that he had nothing to do with your choice not to go to school, get some counseling if you needed it and move on with your life.
In fact, your entire life seems to be centered around something that you had no control over and that the poor bastard who dumped you didn't do! Tell Messy now. Did you keep one of his old sweatshirts, constantly soaked with your tears? Is his old cell phone number still on your speed dial, seven years later?
NOW, you want petty revenge in the form of cash for pictures of him nekkid that you thought were long since gone.
You silly bitch.
You have a problem all right, but HE has nothing to do with it. I can just see you spending all your time listening to his music, sobbing your eyes out, telling everyone how evil he was to you, how you coulda been his Linda or his Yoko or whatever...
What a load of shit. Get over yourself, sugar.
See, this guy never knew you were pregnant - that's if you really were and didn't insert that bit for the sake of the drama. Even if he did, you're dreaming in Technicolor if you think for one instant that he would still be with you if you had the baby. He may have said he dumped you because of the coolness factor, but face it, this was HIGH SCHOOL. Virtually NO ONE stays with their high school sweetie for eternity.
Your rock star ex knows you better than you think. He knows all about your perpetual attention-seeking drama. He knows you've been wallowing in the "I knew him when" nonsense that you clearly think gives you some sort of sick status. Why do you think he dumped you in the first place, dippy? He fears quite justly that you'll try to screw him over out of spite. He's right, too, isn't he? That's your plan, after all.
He dumped you for a lot of very good reasons and they're all plain to see in this letter. Now he just wants to let the party and the sound rock on without having to deal with some whiny, obsessed, ancient history ex. I can't blame him for that in the least. He's right.
Prudie's right. If you own copyright to those photos, sell them to his agent. I won't tell you to just delete them and make them go away for all time, because that would be the classy thing to do and I know that's utterly alien to you.
2. Well, aren't you a piece of work? To summarize again... for, what 15 years(?), your wife has taken a vacation to Florida alone. She did this long before you knew her and she let you know up front that she has no intention of stopping that tradition.
So what the hell is your problem? You want to be invited? Why? She told you repeatedly that this is her time to be alone and decompress, this is not news to you. She did it before she knew you, while she was dating you, and has continued. This is nothing new.
What an asshole! Why would you assume that she's screwing around at this late date? Are you projecting? Would YOU like to screw around? Do you demand to know who was at the grocery store when she was there? Do you accuse her of screwing the postman, the UPS guy and the kid that mows the lawn? Are you that obsessive?
Get over yourself, jerk. This woman never once lied to you. She told you what she was doing, where she was going, and that this is a tradition that she intends to keep. Everything has been perfectly transparent all along. You have no reason to suspect her of doing anything untoward, you're just being nosy. I disagree with Prudie. She doesn't "owe" you an "explanation" for what she does. You already know.
See, even married people need time alone. Getting married, for normal people, means that two people agree to share their lives. This does NOT mean that they're obliged never to be out of body contact until they die, you moron. You and your wife are married, but you are also individuals. If she needs this trip once a year, then she should go. It's not like she never goes anywhere with you. You admit that you take vacations together all the time.
One week out of 52 is a small price to pay for marital harmony. But you aren't interested in marital harmony. No, your only interest is to brand her as yours and never let her out of your sight.
Go ahead. Kick and scream and whine about not being invited. Tell her your suspicions. Act like a spoiled toddler. Better yet, go into creepy stalker mode and follow her when she leaves. Show her what a jealous, obnoxious child she married. THAT will show her!
Be prepared, though. If you keep up acting like you are now, I predict that within a year you won't have to worry about her going somewhere without you. You'll either be too occupied with wondering if Boobsie911 is ever going to "like" you on that dating service or building a cage in the basement for the next woman you get on the hook.
3. Wow. So the Casey Anthony verdict pissed you off a little, eh? I never would have guessed. You even go so far as to say, "I wish someone would throw acid in her face and gouge out her eyes."
I don't even know where to start with this. Ok.
First, you flaming moron, you must have a pretty easy life if you have so much time to obsess over a case that is OVER. Done. Finished. In fact, the woman was found not guilty of murder, but guilty of lying to the police. You don't have all of the facts. You don't know exactly what went on. You never will know these things. No one will. That's the way it goes sometimes. Deal.
It's the threat you made that makes me wonder, though. Why are you obsessing so much over this particular case? As public as this trial was, the charges are nothing new. Parents kill their kids every day. I have no doubt that thousands of kids go missing every year and there are many, many little corpses littering obscure wilderness areas.
In fact, the detail involved in your fantasy suggests that you are a far sicker puppy than Ms. Anthony is. You sound like you're on the brink of a psychotic break. Do you work? Have you ever made these types of threats to anyone else? Have you ever been involuntarily committed to a mental institution? Because you should be.
Prudie suggests that you volunteer somewhere. I suggest that you volunteer to check yourself into a happy place with trees and flowers and chirping birds, and basket weavers who sit and smile and twiddle their thumbs and toes.... before they come to take you away.
4. Talk about borrowing trouble! So your sister sends her kid's photo to cute baby sites, hoping to win prizes. It pisses you off.
First, you can quit pretending that you're somehow trying to protect this kid from some sort of vague exploitation. If you weren't a complete idiot, you'd realize that this kid is a BABY. Photos of gurgling babies are cute and unlikely to come back and "haunt" them. Except that people might one day tell him what a cute baby he was.
Your sister enters these contests because of the potential for swag. These contests are usually held by companies that give away things like diapers, clothing, strollers, etc. as prizes for the number of votes the kid gets. Be proud of her for her sense of thrift.
As for your REAL problem, the constant e-mails, so the heck what? Delete them. Duh.
Then get over yourself. You don't get to dictate what your sister does with pictures of her little drooler. If that baby's parents don't have a problem with it, that's just the way it is. As Ann Landers would say, it's a "nunuvyerbizness" situation.
Gee whiz, are people really so bored with their lives that they have nothing better to do than stick their noses into other peoples business? Are their lives so easy that they have the time and energy to obsess over something that should have been forgotten years ago?
Sigh. Oh well. I'm off to wallow in the sun. So there. Nini has the right idea - smart kitty.
24 March 2011
(Photographs copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)
The photos above are from our last trip to Japan in November of last year. They're all random except for the last one. For those that don't recognize it, there is a board like this in front of almost every temple in the country. For a fee, anyone can buy a small wooden plaque from the monks, who will inscribe a wish or a prayer on them before they're tied to the board with the rest.
The people I know that are from Japan are frantic with worry. They can't stop watching the news. It's a horrible, helpless feeling to be in a safe place when the people they care about are suffering. There are food lines in Tokyo as well as the rest of the country. Some schools are still closed. Many people are unable to get back to work. Some workplaces are never going to reopen. Everything is in the air and nobody knows what's going to happen next. Rolling blackouts are now the norm as power plants are being repaired or shut down.
Consider this to be my little plaque. Best wishes and to the Japan and all of its wonderful people. To my friends, I'm thinking of you.
And now, to the letters! Find them here .
1. See? Here's the perfect storm of stupid in one letter!
The writer is a man in his 60s, recently diagnosed with a cancer that will ultimately be fatal. He is trying to finagle a way to leave money to his 40-something fuckpuppet after his death. He's been seeing the fuckpuppet for years under the nose of his wife who he can only describe as a "good earner". Nice, right?
So the upshot is that he wants his WIFE, who he's been cheating on for over a decade, to give him his cancer drugs, clean up his vomit, and wipe his ass and THEN find out he'd been fucking around on her after he dies.
At least, that's my interpretation of the mess......... he needs to
...and pay attention, right kids?
Your wife is GOING to find out about the fuckpuppet, asshole. It may be after you're dead, but there is no way you can hide the amount of money you're giving to chickie-baby without your wife finding out. No matter how sneaky you try to be, and I know you're an expert, this bequest is not going to stay a secret.
And then you know what's going to happen. If you don't, I'll make that prediction for you. Your wife will loathe the very thought of you. She will feel cheated and used - and she'd be right about that. Your children will hate you with a passion reserved only for the worst mass-murderers in the history of the planet. If there's a family Bible, your name will be crossed out with a Magic Marker. Your grandchildren will never know your name. Your dog will pee on your ashes (provided they haven't been flushed down the loo already).
But you don't care about any of that, right? You knew what you were doing from the moment you met Miss I-Like-Fucking-Married-Men. You KNEW what kind of hurt you were going to cause. You KNEW that you were doing something hideously wrong, that you were being unfair to your wife and children. You KNEW that the honorable thing to do would be to ask your wife for a divorce so that she would have a chance to find someone who loved her and not her earning power.
You claim that you have real feelings for the fuckpuppet. YOU might. Why don't you test her? Tell her that you're going to leave your wife. If she doesn't head for the hills then, ask her if she'll marry you. If she's STILL planning to stick around (doubtful) tell her about the cancer. I'm betting that she drops you like a hot rock.
See, she's fucking a married man because she knows that you'll go back home to your wife, leaving her to have a nice, serene life. It's been easy for her - getting laid, getting gifties, having her freedom. You didn't really think you were the only one in her life, did you? After all, you're no spring chicken, and a girl has to take care of herself before she loses her looks, right? So she's probably already got someone else on the string by now... you know, someone not in the Viagra set, someone with more earning potential, someone who...still thinks he can kid himself his wife won't find out.
You could go all sensitive '70s guy and tell your wife everything, throwing yourself on her mercy and hoping that she'll forgive you... Yeah. Right. No you won't. You live and breathe lies, don't you? You're nothing more than a terrified little boy now, aren't you?
Everything now hinges on your fear. You know that the fuckpuppet won't take care of you. You also know that your wife will divorce you if she finds out, taking half of the marital property - which she's bloody well earned, by the way - and leave you on your own to die with only your checkbook to keep you company. So you'll die before you tell her.
When your wife and family find out about this bequest, my advice to them would be to contest your will. They'll inevitably win. Judges don't tend to look at fuckpuppets kindly, especially if they have the gall to show up in court. If life is fair, your fuckpuppet not only won't get YOUR money, she'll have to spend HERS. On legal fees.
Karma's a bitch. Shoulda thought of that before, right?
2. Ooh, the angst! How can people be so goddamned dumb and still be alive? How do they make it to adulthood without getting killed in traffic or eaten by a bear? I would really like to know these things.
Here we have a guy (I'm assuming "guy", so don't bother me with gender), who feels sooooooooooooo bad about the earthquake and tsunami in Japan that he wants to troop around his favorite sushi place, apologizing to total strangers.
Listen moron, Prudie was right.
Do you run around apologizing to random lizards about the fate of the dinosaurs? Do you seek out people whose loved ones have been dead for decades to give them your condolences? Would you be surprised if someone laughed in your face or socked you in the jaw when you did that?
Idiot. No one gives a rat's behind about your feelings here. YOU don't count in the face of the many tragedies happening in Japan right now. You don't get to tell random strangers what you think, because.....random strangers will probably call the cops and you'll find yourself in a padded cell...
Give money to charity. If there's a relief fund, contribute. Other than that,
SHADDAP! (for the third time already)
3. Ah yes... more stupid.
This guy has heard a rumor that a couple that he and his wife sorta know are starving their kids, and his "proof" is that both of this couple are skinny and the kids stuff themselves at every opportunity. Now that he's heard this, he's convinced himself that he can see behavioral issues with the kids that makes him think that they're starving to death and will keel over any minute now.
His solution? Dump them and never see them again.
Your wife is absolutely right. These are your friends, and if you're REALLY concerned, why would you cut them off? What if the rumor you heard was true and the kids ARE suffering? Is that ok with you as long all you don't have to actually SEE it? You'd seriously go with that solution?
Wouldn't it make more sense if you saw them occasionally and paid attention to the kids when you did? Ya think?
Prudie was right. Skinny adults tend to have skinny kids. If those kids are anything like I was as a little spud, their mother is probably stuffing them like little geese while they grow like weeds. There was a time when I could scarf down three hamburgers at a sitting and have two pieces of cake for dessert, but you'd never know it to look at me, scrawny thing that I was. How do you know that's not what's happening here?
You don't. You don't know anything. All you see is a couple of hungry kids at meal times and you have no clue what's really going on in that house. Now if you see evidence that really concerns you - if you can see bones on the kids, for example, or if they're unresponsive and don't want to play, THEN you can say something. THEN you can write to the doctor.
In the meantime, all you have is dubious opinion from a rumor-mongering "friend" who's probably still stinging because when she accused this woman of starving her kids, she was told to go to hell and mind her own bloody business.
4. Oh dear. Is being a moron genetic? Here I have my doubts.
A daughter (because no man would do this) has decided that throwing a surprise anniversary party for her parents is somehow a good idea. But..... I know you're all aquiver.... she inadvertently invited a friend of her mother's who is a FORMER friend. Oh the horror! Whatever shall she do?
Cancel the party. Now. Send a note of apology to those that have RSVPed and plan a real party instead. Seriously, you silly ass. Cancel it. Never, ever consider doing this again. Never. If you're tempted, arrange to have someone beat you about the head with a banana peel.
Surprise parties are ALWAYS a bad idea. ALWAYS. Nobody likes them. No, no argument.
Nobody enjoys these things. They always end in tears. Either the surprisee is bitterly resentful or the surpriser gets smacked around and dumped forever from the guest list.
Weirdly, Cary Tennis had a surprise party question this week. It was a different sitch - husband who was in the process of dumping his wife was going to throw a surprise party for her anyway (creep). He, along with a couple of other columnists he cited - and I'm not going to look it up, because you can do this yourself - agrees that all surprise parties are universally a stupid idea and not to be attempted by anyone with half a brain.
Why? Again, I won't quote, I'll summarize. Look it up on Salon if you want to. He feels that these events are manipulative and controlling. They force someone to grit their teeth and smile through an event that they hate and don't want. I agree.
Surprise parties are things that only seem like a good idea to stupid people who assume that everyone else is as stupid as they are. Either that, or they're thrown by malicious people who get a kick out of watching people they're supposed to respect and care about squirm uncomfortably for an audience.
So don't go there. Just. Don't.