Far and Away

Like My Marriage

2010-02-22T07:40:00.000-08:00

I would describe my marriage as a pairing of fine wine and cheese. Our relationship has become more valuable and refined with age, but also a lot smellier.

Acceptance

2009-11-22T06:25:00.000-08:00

I think there is a quote somewhere that states there is no such thing as letting go only acceptance. And in order to grow you need to constantly change...if you are not changing, you are not growing.

Your closest relationships in life are often the most painful and the most joyous. They show you yourself in ways you've never seen. No one is perfect, but what would life be with out people.

When I was younger it seemed like all the grown-ups in my life kept trying to drill in the idea that being an adult is difficult. Constantly, using the expression, "In the real world..." I had no idea what they meant and honestly, I am not sure they did either.

Yes, I see that having a family and a home is tireless work, but the real job of being an adult is maintaining and fostering relationships with people. There is so much fear in not knowing what will become of the people you love or have loved.

I think now, being an adult means we have to learn to accept ourselves and our inadequacies and those of other people...otherwise we are not growing.

Am I an Asshole?

2009-10-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

This shit has been such a rollercoaster of emotion. I just can't give a fuck anymore. No one that I know really understands what it's like to have a family member as fucked up as mine. I know it's a goddamn pitty party (Alex) but guess what you went to fucking bed. Not only that, but you've had enough of hearing about how my brother shits on me. If my brother is really mentally ill, than am I a fucking asshole for signing him off?
How can I continue on?
My mother is now going to meetings for parents of mentally ill. Am I an asshole?

The Real Deal?

2009-09-07T20:28:00.000-07:00

My husband and I were watching TV and some character on some stupid reality show exclaimed that a certain person was really real... which my husband then asked, what does that mean?

I had no answer.

Ma and Pa

2009-06-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

I was born in the D.C. area and when I was 8 months old we moved overseas. My mother was a french major in college and subsequently a french teacher. Through IBM, my father had the opportunity to work in Paris. Apparently, my sentences were always mixed with french and English. My best friend and next door neighbor was Scottish, so I also learned a few of her colloquialisms.

Inevidebly my very first memories are from living in Paris. The one memory that always stands out, was the weekend my father was home cocking the window panes in my bedroom. For some reason, I found it endlessly fascinating. So fascinating in fact, that when my mother asked if I wanted to go to the market with her I said no. I attempted to help my father by picking up one of his tools, to which he growled, "don't touch that." Oh well, I decided since my father did not want my help I would go with my mother to the market. Unfortunately she had already left. Since I had walked with my mother to the market hundreds of times, I figured I would catch up with her.

Unlike American grocery stores where you do your shopping all in one, in Paris, you have to go to the butcher shop, the bakery and then there is your open air market where you can purchase all your fresh produce. In order for my four year old self to get to this market, I had to walk underground through the Parisian Metro system.

Once I arrived at the market my mother was no where in sight, apparently, she had stopped at the bakery beforehand and I had passed her. Dozens of french women surrounded me and asked me my name, but I knew better then to talk to strangers. Eventually, my mother spotted me and immediately took me home.

This is when I received my first spanking by my father's belt. (and I think now, why didn't he get spanked for not paying closer attention to where his child was?) Afterwards, my mother made me a nutella sandwich with sprinkles, I suppose because she felt guilty about my spanking, or maybe she wanted to appear as the nicer parent. Whichever, it didn't work.

Big Brother

2009-05-27T13:52:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, I thought my big brother was the smartest, coolest most talented person I knew. I was completely under his spell. He knew best, so I believed everything he said. Even when he told me I wasn't very smart, or that I was obese.

His spell weaned as we got older and I saw how emotionally retarded he was. How difficult it was for him just to brush his teeth, let alone hold down a job or a relationship.

He eventually got wise and married a girl that would be his mother for years. She enabled him to be the perpetual teenager that he is. But that ship is sinking. The wife wants out. And I don't blame her. I feel guilty for not being there for my brother and siding with his wife. He thinks I don't know anything about the situation. That he is being wronged.

I know that he is wrong. So, I will let go of this guilt and grieve instead, for the big brother I never really had.

Baby Jesus

2009-05-09T14:45:00.000-07:00

Hanging out with my niece the other day, I discovered that she names all her dolls, "Baby Jesus." This is incredibly, ironic considering the first time I met her mother, she told me she was an atheist. Regardless, it reminds me of a story that I have told before but never written about.

In my early twenties, I lived in Boston for a year. During this time I was pretty impressionable, and miserable to boot. One evening, I was so unhappy about who knows what, that I said out loud, "if there is a God show me a sign."

The next morning, on my way to my waitress job downtown, I had an encounter with a homeless man. I was headed out of the T station, when I noticed an elderly, Native American man walking towards me. His back was bent over so severely, that he needed a cane to walk. Right as he was about to pass me, he said, "Hi Suzy." I was in disbelief, I kept walking but then turned around to see that the man had stopped in his tracks and was smiling at me. I walked further, and turned to look at him again and he was waving. Right as I was about to turn the corner of the building and he would no longer be in my sight, I looked one last time, and he was blowing me a kiss.

Right then and there, I remembered the night before when I had asked God for a sign. I felt an electric current pulse from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. I wanted to fall over and get on my knees immediately. However, there was work to be done, and I was late.

When I walked into work, the other servers were setting up their stations. Most of my fellow employees were older and wiser, and obviously just waiting tables temporarily until their book was finished or their record deal came through. It was definitely an eccentric group, one that I found to be enlightened. Don't ask me why, I can't remember. So, while rolling napkins for the downtown business crowd, I told a select few of my holy encounter. Everyone seemed slightly indifferent to my story. I wanted people to get on their hands and knees, God had spoken to me. But, my fellow waiters and waitresses were not sharing my enthusiasm.

After work, I was desperate to get home and call my amazingly, spiritual mother and share the unbelievable news with her. She also was hesitant, but nice nonetheless.

It was husband, (my boyfriend at the time) that really put a pin in my balloon. I told him the story in it's entirety, even my fear as to why God came to me, in such a twisted physical form. He listened quietly and when he was sure that I was done, he asked, "How do you know, he didn't say, 'Hi Sweetie'?".

The Terrible 35's

2009-05-03T13:47:00.000-07:00

Apparently 35 is the new terrible 2's. I'm not saying I don't enjoy my age. I feel however, like I am in toddlerdom when it comes to adulthood. Granted I have been an adult legally for 17 years. But, the human brain doesn't finish physically developing until the age of 25, so really that's 10 years of adulthood. I think what I'm trying to say here is, that I haven't been an adult long enough to not fall back into adolescent behavior. It's a strange age, I could very possibly be middle aged. Yet, I've still been a child longer than I have been an adult. But, lately it's been feeling like my young number is up and it's been causing quite the tantrums and acting out.

No worries though, I have read all the best child rearing books I can get my spindly hands on.

Pet Peeves

2009-04-18T14:59:00.000-07:00

The Wikipedia definition says a pet peeve is a minor annoyance that an individual identifies as particularly annoying to them, to a greater degree than others may find it. Examples may be; poor table manners, sloppy kitchen hygiene, grammatical errors in written passages, inconsiderate driving or lazy co-workers.
I've always hated the phrase, "I'm all about (fill in the blank)". I'm not sure exactly when this phrase came about, but it's definitely from my life time. I think it started with the MTV era/ reality programs. Where regular people were declaring themselves special, just because they were stupid enough to put themselves on national television. Maybe I didn't like the phrase at first because, there simply was not anything that I could declare that ,"I was all about". However, these days I pretty much know what I'm all about, and I still find it annoying.

Ah Ga Ga

2009-04-04T05:48:00.000-07:00

I have to pack for our trip today. I don't want to. I have no motivation, because I drank myself into a stupor last night. I passed out before Super Nanny was over. My husband tried to rouse me for some sexy time, but the Tylenol pm had advanced my body past the point of anything other than sleep. He then said, "come on you're wearing those sexy, satin panties for me, because you know you want it." Ha, Ha, Ha, these panties are blue, ripped, polyester from Victoria's Secret circa 1993.

Grandma

2009-04-01T15:38:00.000-07:00

My grandma died in April of 1997. The last conversation we had was on the telephone. She ended our conversation by saying (in her usual southern twang), "Suzy, you might be getting older, but you sure as hell ain't growing up."
Her death was probably the most pivotal moment in my adult life. Losing her, made me grow up. I think of her often, almost everyday and it has been almost 12 years since she died. Her life motivates me to make a better life for my children. I am extremely grateful for knowing her. I wish and hope that she can see me now, all grown up.

Summer of 1992

2009-03-30T12:42:00.000-07:00

I had just graduated high school, and was working at the local grocery store. I was a check-out girl. That summer the owner's nephew was home from college. He was working at the store to make some extra bucks. I'd seen him around at parties and concerts. I didn't really know him, or for that matter take much notice. However, earlier that summer he had gone on a month long excursion out west. When he came back from that trip, I took a double take. I can remember exactly what he looked like the day I first payed attention to him. He had on cutoff corduroy pants with red paint splashed on them. He was wearing his former boarding school T-shirt. He had a tan that made him seem to radiate relaxation. His hair had been lightened by the sun. The tan made his blue eyes sparkle and when he smiled at me, he looked like a cat that had just swallowed a bird.

Air and Space Museum

2009-03-28T13:22:00.000-07:00

In just a few short weeks, we will be traveling to Virginia to visit with Family. While we are there, my husband would really like to take our son to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. I told my Mother this and she said, "Oh God, not the infamous Air and Space Museum."

Which brings me back to the summer of 1981. Our family was on the East Coast visiting Grandparents. While in Virginia, my parents thought it would be educational to take me and my brother to the Capitol of our great Nation. On the agenda for D.C., was to stop at the Air and Space Museum. It was an amazing sight, space shuttles and satellites galore. While waiting in line to enter a life size replica of a space station, some children cut in front of us to join their Mother. My Mother (who has a tendency to become miffed easily) then turns to me and my brother and loudly states, "That woman is setting a bad example for her children, letting them cut in line like that." At that moment, I acted like I did not know my mother. I was only listening to this crazy lady to try and pacify her. I was just trying to help. Finally, we walk through the replica (which I hardly payed any attention to because I was so mortified). Upon exiting the space station, there waiting for us, is the Mother with her children that like to cut in line. She holds up her camera and points to my Mother, and says, "Hey kids, watch me take a picture of the rudest person ever." To which my Mother boldly gives this lady the finger. It felt like I was watching the whole thing in slow motion, my cheeks burned red hot. As we pass them, I can hear the woman say to her kids, "that woman is setting a very bad example for her children."

Chaos Theory

2009-03-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

I would like to live my life with out hurting anyone. However, life runs its' own course. Recent situations, remind me of the Chaos Theory. The theory, that the flapping of a single butterfly's wing could produce enough of a change in the atmosphere, that over a period of time, a tornado that would have devastated the Indonesian coast doesn't happen. Or maybe one that wasn't going to happen, does.

What I'm trying to say is, that right and wrong to me, sometimes seem like a misnomer. When everything in life feels so fleeting, it just doesn't make sense for me to put my foot down. Unless of course, it's life or death.

I Like This

2009-03-25T15:10:00.001-07:00

In honor of some of my fabulous friends, who always keep me in the know. I would like to share a site with you that I like. gbehh.com
This place has the best ecards on the whole, world wide web.

This be the Verse

2009-03-19T12:48:00.000-07:00

They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin

Nerves

2009-03-15T15:37:00.001-07:00

I'm usually nervous at social events, but add excitement and alcohol and you've got grounds for a black out. Actually, they're not really black outs, more like foggy diarrhea's. It takes an entire day to recover from the foggy diarrhea's. I've been told that I was born shy, yet sometimes I have the ability to turn on the charm. My mother said she married my father because he was so outgoing. Once they had been married for a year, she realized he was a hermit. That he could turn the charm on and off easily. My dad and I both have a dirty sense of humor. Every time I see him, he's asking for more funny phrases. He loves sewer pickles and bullets in the chamber. Like I said I get nervous in social situations. I think I should always remember that I don't need alcohol, I just need to turn on the charm...like my father.

Out of it

2009-03-12T06:49:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling so, so out of it. Of it, of what? Some mornings I can barely motivate to go to the bathroom. What is that? This is not a rhetorical question, but, I suppose I won't get an answer since no one reads this blog.

So, here lies the real question. Do I share the blog w/ my fellow blogging friends? Do I want to open myself up to a world of hurt? One friend told me she found her blog therapeutic. I'm already in therapy. Yet still, I can't seem to stay away from the blogging. I started one last year and then got nervous about it, and had it deleted. I don't know what I'm waiting for. I'm sick of being out of it. I think it's time to get in it.

Fevers

2009-03-05T06:59:00.001-08:00

My two children have both been sick for a week w/ fevers and strep and other viruses on top of that. My one year old has had an ongoing ear infection for about 5 months now. If I could give the winter of 09' a title it would be, "The Never Ending Cold"... and I'm not talking about the weather. There is one fever that I have become quite accustomed to, it's called cabin fever bitch! Yes, I added the bitch. I'm losing patience w/ my children, my husband and my dog. At least the dog can run around in the snow killing innocent moles to release his pent up aggressions. I watched through the window as he continuously tossed this black mole around in the snow. It was reminiscent of a killer whale attacking a baby seal. It was sickening.

I honestly don't mind the winter. I love that this winter we have had real snow storms. It is the illnesses that are born in winter that I can not take. I need to do stuff, and get out of the freaking house. I suppose things could be worse, at least I don't have a fever.

Cycles

2009-02-26T10:27:00.000-08:00

I've heard it said that peoples moods run in cycles. Some peoples cycles are farther apart and others are closer together. Well, it's been six days since I've felt down. So, maybe I'm on the six day emotional cycle. Meaning I'm a moody bitch. I can't put my finger on exactly what it is that is making me feel down.

Party!

2009-02-21T13:35:00.000-08:00

This evening my husband and I have a gala to attend. This is not something we would normally be invited to. But, due to my husband's charitable work, he's being honored. So, we have to go. I'm excited for him, and I'm excited to go. I think it will be good for us, since we both have a tendency to feel awkward in social situations. I only wish my husband was excited too.

Ughhhh!

2009-02-20T07:09:00.001-08:00

I'm fucking down. Maybe it was those four beers I chugged last night, or maybe it's because some of the people in my life are bringing me down. How do you avoid loved ones? Family is such a fucking conundrum. They make your life and then they make it a living hell. I was not raised to be loyal, so I married the most loyal man I could find. None of it was conscious, it's all in hindsight that I see why I married who I married. I'm always turning to him for the answers. The "right" thing to do. Lately, it seems like that cup has run dry, and that I have to find the answers myself. It is very difficult to do the right thing, when the other people involved are unable to do the same. Ughhhh.... I'm going to just suck it up and then let it go.