Monday, June 25, 2012

The Kitchen Blues

Maybe this should be cross posted on my cooking blog but I just needed a few minutes to vent over my domesticity.  Lately I am growing really weary of incredibly complex meals that involve a moderate amount of prep.  I am just tired of cooking regularly I believe.  I have realized I will never be one of those homegrown, "make everything from scratch" people.  I feel like I can spend time doing other things I enjoy more than cooking.  The problem is cooking has become a chore so I can't quite find the joy in it anymore.  Hopefully this is only temporary.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Rough Seas

Some of the underlying stress gnawing at the back of my mind had been my Dad’s unemployment.  To make a long story short in regards to that, do not work for the federal government and department of defense as a civilian.  As an animal caretaker, you will be worked to the bone because it is consistently short staffed and the army simply can’t tell scientists “NO” when they want to run more studies that involve even more animals for testing.  To add more insult to injury, he was told his contract maybe terminated early due to being a “medical liability”.  Now my Dad is no spring chicken but he isn’t feeble either.  Last year happened to be a very bad year for him health-wise.  He got slammed with a kidney infection and had heart issues that took time for the cardiologist to diagnose.  Once that had all been handled, he felt better but their doctors still restricted him.  While he had been out for the kidney infection, they had given all of his work to the newly hired caretakers and some other co-workers.  They did not give him his normal work back because “everybody liked where they were.“   They literally just stuffed him wherever, whenever because they now didn’t have anything for him to do.  Getting near the end, it became more and more apparent that they were trying to get rid of him. Maybe that was just my Dad’s experience at the local army base but who knows?

So for months, they barely survived on my mother’s income and had no insurance.  We had to help them out quite a bit financially but we were happy to help.  My Mom on the other hand did not make this situation any better by acting like a petulant child the majority of the time because there was no money to spend on frivolous things or tons of junk food.  All she could do was berate my father even though he looked for jobs everyday and applied wherever he could.  He didn’t qualify for unemployment either.  Mom complained endlessly that he did “nothing” when he done EVERYTHING around the house and then some!  For 31 years, my Dad carried the burden of bringing home the most income and being in charge of the budget, making sure everything was paid.  But he bore her verbal abuse.  My brother and I on the other hand, just wanted my mother to go away.  Finally last month he got a better job.  It’s less pay but it is still more income a month.  So now my Mom acts all nice as pie which disgusts me. 

I know someone reading this is probably going “But she is your mother.”  Yeah, what of it? My Mom suffers from depression and likes to not take her medicine so she can unleash her cruelty on those closest to her.  Plus, we are very different people.  If she wasn’t my Mom, I’m not sure I’d know her at all.  She has been selfish, mean, and thoughtless in a lot of her actions over the years.  As a child and teenager, I was scared of her.  For example, I’d hide in my bathroom downstairs when her footsteps would be heard coming down the basement stairs because I never knew what snide remark she was going to hurl my way.  I was sixteen years old and HIDING in the bathroom.  She’s simply not the reliable or stable parent.  I didn’t trust her and part of me today still doesn’t trust her!  It’s disturbing how she turns on this sweet motherly façade to co-workers and some of her relatives.  It wasn’t all bad though, growing up with my Mom.  There were some good moments and things are better today since I am an adult who no longer lives under the same roof as her.  I’d say my relationship with her now is more normal but there’s no mother-daughter bond that cheesy hallmark cards are written about.  And she knows that.  Mom knows I have a stronger bond with my Dad, we’re two peas in a pod.  We’re so similar.  In “Pride and Prejudice” parlance, we are Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Bennett.

But I have utterly digressed.  My folks are getting back on track again and will start making payments for the money we have loaned them.  That constant worry over their welfare is no more.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Beacon In The Fog

I am very long overdue for some blog posts.  To be honest, it has been a combination of laziness and insecurity.  I suppose this may sound silly but I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write.  My life is not so glamorous that I have something profoundly fascinating to post about regularly.  I need to get over that notion though.  People write all the time about their lives and they are not all captivating or unusual.  It felt like I had lost my voice. I am more comfortable with the written word than I am of the spoken word in regards to how I function.  My husband seems to think I am very natural and ease quickly into situations where I must talk to/introduce myself to new people.  The truth is that crap terrifies me and it is my bizarre coping mechanism to become engaging so I don’t feel like a silent, anti-social oaf.  Conversation in the flesh is such a dance of appearance, manners, and calculated replies in the timed moments you are given.  But in writing, I can take the necessary time to ponder, retract, and polish my jumbled thoughts from turning into word vomit.  But maybe this is just in my head.  What I see as a stream of word bile streaming from my mouth is in actuality, perfectly fine.  Insecurity has a way of making you feel a little crazy, you know?

I’ve actually never been better despite the hiatus from the blogosphere.  Sure, there are still those bleak days that sneak up on me when bumps in the road appear.  But I don’t sink into the banal muck for as long as I used to and I’m able to cope better.  I don’t really know when that happened either.  There was a break in the clouds and my gray earth sprung to life.  It feels like fingers digging their way through ash until lush verdant vines burst forth to ease me from the oubliette.  I’m far from perfect but the balance is there.  So maybe my voluntary exile was necessary till I could route this faulty wiring in my head into a more functional form.

I’ve never been happier.  See you soon, there’s a lot to catch up on since we last spoke.

Rainbow Brite [Complete]





I finished her ages ago and never got around to posting it here.  I don't care if these cartoons were just corporate ploys to sell toys.  I loved Rainbow Brite with every fiber of my being as a little girl.