Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Deep Thoughts on Wine Wednesday

It's the last Wine Wednesday before the minions go back to school, and the first Wine Wednesday in which I haven't been crazy busy in a while.  In the past few weeks, we've gone to the beach, I've driven to Tennessee (where I was present at the birth of my VERY FIRST NIECE and got to go rafting on the Ocoee with my Michael, all within a 24 hour window) and back, gotten back-to-school shopping out of the way, and made all the reservations/bought all the tickets (plane, train) for our anniversary trip to Italy in October.  Time for a breather.  And a list.


1.  Everyone related to me should really give me the naming rights to their offspring (this includes kids, dogs, the random turtle or ostrich-- you know, whatever butters your muffin).  I am the THINK-UPPER OF AWESOME NAMES.  In fact, that should really be my official title.  Instead of "Mom" or "Wife" or "Psycho," I should be called "MADAME THINK-UPPER OF AWESOME NAMES."  For example, I have a new niece.  From the beginning, it has been known that said niece's name would be "Mia."  However, the middle name was in question for months, and continued to be in question until two days after her birth.  My brother decided on "Mia Claire," which is a lovely name.  Sadly, "Mia Claire" is not nearly as lovely as my top two choices, "Mia Saurus" and "Mia Potamus."  NOT NEARLY AS LOVELY.

2.  I meet a lot of people whom I DO NOT LIKE.  Oftentimes, there is no reason for me to not like them (well, no reason that you people are going to find rational, anyway), I just get feelings about people and some of those feelings are FUCKING BAD and therefore I DO NOT LIKE SOME PEOPLE.  These people I choose to ignore at all times, even if they, say, live next door to me.  And you know what REALLY irks me?  When other people I DO NOT LIKE make friends with the first people I DO NOT LIKE, and then it's like a fucking army of UNLIKEABLES.  It's not that I care that these people have banded together-- I mean, frankly, if you suck that badly you really do need the support of some other people who suck, but DO YOU HAVE TO WALK AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD ALL THE TIME TOGETHER?  REALLY?  Fucking Unlikeables.

3.  For some people, Facebook has become solely a VEHICLE FOR WHINING and it's making me crazy.  Like, STAB MY OWN BRAIN OUT WITH A CHOPSTICK crazy.  A couple of years ago, after a bad friend break-up, I decided to make my life a little simpler and delete all the redneck assholes whose friend requests I had felt obligated to accept on Facebook because I did, indeed, KNOW them (mostly from high school) even if they weren't actually my "friends."  (In reality, I have approximately five friends.  Wait, nope.  Make that four.  I just counted.)  As I suspected, once they were deleted I did not miss them and everything was fine.  Which only taught me that, at this point, what I need to do, if I really care about the virtue of my FB account, is delete pretty much everyone else.  I mean, for now the only real point of it is that I can post photos of the kids on FB and my family (and my Mom's extended family, whom I do not claim) can see them.  It keeps my Mom off my back.  But in return, every time I log in to FB, I have to face the statuses of two different groups of people:  The Boring People (whose FB statuses are always something super exciting like, "Went to work!" or "TGIF!") and The Whiners (where every status post is a HUGE DRAMA, overflowing with how many terrible things have happened to them today, seemingly posted so that all of their hundreds of friends can tell them how wonderful and awesome and fabulous they are in an endless stream of status comments.)  GET OVER YOUR FUCKING SELVES.  These people-- these FB FRIENDS who rush to console you when you're worried that you're too fat or not a good enough housekeeper or feel overwhelmed by your kids?  THEY GIVE ZERO FUCKS ABOUT YOU.  That is why they are FB friends and not REAL FRIENDS.  JESUS.  Now, I understand that occasionally FB friends and real friends overlap so that some people are both and you DO have them in your lives and you DO have a place in their hearts and that FB is a great way to stay in touch when people who ARE good friends move away, but most of the time?  THAT'S NOT THE FUCKING CASE, SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ON FB AND GET SOME REAL FRIENDS.

*We have now gone from Wine Wednesday to Vodka Wednesday.  Just so we're all on the same page.  Feel free to attend to your own cocktail needs before resuming your reading.

4.  Officers of the law DO NOT RESPOND WELL to one quoting the lyrics of "99 Problems" to them when they pull one over for, say, doing 85 in a 60 zone.  In fact, if one says, "Do I look like a mind reader, sir, I don't know," when asked if one knows why one is being pulled over, it actually goes over OKAY.  However, if one follows that up with, "Nah, I ain't passed the Bar but I know a little bit, enough that you won't illegally search my shit," it DOES NOT GO OVER WELL.  (I hope you're writing this down if you are not a Jay-Z fan, and yes, I realize that far too often Jay-Z lyrics come into play in my blogs.  Get over it.)  Please use this information as needed.

5.  Because I have to have an odd number (despite the OCD meds that are, actually, working pretty well and currently coursing through my pretty veins) I will tell you a little story.  On Saturday night, I was in Tennessee, tired and sunburned from the Ocoee, when I started getting texts from my brother that the birth of Mia was imminent.  Z had taken his miserable, laboring wife to the hospital once already that evening, and the nurses had checked her and sent her home with directions to "rest."  LIKE SHE COULD REST WITH A PERSON TRYING TO BURST OUT OF HER QUEEN VICTORIA.  After a couple of hours, she demanded that my brother take her back to the hospital because she knew that things were only getting fucking worse.  Once they arrived at the hospital and she was checked, a physician agreed that she was most certainly having the baby, and that it was time to admit her to Labor and Delivery.  As my  brother was helping to get her squared away, the person working in admissions was taking down all of her information, including medical history, and was apparently required to ask her if she had ever had any suicidal thoughts.  Her response was a GOLDEN, "Yes, asshole, about two fucking hours ago when you people checked me and sent me home."  I'd like to reiterate how much I adore my S-I-L.  She's fabulous.

More later.  Good night, All.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Baby Daddy

Pretty much everyone knows I was married previous to my current marriage.  (I like to think of it as the time I CHOSE THE WRONG GUY, GAVE HIM THE WRONG FINGER.)  Luckily, when that train wreck went off the rails, we were able to make a clean break.  We had no kids together, and I took custody of the dogs because, well, they were my fucking dogs and I wouldn't have trusted him with them anyway.  It all worked out for the best, hip hip hooray, onward and upward.  Unfortunately, a lot of people don't have it that easy and have to go through the nasty business of sharing custody, alternating holidays, and living trapped within the state lines of their ex.  (This is the reason I have a basket of hand-me-downs that need to be shipped to Florida, and why I'll be spending this coming Sunday at a roller rink in Greenbrier, but I'll spare you all the details.)

I'm definitely grateful that Husband #1 and I produced no offspring, and even more grateful that I started making better choices before choosing Husband #2 (though, considering how our relationship unfolded, I probably should credit the Almighty Fate for that, rather than the maturity of my decision making).  However, I can't help but wonder how people who share children with an ex can do so as gracefully as many of them do.  I mean, Belly looks exactly like a girl version of B.  If he and I ever split (which we won't, because he adores me--rightfully so--and I'm pretty fond of him most of the time) I would be fucked.  There's no way I could look at or be around Belly and not think constantly of B.  And if B was an ex, thinking constantly about him is probably the last damn thing I would want to spend my time doing (unless I was plotting revenge against him for something dreadful he did to me-- I DO enjoy some good revenge-plotting).  Likewise, Sutt looks like MY side of the family (and, randomly, laughs just like my Grandpa did), which means that B would be in the same situation whenever HE had time with the kids.  (Actually, no, he probably wouldn't.  Guys don't seem to think on levels that deep.  It would most likely never even cross his mind.  But it would MINE, and that's all that matters here.)

I watch B's stepbrother and his wife seamlessly share custody of their daughter with her Dad (the two Dads even coached her t-ball team together) and B's half-sister and her fiance' share custody of their daughter with her Mom, and I think, "How in the HOLY HELL do they DO that?"  There doesn't seem to be much arguing or swearing, and there has certainly been no assault or kidnapping, all of which would be going down if I was trying to co-parent with an ex.  It makes me think that those little people must REALLY bring out the best in us, their parents and role models, after all.  Maybe being "Mom" or "Dad" or "StepGrandma" or "Half-Aunt" is as good as we get, regardless of how short-tempered or frustrated we may sometimes be with it.

It's something to think about, at least.