Mom was pretty cranky today, so in an effort to pacify and play nice, I spent the evening in the living room with them instead of in my room. I picked a movie off my Netflix queue, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, and we watched it. Or I watched it, Dad slept through the whole thing, and Mom slept through a good chunk of the middle. That's not really a comment on the quality of the movie. Dad's got pneumonia right now, so he spends a lot of most evenings sleeping in the chair. And Mom falls asleep in front of any movie that isn't overtly Christian or produced by the Hallmark channel.
Other than Harry's Law, there are no TV shows that we both enjoy. And I've pretty much exhausted my supply of Instant Netflix movies in the Family category. So if anyone has any suggestions, that would be great. They don't have to be animated, and they don't have to be kiddish. They just need to be low on cursing and adult material. And for my sanity if they could be low on the religious references and cheese factor, that would be good, too.
Even though Mom was snitty today (she is totally freaking out about all the ice outside our front door and getting the cars and driveway cleared out, even though we have no where to go and no way to get there, since the roads are just as bad), I had a pretty good day. I read a book I enjoyed by a new-to-me author. If Dad listened to Rush Limbaugh I never caught him at it. And I, surprisingly, got a good night's sleep last night after my 3 hour nap. I think I'm almost caught up. Or as caught up as I ever get.
So that was my day. How was yours?
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Attitude Adjustment
I took a three hour nap this afternoon. It's made a world of difference in my mood. There's been a few minor annoyances today, but my nap armed me to deal with them like a rational(ish) human being and not fly off the handle or rant on the internet.
Tonight we watched Harry's Law as a family. The usual thing is that I retreat to my room after dinner and do my own damn thing. (Mom and Dad have an unhealthy appreciation for Hallmark movies, and movies she finds at the Christian store. It's February and they're still watching Christmas movies. I don't mind an occasional cheesy/sappy movie, but there's a limit.) But we all enjoy Harry's Law, so we usually watch that one together.
It surprises me greatly that Mom and Dad like it. The language alone would normally be enough to send my mother flying. And you can't deny that Harry comes at things with a liberal world view. Dad listens to Rush Limbaugh. Also, the show's by David E. Kelley. There haven't been any dancing babies yet, but there is a certain wackiness that you might expect from this guy. (Harry, who is a woman, has set up a law office in the ghettos of Cincinnati? Columbus? I don't remember. Somewhere in Ohio. The storefront she took over used to be a shoe store, and the former occupant left quite possibly thousands of dollars worth of designer shoes. Did I mention this was in the ghetto? Anyway, her assistant answers the phone, "Harry's Law and Fine Shoes," which should tell you all you need to know about the show. Oh, and Kathy Bates plays Harry.) If I were to make a bet on the one show Mom and Dad would not like, this is the one I'd pick. But I guess to them it's less objectionable than the cut 'em up, shoot 'em up shows I like to watch, like SVU and CSI. There's very little on screen violence in Harry's Law, and so far she's managed to help somebody who really needed it by the end of the episode, so I guess that fits with their tastes. I just like that Harry is a broad who's willing to call it like she sees it without having a hang 'em high kind of attitude.
I think I'm actually starting to get tired, so I'll cut it off there. Today was a better day for me, and hopefully tomorrow will be, too.
Tonight we watched Harry's Law as a family. The usual thing is that I retreat to my room after dinner and do my own damn thing. (Mom and Dad have an unhealthy appreciation for Hallmark movies, and movies she finds at the Christian store. It's February and they're still watching Christmas movies. I don't mind an occasional cheesy/sappy movie, but there's a limit.) But we all enjoy Harry's Law, so we usually watch that one together.
It surprises me greatly that Mom and Dad like it. The language alone would normally be enough to send my mother flying. And you can't deny that Harry comes at things with a liberal world view. Dad listens to Rush Limbaugh. Also, the show's by David E. Kelley. There haven't been any dancing babies yet, but there is a certain wackiness that you might expect from this guy. (Harry, who is a woman, has set up a law office in the ghettos of Cincinnati? Columbus? I don't remember. Somewhere in Ohio. The storefront she took over used to be a shoe store, and the former occupant left quite possibly thousands of dollars worth of designer shoes. Did I mention this was in the ghetto? Anyway, her assistant answers the phone, "Harry's Law and Fine Shoes," which should tell you all you need to know about the show. Oh, and Kathy Bates plays Harry.) If I were to make a bet on the one show Mom and Dad would not like, this is the one I'd pick. But I guess to them it's less objectionable than the cut 'em up, shoot 'em up shows I like to watch, like SVU and CSI. There's very little on screen violence in Harry's Law, and so far she's managed to help somebody who really needed it by the end of the episode, so I guess that fits with their tastes. I just like that Harry is a broad who's willing to call it like she sees it without having a hang 'em high kind of attitude.
I think I'm actually starting to get tired, so I'll cut it off there. Today was a better day for me, and hopefully tomorrow will be, too.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
In Which I Am Unpleasant
I have many annoyances and frustrations today. And so I thought, why not share them with you? That is what the internet is for after all. Ranting and porn. Sorry, no porn today.
Annoyance #1: There was a cop killed in Indianapolis recently. It's a terrible thing. He pulled someone over for a traffic stop, and the guy shot him. There are many things about this which are bad, including the fact that the guy was erroneously out on bail, and shouldn't have been out and free to be shooting people in the first place. But the reaction to this has been extreme. They rented out a sports arena to hold the funeral. Reportedly, thousands of people attended today, in the middle of an ice storm. They televised the service. It was on for hours. Literally, multiple hours. My mother watched the whole thing, TV cranked to the max as usual. I had to hide in my room with the door closed, listening to ABBA and Katy Perry to drown the whole thing out.
I'm willing to admit that my less-than-ideal emotional state is at least partially, if not mostly, to blame for the aggravation this is causing me. But I can't handle listening, even second hand, to two or three hours worth of funeral right now, even if the whole thing didn't strike me as an overblown media circus. I'm very sorry the man died, especially when he was serving the public and the man who killed him should never have been out in the first place. But the hoopla is distasteful.
Annoyance #2: This one is both gross and embarrassing, but since I'm being unpleasant anyway, I'm just going to go ahead and (over)share. I can't shower every day. My skin (like the rest of me) hates the cold and dryness, and showering daily makes the whole thing worse. Plus, showering is hard work, and I just don't have the energy for it. Last week I went for several days, it may have been like 5, without showering. Objectively, I know that's gross. It's embarrassing to admit. But I didn't want to, so I didn't. (In the rational part of my mind, I know that this is a fairly big red flag that there's something not good going on in my head. Unfortunately, that's only a very small part of my mind. The rest is saying "fuck it", which is why I think I probably need to find a psychiatrist pretty soon.) I finally took a shower on Sunday night, when Mom refused to serve dinner until I'd bathed. And then I showered again last night (but didn't wash my hair, that was just too much effort) when Mom started in on how we were going to lose power and I might not get a chance again for a while. We didn't lose power. (Obviously, or you wouldn't be reading this post.) Today, after showering two days in a row, I am in itchy misery. I'm scratching my pits like a monkey. It's not pleasant, and it's not pretty. And Mom is hassling me again to take another shower. Fuck that. I am not showering today. Maybe not tomorrow either. Go away.
After venting Annoyances #1 and #2, Annoyances #3-5 don't seem so significant. I want to hide out in my room, reading and listening to the most cheerful music I can find. I don't want to interact with my parents. I don't want them coming and standing in my door and talking to me. (Which my mother does all the time, and which is bugging the ever loving fuck out of me.) I want all my interactions to be on my own terms. The internet is perfect for that. Living with other human beings is not. I don't want to live here any more.
My plan was to try to post every day this month. February is a short month anyway, so why not? Although, after that screed I'm not sure anyone is going to want to read any of it.
Going back in my hole now.
Annoyance #1: There was a cop killed in Indianapolis recently. It's a terrible thing. He pulled someone over for a traffic stop, and the guy shot him. There are many things about this which are bad, including the fact that the guy was erroneously out on bail, and shouldn't have been out and free to be shooting people in the first place. But the reaction to this has been extreme. They rented out a sports arena to hold the funeral. Reportedly, thousands of people attended today, in the middle of an ice storm. They televised the service. It was on for hours. Literally, multiple hours. My mother watched the whole thing, TV cranked to the max as usual. I had to hide in my room with the door closed, listening to ABBA and Katy Perry to drown the whole thing out.
I'm willing to admit that my less-than-ideal emotional state is at least partially, if not mostly, to blame for the aggravation this is causing me. But I can't handle listening, even second hand, to two or three hours worth of funeral right now, even if the whole thing didn't strike me as an overblown media circus. I'm very sorry the man died, especially when he was serving the public and the man who killed him should never have been out in the first place. But the hoopla is distasteful.
Annoyance #2: This one is both gross and embarrassing, but since I'm being unpleasant anyway, I'm just going to go ahead and (over)share. I can't shower every day. My skin (like the rest of me) hates the cold and dryness, and showering daily makes the whole thing worse. Plus, showering is hard work, and I just don't have the energy for it. Last week I went for several days, it may have been like 5, without showering. Objectively, I know that's gross. It's embarrassing to admit. But I didn't want to, so I didn't. (In the rational part of my mind, I know that this is a fairly big red flag that there's something not good going on in my head. Unfortunately, that's only a very small part of my mind. The rest is saying "fuck it", which is why I think I probably need to find a psychiatrist pretty soon.) I finally took a shower on Sunday night, when Mom refused to serve dinner until I'd bathed. And then I showered again last night (but didn't wash my hair, that was just too much effort) when Mom started in on how we were going to lose power and I might not get a chance again for a while. We didn't lose power. (Obviously, or you wouldn't be reading this post.) Today, after showering two days in a row, I am in itchy misery. I'm scratching my pits like a monkey. It's not pleasant, and it's not pretty. And Mom is hassling me again to take another shower. Fuck that. I am not showering today. Maybe not tomorrow either. Go away.
After venting Annoyances #1 and #2, Annoyances #3-5 don't seem so significant. I want to hide out in my room, reading and listening to the most cheerful music I can find. I don't want to interact with my parents. I don't want them coming and standing in my door and talking to me. (Which my mother does all the time, and which is bugging the ever loving fuck out of me.) I want all my interactions to be on my own terms. The internet is perfect for that. Living with other human beings is not. I don't want to live here any more.
***
My plan was to try to post every day this month. February is a short month anyway, so why not? Although, after that screed I'm not sure anyone is going to want to read any of it.
Going back in my hole now.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Hanging on to the Happy
I've been dealing with some difficult internal stuff this past week, and there have been a few things that have saved me.
1) Comfort food. Last night I made a Mexican casserole that I used to make in Houston. It wasn't quite how I'd have done it if I were working from scratch (I'd rather start off with chicken and rotel in the crockpot instead of left over cooked chicken), but it was still pretty good and a taste of home. Then I made a Strawberry Dream Pie. Tonight Mom made mashed potatoes and gravy just for me. Yum. I had a bowl for a midnight snack, too.
2) I'm reading a really fantastic book called A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. Really. It's fab. I'll be reviewing it soon. I'm about half way through the book, only 275 more pages to go. It's a big 'un.
3) I've been listening to a LOT of Katy Perry. Very peppy. My favorite is Teenage Dream. But I don't love the video, so here is the boys' choir from Glee doing their version. Hope it makes you as happy as it makes me.
1) Comfort food. Last night I made a Mexican casserole that I used to make in Houston. It wasn't quite how I'd have done it if I were working from scratch (I'd rather start off with chicken and rotel in the crockpot instead of left over cooked chicken), but it was still pretty good and a taste of home. Then I made a Strawberry Dream Pie. Tonight Mom made mashed potatoes and gravy just for me. Yum. I had a bowl for a midnight snack, too.
2) I'm reading a really fantastic book called A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. Really. It's fab. I'll be reviewing it soon. I'm about half way through the book, only 275 more pages to go. It's a big 'un.
3) I've been listening to a LOT of Katy Perry. Very peppy. My favorite is Teenage Dream. But I don't love the video, so here is the boys' choir from Glee doing their version. Hope it makes you as happy as it makes me.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Happy, Happy Day!
The doorbell rang a few minutes ago. FedEx delivery. It was addressed to me, although I wasn't expecting anything. I open the package, and lo and behold-- medicine! Three months worth of Lyrica, free! That's almost $750 retail. I sent in paperwork to Pfizer's patient assistance program a couple weeks ago, and they've already sent me my first shipment. Thank you, Pfizer!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
If I Had a Million Dollars
I have a rich fantasy life. Lately I've been imagining what I would do if I won the lottery. The short answer is that I'd move back to Houston. I'd buy a little house and I'd get set back up with my old doctors and go back to my old life. (Mom has been nagging me about getting on the ball and finding new specialists. I know I have to, but I don't wanna.)
Then, I would buy a car, because I really miss having my own wheels. I loved my old Camry, but if I won the lottery and had virtually unlimited funds, I think I'd buy a hybrid. Houston may be oil country, but I really like the idea of spending less on gas. And while I'm going green, I'd want solar panels on my house.
I'd hire someone to come in and do all the cleaning and maybe some cooking. I'm just too run down to keep up with that kind of stuff, even if I didn't hate cleaning and avoid it whenever possible.
And then the biggest thing, the one that probably won't be practical even if someone handed me a million dollars right now, is that I'd travel. I'd love to head out to California and go to the RT convention. I'd like to go to NYC to the RWA convention. I love all things Disney, and I'd love to go to Disney World again. I haven't been there since I was a freshman in high school. They've opened like three new parks since then. I'm pretty sure that just one of those trips would leave me scary exhausted, let alone doing all three this year. Maybe it's a good thing I'm broke.
On a smaller scale, when/if the government ever comes through and decides to pay me my social security, I'd like to take some of the back benefits they owe me and buy some bright yellow paint and get rid of this drab gray/purple color on my bedroom walls. (This dingy room is enough to depress a person all by itself.) I'd like to get some sort of media cabinet organization thingie so that I have something to unpack what little stuff I have into. More yellow paint for my bathroom. And maybe some new towels and bed linens. (Not yellow. I'm thinking blue for the bed and bright pink and green for the towels, to go with my flamingo shower curtain.)
My realistic fantasies are much more modest than my fantasy fantasies, but at the moment they're all out of reach. Maybe I should start buying lottery tickets.
Then, I would buy a car, because I really miss having my own wheels. I loved my old Camry, but if I won the lottery and had virtually unlimited funds, I think I'd buy a hybrid. Houston may be oil country, but I really like the idea of spending less on gas. And while I'm going green, I'd want solar panels on my house.
I'd hire someone to come in and do all the cleaning and maybe some cooking. I'm just too run down to keep up with that kind of stuff, even if I didn't hate cleaning and avoid it whenever possible.
And then the biggest thing, the one that probably won't be practical even if someone handed me a million dollars right now, is that I'd travel. I'd love to head out to California and go to the RT convention. I'd like to go to NYC to the RWA convention. I love all things Disney, and I'd love to go to Disney World again. I haven't been there since I was a freshman in high school. They've opened like three new parks since then. I'm pretty sure that just one of those trips would leave me scary exhausted, let alone doing all three this year. Maybe it's a good thing I'm broke.
On a smaller scale, when/if the government ever comes through and decides to pay me my social security, I'd like to take some of the back benefits they owe me and buy some bright yellow paint and get rid of this drab gray/purple color on my bedroom walls. (This dingy room is enough to depress a person all by itself.) I'd like to get some sort of media cabinet organization thingie so that I have something to unpack what little stuff I have into. More yellow paint for my bathroom. And maybe some new towels and bed linens. (Not yellow. I'm thinking blue for the bed and bright pink and green for the towels, to go with my flamingo shower curtain.)
My realistic fantasies are much more modest than my fantasy fantasies, but at the moment they're all out of reach. Maybe I should start buying lottery tickets.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Grrrrr
We're having a problem here at Multi-Generational Housing Solution Central, and it's really getting to me. A couple weeks ago Mom bought a package of hot dog buns and left them sitting on the kitchen table instead of putting them away in the pantry or refrigerator. Later that evening, while everyone was watching TV, Trouble jumped up on the kitchen table and chewed a big hole in the package, eating a good part of four of the eight buns in the pack.
Mom lost her shit. She cleaned up the mess, and then she came into my room, where I was sitting watching TV and Troub was sleeping on the bed, and started yelling at him. Mom is loud anyway, because she's losing her hearing, but this was right up in his face, shaking her finger at him, loud. He tried to back up a bit, she just kept coming. So he hissed at her. She gave him a little tap on the rump and kept yelling. He hissed again, she hit him a little harder and kept yelling. He hissed louder, and she really started whaling on him. At this point I started yelling, and Mom backed off enough for Troub to get under the bed and hide. Then she tried to come around the bed and go after him again. Can we say out of proportion response for a $2.50 pack of buns? I had to chase her out of my room to get her to leave him alone. And he'd been sleeping on my bed for at least 45 minutes before she came in screaming, so he probably had no idea why she was suddenly attacking him.
Now it's weeks later, and Troub still hisses and runs away every time she comes into my room. It doesn't help that she insists on making eye contact and pushing his personal space boundaries. She seems to be taking a nasty pleasure in tormenting him, and when I pointed out today that he's still upset about what she did (after she came in and chased him off AGAIN), she said she's still upset about what HE did. Dude. He wrecked a package of hot dog buns. Get a grip. If it's such a big fucking deal I will buy you another pack of fucking buns. When I pointed out that Troub has a right to not be hassled in his own space, she said something to the effect of "It's not his space, it's my space." So much for the whole "it's your home, too," speech I keep getting.
I never thought I'd have this kind of problem when we all moved in together. It's bad enough that I feel like I can't get a moment's peace, with her constantly poking her nose in my room and sometimes just opening the door and walking in. (What does a closed door say to you?) But I can't tolerate her hassling my cat anymore. I don't know how I'm going to handle this. She's proven to be completely impervious to hints and subtle suggestions. I'm going to have to get forceful about it, and probably about her leaving me the hell alone while I'm at it. We both have a right to be left in peace when we've retreated to our room-- the only place in the house that is supposed to be just for us. (I can't even get her to leave me alone in the bathroom!) The only outcome I can see of this conversation is for her to get all cranky and butthurt and even worse. And if I don't find a good way of doing this soon I'm going to end up snapping and saying it in the rudest way possible. But I'm sorry, the way she's behaving is not OK.
ETA: Mom walked into my room a few minutes ago and asked, "are you mad at me?" I told her I wasn't happy about how she was acting with Troub. First she starts on, "well, he's just a cat," and then she changed the subject and walked out. Now she's crashing around in the kitchen. If she doesn't take it easy she's going to break something.
Mom lost her shit. She cleaned up the mess, and then she came into my room, where I was sitting watching TV and Troub was sleeping on the bed, and started yelling at him. Mom is loud anyway, because she's losing her hearing, but this was right up in his face, shaking her finger at him, loud. He tried to back up a bit, she just kept coming. So he hissed at her. She gave him a little tap on the rump and kept yelling. He hissed again, she hit him a little harder and kept yelling. He hissed louder, and she really started whaling on him. At this point I started yelling, and Mom backed off enough for Troub to get under the bed and hide. Then she tried to come around the bed and go after him again. Can we say out of proportion response for a $2.50 pack of buns? I had to chase her out of my room to get her to leave him alone. And he'd been sleeping on my bed for at least 45 minutes before she came in screaming, so he probably had no idea why she was suddenly attacking him.
Now it's weeks later, and Troub still hisses and runs away every time she comes into my room. It doesn't help that she insists on making eye contact and pushing his personal space boundaries. She seems to be taking a nasty pleasure in tormenting him, and when I pointed out today that he's still upset about what she did (after she came in and chased him off AGAIN), she said she's still upset about what HE did. Dude. He wrecked a package of hot dog buns. Get a grip. If it's such a big fucking deal I will buy you another pack of fucking buns. When I pointed out that Troub has a right to not be hassled in his own space, she said something to the effect of "It's not his space, it's my space." So much for the whole "it's your home, too," speech I keep getting.
I never thought I'd have this kind of problem when we all moved in together. It's bad enough that I feel like I can't get a moment's peace, with her constantly poking her nose in my room and sometimes just opening the door and walking in. (What does a closed door say to you?) But I can't tolerate her hassling my cat anymore. I don't know how I'm going to handle this. She's proven to be completely impervious to hints and subtle suggestions. I'm going to have to get forceful about it, and probably about her leaving me the hell alone while I'm at it. We both have a right to be left in peace when we've retreated to our room-- the only place in the house that is supposed to be just for us. (I can't even get her to leave me alone in the bathroom!) The only outcome I can see of this conversation is for her to get all cranky and butthurt and even worse. And if I don't find a good way of doing this soon I'm going to end up snapping and saying it in the rudest way possible. But I'm sorry, the way she's behaving is not OK.
ETA: Mom walked into my room a few minutes ago and asked, "are you mad at me?" I told her I wasn't happy about how she was acting with Troub. First she starts on, "well, he's just a cat," and then she changed the subject and walked out. Now she's crashing around in the kitchen. If she doesn't take it easy she's going to break something.
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