Drama

Somewhere along the way to here, I became a drama queen. I don’t honestly know when it happened. I get a pain and immediately I think I’m dying. I seriously start planning for what will happen to Max, where I want stuff to go, how sad everyone will be when I’m gone. I beg for signs from the universe, and when they come, I rejoice – until I realize that I’m most likely fooling myself and I really am going to die from whatever random pain I just had.

I think I have a UTI. I’ve put off calling the doctor, because I don’t want confirmation that it’s really the only documented case of black death in this century And I don’t particularly like my doctor either.

I often say that the internet has caused an increase in drama. Facebook is my daily dose of “who’s fighting with whom?” It’s very amusing to watch, most days.

Internet forums – another wonderful source of drama. Even the food you feed your dog can be wrong, and you can be made to feel like the scum of the earth for even thinking of choosing such crap.

I don’t know. Maybe it was all the stuff with the sisters after Mother died, the only way they would listen was if I screamed. Maybe it’s students, who are so distracted that I have to put on a show to get and keep their attention.

It’s not fun to be a drama queen. It’s much more fun to be a silly princess.

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Quilts and scarves and who needs to clean?

Oh, the stress of taking that first stitch! I started. I pulled it out. I started again. I didn’t like it. I think I’m going to change my normal quilting pattern – because I realized that I really don’t enjoy stitching in the ditch. However. Now I have to find a pen that will show on dark fabric, and disappear in a day or so.

I’m not planning on spending any more money. We’ve been spending money like drunken sailors for the past few months and that’s just got to stop. I’ve been A.C. Moore free for three weeks, using up 5 balls of yarn without replacing them.

And sewing is taking over. I’m remembering how much I love to sew. How much fun it is to take little pieces of fabric and turn them into something.

I wish …………for nothing, really. It would be nice to stay home all the time and do crafts all day. But in the end, I love our home, and I don’t mind the time spent keeping it nice. I love my life.

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Monday thoughts

I really seriously hate Mondays. And apparently they feel the same about me.

A phone call with no results.
A phone call that was a fishing expedition – and I was the fish
a dog who won’t listen
who keeps bringing shit home from the field
and seems to feel that he has to bark at every squirrel

Bear goes to work and I’m alone

I finished laying out the quilt tonight. That brought a whole set of emotions to the surface. Oh, Mother, I miss you.

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Feeling my age

My husband, for some reason totally unclear to me, likes to watch comedians on HBO. Usually he chooses young Black guys, sometimes women, but normally guys. They all seem to have a love for the word “motherf****r.” This is funny? I guess I’m old, or a prude, but I don’t find some person who is seemingly very angry at the world, and using this word constantly, as amusing. And yet there are people in the audience screaming with laughter.

Maybe it’s just me. Sigh

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Looking back and looking forward

It’s gonna take more than one post to get this done but I wanted to at least make a start. It’s been a crazy ass couple of weeks, and a crazy ass year. So much happened.

The first thing I think about when I think of last year is that we lost our Anna. It was in December that she told me about the cancer, and it was six months later that she was gone. Bittersweet memories – I spent as much time as I possibly could with her in those months, and every minute was wonderful, precious, filled my heart with love and joy. She was such a special lady, more so for not knowing how very special she was. I miss her so.

Max had his first (and hopefully last) hot spots. That was brutal, for both of us. For him because of the pain, for me because of the helpless feeling of knowing he was hurting and not being able to fix it.

We walked a ton! That was a good thing, but it was also a bad thing. Max pulling on me caused chondritis flares that have gotten progressively worse.

I ended up in the ER in June. I thought it was a heart attack, but it was chondritis. It was a very scary day.

Max has continued to be a joy, and a trial. I love him so, and yet he can drive me nuts.

Work has become just that, work. I don’t love it like I used to, it’s become something I do for the money. This year I had two classes that really put me to the test, I actively disliked most of the students. But then I had two classes that I adored. I guess one balanced out the other.

Snow anxiety – still working on it, but it seems to be a little better
Anxiety in general – I’m trying to remember that I can’t control the circumstances, but I can control my reaction to them.

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This week has been a true test of my serenity

If my life were a soap opera, this would be cliff hanger week. Things were just going along in the normal craziness, when the phone rang. My sister, with bad news. My oldest sister – usually referred to as the oldest Evil – passed away 7 years ago. Holy cow, yeah, it really was that long. So the next sister, who has rarely been evil, was calling to tell me that the oldest one’s husband had died.

A week earlier.

No one was notified. Not his oldest daughter. Not the granddaughter he raised. Only a select few were told. Another niece saw it in the newspaper, called her mom, and his oldest daughter. I called my great-niece, and had to deliver the news that the man who raised her had passed away a week earlier, and that no one had bothered to let her know.

Oh, they have a lot of excuses. They didn’t know how to get ahold of her is the best one. Odd, that. Several people know that she and I are close, and several people know how to find ME. But no one thought to call me, either.

No, this was planned. This was done to make sure she wasn’t there. Her mother was also excluded, but like J, she showed up anyway. They wouldn’t let her near the coffin. They denied her – or tried to – a last goodbye to her father. Stupidity and petty jealousy and pure greed is all that is.

But J made it to the funeral, and will soon be on her way home, to deal with her grief. Thank goodness she has good friends, who went with her to the funeral, and the viewing, and gave her a place to stay. Thank goodness for my friends, who worked overtime to keep her safe.

It’s been difficult. Someone I’ve known for nearly all of my life has passed away. I wasn’t close to him for a very long time, and he was not always a very nice person. But he was always good to me. I really didn’t much like him in later years, and I really need to work on forgiving him for allowing the Oldest Evil to do the things she did to J. So I’m grieving, too.

Added to all this is the normal Christmas stress. Yeah, it’s been a very stressful week.

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Christmas is a’comin and I got the blues

Again. I get the blues every year. In the spirit of “I can control my reactions,” I’m trying to not let it get to me. Today was not one of the best. Max decided to be a dog. Yes, a dog. I know he’s a dog, but when he shows his true canine nature, it tends to startle me. He may have killed something, I didn’t find a carcass, but he was eating a liver – still bloody. All day he’s been searching for it – Bear threw it far into the sticker bushes and he’s actually tried to go in there a couple times. It’s frustrating to me that he won’t listen, that I have to scream at him to get his bloody attention.

And I had to say goodbye to a great group of students. It was one of those classes that will keep me going through the rotten ones. Or make them worse.

I’m feeling old. Yesterday’s birthday was the hardest in my life. I’ve never paid much attention to numbers but something about this one – just screamed old. I can’t bring myself to say it yet, that I’m 60 years old. I’m the baby, the youngest, the kid. How did this 60 thing happen? I’m feeling a wrapping up – an ending. I feel like I should be divesting myself of stuff instead of gathering more. I find myself wondering what will happen to various things when I’m gone – more than I ever have. And wanting to make sure they go where I want them. Then I think, “will I care?” It’s all very strange all of a sudden.

I’ll muddle through. Most likely be saying the same stuff 20 years from now. If I can still see the screen on the computer!

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Reactions

I can’t control the weather, but I can control how I react to it.
I can’t control Max taking off into the field, but I can control my reaction to it.
I can remain calm
I can try to remain calm, anyway!
I WILL make it up the driveway, I’ve done it thousands of times.
I CAN control my reaction to this.

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Christmas – and a minor rant

Christmas is celebrated on December 25th, every year.  It’s a time of giving, a time of decorating trees, making donations to charities, spreading joy, and for most, in some way, celebrating the birth of Christ.  For those of us who don’t consider ourselves Christians, it’s still Christmas.  It may offend the politically correct, but it’s not X-mas, it’s not Giftmas, it’s not some holiday made up by Jerry Seinfeld, and it’s not Kwanza.   It’s CHRISTMAS.   Saying “Merry Christmas” to people simply honors the reality of the day.  

I know enough history to know that many of the Christmas traditions were taken from other religions.  I know that most people really don’t care about the religious significance of the day, anyway.  It’s a day of conspicuous consumption, of buying what you can’t afford so you can put it on Craig’s List a few months later when no one is using it.   

What’s the point of making up a stupid name like “gftmas?”   

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I feel snarky today

Everyone is posting about how they’re thankful for this, and thankful for that.   Bah humbug.   Why just now?  Why not every day?   There are so many things I’m thankful for every day – but right now I’d be thankful for a nap.   

I broke down and got a prong collar for Max.  He’s not a fan, but he walked pretty well with it – until we got to the corner.  My fault as much as his, he wouldn’t move because he wanted to go play, and I wouldn’t pull on the prong collar, so I had to get behind him and push him. That combined with all the Thanksgiving prep has given me a sore back and shoulders.  

Getting old is a pile of hurt.   My bones hurt, my heart hurts from the people I miss, the traditions no longer a part of my life.  My head hurts from eating chocolate yesterday.   My  brain hurts from all I still have to do.  

And I’m feeling snarky but not saying what I want – like, “If you’re making such an awesome dinner, how do you have so much time to be on facebook?”  Or, “what’s your excuse for missing THIS exam?  Who died this time?”   The sarcasm button is pushed all the way in.   But I’ll bite my tongue tomorrow, and be thankful that my brother in law is deaf – so he can’t hear what I say to myself when his back is turned.  

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