Three Armed Baby

So I check what brings people to my blog now and then. I can see if they googled something that sent them here, etc. I have a list of keywords that I get hits from because it amuses me. But this is the most amusing one so far and it just keeps coming up lately so I just must share. It started about a week ago and I must have seen over a dozen hits just by people googling this phrase:

Three armed baby.

It sends them to my old hot toddie post (which also gets hits from a ton of people googling hot toddie, by the way). I mean, today I've already gotten 2 hits from people searching for three-armed baby information. This all intrigues and amuses me.

P.S. Now the three armed baby fans will be directed to this post as well. I'll have a whole fan club of three armed baby supporters.

Crushin on someone

I was wearing my new khaki pants today. I've had them for 2 weeks. I was walking a parade for Memorial Day and at the end I was told that my pants had ripped right along the fly, leaving a huge gaping hole exposing my panties. Great. How many people had looked at my panties as I was trying to hand out flyers?

Oh well. At least I was wearing nice panties.

Yay! Anon is back! I hope he'll email me again.

This guy came into the office to volunteer last Friday and he was hot and funny and very friendly. He leaned in really close to me to see something I was pulling up on my computer screen and I got the butterflies. I haven't gotten the butterflies from a complete stranger in a long time. He's younger than me but then I haven't been with a guy who wasn't younger than me in over a year. I got his email address so I could send him a link to a video clip and I emailed him Friday night.

I haven't gotten a response yet and I'm disappointed. I frigging hate this. Why do I have to want to start dating again all of a sudden? Why do I have to have a crush? I haven't had a crush in forever and I don't like it. Not one bit.

Catching up: Guy Got Fired, Tantric Sex, Oxygen Mask

Been working like 14 hour days all the time lately, but been enjoying it. Some catching up to do here though.

I got my coworker fired, which I have mixed feelings about. He was really a nice guy (when he wasn't yelling at me). He was really earnest in doing his job (when he wasn't yelling at our volunteers that he didn't have time for them). He really wanted to get our organization to succeed (when he wasn't undermining it by spouting off to the public about things counterproductive to our message). See technically I was his boss and I was brought into this part of the organization from the area I had been in with the express purpose of trying to reign him in and keep him on message and on track. I was his last chance to keep the job, you could say, but he didn't see it that way and every time I tried to correct him or move him away from making another mistake, he yelled at me. I mean, actually raised his voice to the point of yelling, not just spoke meanly. Wednesday when he did it in front of our subordinate was the last straw.

Last weekend I learned all about tantric sex. I had of course heard of it before but didn't know the details. I mean, did you know the guy doesn't come and he's fine with this? It also makes things go on for hours. Not trying to brag here, but I'm just saying-four. I mean, that is a hell of a workout. Next day, my whole body was sore in that good, you've-been-working-out-really-hard-at-the-gym way.

The doctor wants me to go back for another sleep study with this oxygen mask on my face and I refuse to call and schedule it. If that's successful, I'll have to wear the damn thing for the rest of my life. Pretty sexy, a girl in bed with a mask on, huh? Plus, I've heard insurance doesn't cover the whole cost and I don't have the cash to pay for that crap. AND I know my apnea is caused by my ginormous tonsils and if the doc would just remove them everything would be fine again. Seriously, my tonsils are practically touching when I'm NOT sick with a sore throat. I've gotta tell my doctor to just rip those fuckers out because I'm sick of: waking up 273 times a night due to apnea; choking on my food because it gets stuck on my tonsils; fearing that I will suffocate every time I get a throat infection; and one more thing that giant tonsils handicaps that I won't state here because I've already talked about sex enough in this post.

I'm taking it easy this weekend so I think I'll be posting a few more times. Off to the vineyards for some wine tasting now though.

Why I'm a Bad Person on Mother's Day

There is a ton of guilt involved in thinking bad thoughts about my mother ever since, you know, she got diagnosed with cancer and every new trip to the doctor could bring news about her impending death. I had a rough time when I was a teenager, so in turn my parents had a rough time. It took me a few years into adulthood to be able to appreciate my parents enough to overcome any anger I felt from my childhood. Still, I knew that my parents were flawed, more than a lot of parents probably.

I wasn't beaten. My mother does have anger issues and yells a lot when she gets mad at children. Not at adults, just children. She is one of those parents that has brought the guilt trip to the level of art form. I can remember having a shoe thrown at me once. I suppose if I cared to I could make a case for emotional abuse. Example: My brother is a definite black sheep. Drug problems growing up, stole from us, ran away a lot, got arrested, etc. Mom used to yell at me when she got really mad, "You're turning out just like John!" Then after a couple of years, she stopped yelling that. Instead, she yelled at my younger sister, "You're turning out just like Tina!" That cut deep. I really wasn't that bad a kid. I never did drugs, didn't drink til I was 18, got good grades, didn't get in trouble at school. I got a bad attitude sometimes. That was as bad as I got.

Considering where my mother came from with her childhood, you could say she turned around quite well, but the scars of her youth sometimes shine brightly to me. Now that I am grown, they show most not in her dealings with me but in her dealings with my father, and secondly with my niece. What are the scars? Her father was a real bastard. He beat his children and his wife. He molested the daughters. He would eat steak while the children and his wife had to eat crap food. A treat for my mother and her seven SEVEN brothers and sisters was when my grandmother snuck a bag of M & M's (the small bag) and they got to sort it into piles by color and split the piles among them all.

Then my mom got married and had my brother. While she was pregnant, her husband left her for another woman, except he lied to her, saying he was going to a different state for a job and would come back for her when he was settled. When she found out the truth, soon after giving birth, she dumped all his shit onto the front lawn and washed her hands of him. This forced her to have to move back in with my grandparents until she married my dad four years later. So yeah, she has good reason for her anger toward men, and I do honestly think she never realizes how horrible she is being to my father but still . . . it is so hard to witness. It was hard enough when I was growing up but now that I am an adult who has been in relationships of my own, it is even harder to witness.

Example: My mother didn't want to celebrate Mother's Day with the Grandmonster. Understandable. So she devised a plan to invite the Grandmonster to breakfast at NINE AM, so that the obligatory time with the woman would be over with early and she could enjoy the rest of her own Mother's Day. Of course, the Grandmonster refused because it was too early. Mom told Dad that he should just go spend time with the Grandmonster on his own today. Also, she didn't want my dad involved in her plans with us girls today. She wanted time alone with us. So my dad, who is very forgetful, got up and was ready to go to breakfast with the family at 9 AM today and was upset when no one else was up. He blamed poor communication and threw a little hissy fit. (Again, more on Dad some other time.) So he went to spend an hour or so at his mother's and then my mom decided that we girls should all quick take a shower and get out of the house so we could go somewhere together! So basically we ran away from my dad today.

We were out of the house for about 4 hours; meanwhile, Dad got home and expected to find us all there so he could spend time with us. He called and we told him we were at the store getting stuff for dinner (which we were by that point, but still my mother didn't want to tell him we had really left so we could all go out for a late breakfast together). When we finally got home late in the afternoon, my mother walks into the kitchen to find a large bouquet of flowers in a vase with a gorgeous handmade card leaning against the vase. What is her immediate reaction? Surprise? Happiness? Try disgust. She clucked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and made a big production about how she's told my dad a million times "small bouquets!" This harping on my dad about buying the wrong kind of flowers went on for about ten minutes with no thank you among the muttering and bitching. I watched my dad's expression turn from being proud of himself for doing something loving to him looking like someone kicked his puppy, tears welling in his eyes. The man had been waiting at home for hours for his family to show up while we were out ditching him, and when we get home he gets yelled at for buying a gift.

This kind of scene is all too common in my parents' house but what bothered me most today was watching my sister Stacy get angry at my dad along with my mom. Stacy is turning into my mother. She treats her boyfriend nearly as badly as Mom treats Dad, and now she's taking on my mom's irrational anger toward my dad. My mother really can be a bad person and it's rubbing off on Stacy; also the twisted relationship she and my dad share has clearly affected all of their childrens' abilities to have healthy relationships of their own. More on the relationship some other time I'm sure, but really this is about how hard it is for me to come to terms with some contradicting facts.

I love my mother a lot. I will be devastated when she is gone. She is not a great person all the time; in fact, sometimes she is a downright bad person. I have guilt even thinking this because of her illness. It is always hanging over my head that I shouldn't get mad at her, I shouldn't criticize her, because she is dying. And here I am on Mother's Day thinking about the things that bother me most about my mother. Double guilt.

I Had a Nice Dream

Last night I dreamed that I just met a guy and we really clicked. His face is fading fast from my memory but I know he was tall (of course everyone is tall next to me) and had dark hair. He made me happy. He sent me flowers for my graduation in the dream and I told him I liked him a lot. He thought I said I loved him and since we had only known each other a week or two, he was naturally a little shocked. We both laughed when I repeated what I really said. My friend wanted to make sure that we didn't rush into things too fast--specifically that we didn't move in together--to which I replied that I have always meant what I said about not wanting to live with a man again until I was getting married. (This I should probably post on later.)

The point I took away from the dream was that I was happy and ready to have a relationship again--in a year, when I am graduating--but I will be ready and I will be happy with a guy again.

Later tonightI will post an unconventional Mother's Day piece.