Ick.

Ya know, sometimes it's better not to look for family members online. Because then you're spared their public persona. Like when a young male cousin describes himself as "The best and biggest freak in bed!"

Even if he is just repeating some zodiac-description thing, that's just wrong.

I mean, what if I posted the Virgo description?

Dominant in relationships. Sexy. Someone loves them right now. Freak in bed. Always wants the last words. Caring. Smart. Intellectual. Attractive. Loyal. Easy to talk to. Hard to forget. Love at first sight. Everything you ever wanted.Easy to please. The one and only. The ultimate sexiness. Great kisser.

Even if it's hard to argue with the truth of it, does anyone in my family really want to know about it?

LOL

The Stupid Never Ends

Phone rings, it's my parents' house, I get excited because my sis is due in a little over a week.

Me: Hello?

My brother: Hey.

Me: What's going on?

My brother: Soooo...how are you?

Me: Good. What's going on?

My brother: Sooo, I don't know if Mom and Dad told you or not, but I might have another kid.

Me: What?

My brother: Yeah, the mother tried to blame it on another guy, but it turned out he's not the father, so now she said I am. The baby's already been adopted out, and they want me to sign the papers, so what do you think?

Me: Well, first of all, who's the mother?

My brother: Some crackhead.

Me: Nice. Condoms, [brother's name], condoms.

My brother: Yeah, yeah, so do you think I should sign the papers?

Me: Yes, I do. Let the kid have a good life.

The Weirdest Thing

My sister has a different last name now. Weird.

Bless That Kid

Why, Lord, must every conversation I have with my brother be retarded?

He calls from a weird number, leaves a message...I hesitate, then call the weird number back...after all, he changes cell phones with alarming regularity. Maybe it's new.

Crap, it's not new. It's his girlfriend's. Hang up on the voicemail greeting.

A minute later, she calls back. "I'm calling this number back." Yeah, great, I got a message from this number about an hour ago. From [my brother's name]. She immediately sounds all suspicious. "Who is this?!" His sister, girlie. No one is trying to steal that moron from you.

So there's that.

Then there's the explaining 12 times what my schedule is for Spring Break. And him not deciding when the kiddies should come visit their favorite auntie.*

"Well, I dunno. Call me tomorrow morning. Or I'll call you tomorrow morning."

No, you'll call me after you make a decision, because I'm not having this conversation again tomorrow.

Have another joint, bro.
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* The kids have always referred to me as "their" [Jenelle]. "This is my [Jenelle]." "Where is my [Jenelle]?" It's not "my aunt [Jenelle]." It's a running joke in the extended family, because my cousins or whoever will say I was their [Jenelle] first to tease the kids. "No, she's my [Jenelle]!"

I thought they'd grow out of it, but it's sticking around...my niece brought a couple of her little friends into the house last weekend. She introduced me: "This is my [Jenelle]," to the first friend and, "That's my [Jenelle]," to the second friend. Then as an afterthought, as they were all running down the stairs, she said, "And [my sister's name] too!"

My sister, who was sitting right at the table with me and in no way hidden or obstructed, just laughed.
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UPDATE 3/15 afternoon: And talking to my niece and nephew on the phone is so the opposite of retarded.

My niece: "I'm on Spring Break for 10 days!"...I know, so am I..."You are too? Yay!!!" She's a wee excited.

My nephew: "Your monkey's talking to you." So cute, that one.

5 yrs

Miss ya, Gram.

Cracka, Please

Whilst I was at the parental home, the male sibling wandered by and told me gleefully, "There's a South Park marathon this weekend." Then he asked, if you can believe it, "Did you know?"

Who does he think he's dealing with? No amateur, I.

I responded thusly: "You mean, a marathon like they do every weekend before a new season premieres, like this new season will premiere on Wednesday? Why, yes, I did know that."

Ever since Trey Parker snuck that marriage past me, I've had Matt Stone's Google activity closely monitored by my feedreader. Plus I visit South Park Studios daily. Like you do. (The universal "you"...not the specifically you "you".)

(Also, I will respond to comments in the post below...but not now. Paper to write!)

Party Animal

Well, kiddos, I am off for the weekend...having a little gathering to celebrate the upcoming birth of Second Niece.

Apparently First Niece has been banned from the premises for the festivities. Not my choice...I had planned on making her my little helper. But an adult who outranks me deemed it an adults only kinda thing. Hmph.

Mom has already called asking why I haven't left yet. Gotsta go!
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While I'm gone, consider this an open thread...suggested topics include favorite mixed drinks (include recipes), recommended song downloads, and the pros and cons of Glock semi-automatics. I look forward to all two of your comments when I get back.

She Said / She Said

There is nothing I say about my mom here that I won't (or don't) say to my mom herself.

She just got back from vacation, and we were on the phone. She asked how my sister was, since I had talked to her recently but Mom hasn't since before she left...

Me: She told me about her car accident that no one bothered to tell me about.

Mom: Oh. Well...

Me: She said, 'Did you hear about my car accident?' And I said, 'No, I just hear about how fat you are.'

Mom: (laughing/outraged) I don't say she's fat!

Me: (laughing) You do, too...you always tell me how huge she is and how she's going to have a 50 pound baby.

Mom: You need to stop picking on that girl.

Me: (laughing) Me? You're the one saying she's fat!

Mom: (laughing) But you're not supposed to repeat it. Especially to some poor hormonal, pregnant woman.

Me: I told her hearing how fat she is, is a nice change from hearing how fat I am.

Mom: I never tell you you're fat!

Me: (incredulous) Okay, Mom!

Mom: I never say that!

Me: Maybe you don't notice it, but I'll be sure to point it out when you do it while I visit this weekend.

Mom: I am hanging up this phone.

Me: (laughing) Oh, come on.

She didn't hang up on me, btw. We talked for another half hour.

Fatty Fat Fatso

So, also in the conversation with my sister (who is 7 months pregnant):

Sis: So did you hear about my car accident?

Me: No, all I ever hear about is how fat you are.

Sis: (laughing) Thanks, Mom.

Me: Hey, it's a nice change of pace from hearing about how fat I am.

Sis: (laughing)

Me: It's like, 'Let's talk about how fat you are, Mom.'

Sis: (not laughing anymore) No kidding.

Me: Okay, got that out of the way. Tell me about your accident.*

My mom is seriously preoccupied with weight, as I believe I have mentioned before. She was 95 pounds when she graduated high school, and 105 pounds when I was born. I always want to say, "Yeah, well, you weigh more than twice that now, so nobody cares."

Plus she obviously did not gain enough weight when pregnant with me, but we won't get into that.

I have a cousin who is naturally very thin...her mother is naturally very thin...it's not anorexia or any real diet-and-exercise regimen. They're just bony little people. Anywho, this cousin who normally might break the 100-pound mark after a big meal was pregnant and the matron of honor at her sister's wedding 2 weeks before giving birth. The seamstress did some weirdness with the dress to let it out in front, and gathered it below the butt in back.

So my mom says to this 8+ month pregnant girl, who already felt like a blimp and self-conscious enough in the nightmare dress (and who actually looked completely gorgeous)..."Did they try to distract from your stomach by making your butt look huge?"

The look on my cousin's face would have been priceless if I hated her. But she's one of my favorites, so I was just horrified. Another cousin quickly jumped in and said how beautiful she was. But Mom just doesn't think about how people will take her remarks like that. Sure, the cousin obviously did not have a big butt, but maybe in her hormone-addled and larger-than-normal state, she felt like her butt really was huge.

The moral of the story is, even pregnant girls don't get a pass from the fat filter through which my mom views the world.

Also, the next time I hear the details about some insane Beyonce maple syrup diet or similar, I am just leaving the house. Walking out of the house of crazy and returning to my quiet sanctuary where I eat sensibly and exercise daily and have low cholesterol and excellent blood pressure and don't ruin my health with fad diets so I can look like Keira Knightley.

* She's fine, but some lady rammed her driver's side making a left turn on a red light. A military guy witnessed it and freaked out a little when he saw it was a pregnant lady who got hit.

Parental Relations

I occasionally tell the story about my first word. It was "dada"...and it came out one evening after my dad got home from work. I was babbling, "dadadadadada" over and over, and he didn't notice. And I tell this story because I think it pretty much sums up my relationship with my dad.

Now, to use the same thing on the other parent...one night after a family meal (must have been a holiday dinner), my brother, sister, and I were all doing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. My brother made some ridiculous statement (like he does), and I said, "I may have been born at night, but not last night, baby."

My mother overheard this and said, "You weren't born at night. You were born in the afternoon."

And that sums up my relationship with my mom. She doesn't get me.

Feeding the Animals

Made the BLT version for the fam this weekend, and it was a big hit. My nephew loved them, and he had spit out a plain cherry tomato he wanted to try. I made them on Saturday, and he begged me all day Sunday to make more for him.

The recipe doesn't give real amounts...I was able to make about 2 tomatoes per strip of bacon, and I used just enough mayonnaise to moisten the bits up. The advice to cut the bottoms off and stand them on their tops is definitely the way to go.

Lighter Fare

My niece and nephew will be spending the night safe, with no one threatening them or yelling at them. They'll be opening the Christmas presents they didn't get on time, and all is happy in their world for now.

You have never heard more joy than the joy in the little girl's voice that exclaimed, "I'm with my dad!" when I answered the phone.

But the little boy's voice that said, "I'm still your monkey," was pretty good, too. Balm to soothe a worried heart.

I'll sleep better tonight than I have in awhile.
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I am a cyber-stalker par excellence, and I must report on my findings about a 6'6" tattooed truck mechanic (guys who can fix a motor are sexy!) that make me a little sad. He is a 1974 Virgo, and we all know 1974 Virgos are the most awesomest people ever, right? Right.

(I am not mentioning his name because my readers should be able to figure it out from the last week or so of posts...and googlers don't need to.)

Now I'm more distraught that he didn't wait for me...isn't it obvious we were Meant To Be?!

:-p Yes, I do enjoy my own silliness. Immensely.

Pro Bono--UPDATED WITH MORE RANTINESS

Anyone know any members of the Iowa Bar willing to do a little family court action for free or reduced fees?

Custody needs to be revised. It's a good cause.

DHS has an open file on the mother. The daughter has now tried to run away from her and the abusive boyfriend.

Several lawyers have said there's a better than good chance the father could get full custody. But they also want cost-prohibitive retainers up front.

You know, I rant about the Skankasaur a lot...she brings it out in me. And occasionally someone will say, "She can't be that bad." But you know what? She is that bad.

She is completely estranged from every single member of her family. My brother is the only tie between her and her family, because he takes the kids to visit the relatives who give a damn about them. She has four siblings, and none of them have anything to do with her. Her friendships never last more than a few months. She is a user and a completely toxic person.

I hosted her baby shower for my niece, because she had no friends to do it. I got my brother's friends' girlfriends to attend it, and everyone I could think of with some loyalty to my family. So it was a good turnout, but no one there was actually her friend. Her family members who were invited by me--AND WHO LIVE IN TOWN--did not show.

Two years later she had made a friend who lasted long enough to give her a shower for my nephew. I wasn't even invited. Nor was anyone else in my family. And she was married to my brother at the time. And I had decorated their goddamned wedding just a few months previously.

When my brother found her, she was living at the YWCA because all of her family had enough of her. And she was too lazy to work more than a few hours here and there. When she moved in with my brother, he stipulated that she had to get a job. So she got a part-time job at my place of employment (my brother also worked there at the time, different department from me, because I put in a good word with their department head who was my drinking buddy). I predicted she would get knocked up as soon as possible.

And she did. And she immediately quit her part-time, easy-ass job. Aside from her military stint, she has probably not worked more than a total of 100 hours since then. Maybe 200...she worked a couple weeks at a gas station in Missouri. She spent her time in the military trying to get injured so she could be on disability. The sprained shoulder (before she even made it to Basic, lmao)...the broken ankle...they wouldn't give in and discharge her. So she got knocked up. It's what she does. There were three possible candidates for paternity, btw.

Anywho, she has no real connection to anyone but herself and whoever she can use to get what she wants. She'll turn on the tears at the drop of a hat and make people believe she is Mother of the Year or downtrodden at the feet of her evil ex-husband, or whatever else she wants people to believe...but she does not give a single solitary damn for anyone on this planet but herself.

She was in Germany for a year, and got leave over Christmas. She never saw her kids for longer than an 8-hour stretch of time, and threw a complete hissy fit when my brother wouldn't change his New Year's Eve plans to watch them while she went out. It was all HER CHOICE...my brother had wanted her to spend as much time as possible with them for the kids' sake, but she had better things/people to do.

She doesn't do anything for her children out of love. I'm not sure she is even capable of it. I don't know if that's a result of her parents' treatment of her or what, but she never nurtures family. She creates a family. Every new boyfriend she meets is her "fiance" and the kids' new "dad" after twelve minutes. His family becomes the kids' new "grandma", "grandpa", "aunt", "uncle", and "cousin" as soon as they meet.

Meanwhile, she tries to get an aunt they've known all their lives and who she's trusted to babysit overnight even when they were a week old arrested for kidnapping when the aunt takes the kids to see their extended family like they do every summer when they go camping and swimming and ATVing and having fun instead of staying cramped up in an apartment and never let outside. Because she knows the kids love their aunt, and the mother has no capacity for love herself and so she is jealous of her children's affection for anyone else.

I know this because the kids have told me what their mother says. "We can't love you. We love our mom." I've explained to the kids that we all have hearts with room enough to love as many people as we want. There is room in our hearts to love our mom, dad, little brother, mom's boyfriend, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and anyone else we want to love. I've told them it's okay to love whoever we want and miss whoever we want no matter what other people think of that person. If one of our friends doesn't like our other friend, we can still love both friends.

Of course, it is a lie. We don't all have that much room in our hearts. I know one person who doesn't. But it is my sincerest hope that she won't pass on her small, ugly heart to her children. They deserve happier lives than that.

Dictionary Time

con·se·quence n. Something that logically or naturally follows from an action or condition. The relation of a result to its cause. A logical conclusion or inference.

For example, You violated your divorce order when you did not let your ex-husband see his children, and now you have to explain why to a judge. You might go to jail.
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Some people do not understand the concept of consequences. Yet.

The Power of Guilt

Parental guilt can make you do many things. Like have a big family wedding when you didn't want one (my sister). Like participating in college graduation ceremonies when you've spent the last 2+ years saying you weren't going to take the walk (me).

Oh well. They provide love, shelter, and interest-free loans. Walking down an aisle or across a stage is the least we can do, I guess.
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Obviously no one at TMZ understands the whole ATV thing. The last thing you want is for a kid to be strapped onto a vehicle that can potentially roll over. But, yes, he should have been wearing a helmet.

I have taken many rides on the ATV with my niece and nephew, and as long as you stick to tame terrain, there is next to no danger. I always make them wear a helmet, but there is no way I'd bungee-cord them to the thing. (Seatbelts are not exactly standard on an ATV.)

Good Things, Ending, Etc.

Had a nice Christmas, hope all of you did the same.

Got some good gifts. Like this and this and this (good for bonus points to the giver) and Bon Jovi tickets (obviously the best gift ever).

And then I had to come back here to work today, but such is life. Bills to pay and so on and so forth...
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For anyone interested, I deleted the "Summer Reading" list on the sidebar (to your right) and replaced it with "Winter Reading" so you can see what kind of literary fare I am enjoying during my semester break.
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The former s-i-l got a little contempt of court in her stocking. Next to the coal, I presume.

Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Goodnight

This will be my last post until after the presents have been opened...there is a nice winter storm a'headed our way, so I will be trying to beat it to my parents' house. I work this afternoon, and then I will either be leaving tonight or tomorrow morning.

So, I hope all y'all have a nice Christmas.

I look forward to hearing about the former s-i-l's face when my brother shows up to get his kids with a little legal assistance. Note to insane parents in custody battles: "I have my own routine and I don't want you messing it up" is not a valid reason for denying the other parent all contact with his/her children. And lots of policemen have been divorced and know all about your brand of crazy. It's good to have some friends in uniform.

I Am Not a Good Person

Rant with swearing in the extended. Don't click if bad words and evil wishes offend you.

My former sister-in-law (aka the bitch from hell, aka Skankasaurus Rex, aka SuperCunt) is currently living with the only meal ticket she can find: an abusive asshole who physically attacked my brother once and has my niece and nephew scared to death of him. The family court system being what it is, the former s-i-l still somehow has parental rights. They don't care until my niece or nephew gets hospitalized from abuse by the asshole.

Anywho...

The asshole knocked up the bitch, and she was thrilled because she has children in order to keep from having to get a job. The asshole went to jail for one of his many visits with his friends there, and the bitch found out it was twins. Suddenly she wasn't so thrilled, because twins might make her fat. Plus she can never handle one baby, let alone two. So bitch had an abortion.

Bitch told asshole she had a miscarriage. She told her other children that the babies went to heaven because they (other children) were bad.

I am sorely tempted because of recent events involving the need for police presence in order for my brother to even pick up his children, to wait until the kids are with my brother and then make a phone call.

That call would be to the violent asshole, informing him of the truth behind his babies' demise. And then I really think nature would take its course and there'd be no more bitch and no more asshole.

Fantasizing about this makes me a very bad person, and sadly (see? bad person) I will leave it at a fantasy. But the bitch deserves it. Trust me, she really deserves it. And three children--no, the entire world--would be better off.

Sans Relevance

So I have an extra person to buy a Christmas present for this year, as my sister has gotten engaged. As you may or may not have noticed, I work in a place that sells merchandise for my university. Which means everyone in my family has gotten tees, sweats, and the like with my U's name on it for the last couple years. I'm all about convenience to myself. Plus I can grab the good sale stuff.

The following convos occured between my mother and myself:

Me: What size shirt do you think [the fiance] wears? XL?

Mom: I don't know. Maybe a large? He's not that big.

Me: Okay.

(Day passes.)

Me: I hope he wears a large, because I bought him a $15 hooded sweatshirt we had on special. The XL looked too big.

Mom: Sounds good. Is he a [my university] fan?

Me: Who cares? Everyone gets [my university] crap, you know that.

Convenient and cheap. The perfect gift for someone I'm not related to yet. Duh.

Money Makes It All Better

Got a nice little check from my Grandma. Yay, grandmas! Yay, being 33 and having your Grandma give you money! I feel like Paris Hilton or something. Mooching off the work of past generations.

Anyway, I know they say money can't buy happiness, but I'm feeling pretty happy right now that I got some money.

Unsettled

My dad's brother died. He's the first of my parents' siblings to pass away. He's also the one just older than my dad. He looked a lot like my dad, too, in earlier years.

He suffered from early-onset Alzheimer's, and I've known his death was going to be fairly soon. It's still very upsetting, though, for mostly selfish reasons.

I May Not Have Much...

...but at least I have food.

Got a phone call from my niece, who is at my brother's house on a weeknight.

Me: Why are you at your dad's?

Her: Because my mom doesn't have any food.

But I guarantee she has cigarettes.

It's nice that two of her three children have a strong safety net, but God help the one who only has her.
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Anyway, I should remark on the title...I actually have quite a lot, but like most Americans, I think I could use more.

Justice Prevails

Some looney-tune, and I won't name any names here, went to the police station to try to get someone else charged with kidnapping.

Apparently the cops had a good laugh over that one. They also informed said looney-tune that there was no way to keep someone from taking a couple kids out of the state to go camping, since their father gave permission and will actually be with them. He does get six weeks of custody in the summer, after all.

God would do a lot of people (including two little kids, in my honest opinion) a giant favor by smiting a looney-tune or two. Or maybe she can just go for some more motorcycle rides. Natural selection and all that.
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The kids get to play outside all they want, and they haven't been spanked in at least a week. They get fed regularly with reasonably nutritious food, bathed every night, dressed in clean clothes every morning, and put to bed at the same time every evening. For some reason, they haven't even asked to call one of their parents on the phone the whole time they've been here. I'll let you guess which parent.

Exhaustion

So I am working on moving my sh*t from one place to another, and now I am babysitting two little kids besides. The reason for the latter is that their mother is dumb enough to get on a motorcycle with a drunk. Road rash is a bitch, and so is she.

So now Miss Congeniality has found out I have her kids and has her panties in a wad that her ex can actually, you know, go to work instead of babysitting his children while she wallows around in self-inflicted agony.

By the time you read this, I may have been arrested for kidnapping. She threatened my brother with that bullsh*t, but didn't mention it when she called me. Because she knows I don't cave to her threats. Bring it on, you f*cking c*nt.

It is extremely tiring not to talk badly about her in front of her children, but I really do try. She puts them in horrible situations, spreading her legs for anyone who will pay her rent for the month and not caring if they're, say, a violent offender who beat someone in front of her son or has felony theft and felony arson convictions. His rap sheet is truly a site to behold.

I blame my brother for this sh*t, because he doesn't go to the court and get a protective order against the current "fiance". He caves into her threats and manipulations, believing she'll take his kids away. I understand that, but after the beating in front of his son, he should have marched his *ss to the nearest judge for a protective order.

*ssholes, all of them.

Food Coma: The Day After

I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving, full of food and family. I did a good deal of work on the meal and was therefore excused from doing dishes, so it was a good day as far as I'm concerned. ;-)

We ate early (2ish) because the niece and nephew were supposed to be going with their mom for dinner. She was going to pick them up at 5 p.m. They were still at my parents' house when I left it at 10:30 this morning. She's awesome.

This morning I had to run to a couple stores for my mother. Nothing like Kohl's in the wee hours of the Friday morning after Thanksgiving. I did bypass the 2-hour checkout line, however. If you buy jewelry, you can check out there. Hell, yes, I'll buy some jewelry to cut the wait to 15 minutes. I'm glad not everyone caught onto that loophole.

I was back at my parents' house by 7 a.m., and went back to bed for a couple hours. Now I am back in the I.C. and getting mentally prepared to work in half an hour.

Bleh, work.

Army Quality Increasing

The former s-i-l was finally booted from the military. One can only hope the discharge was dishonorable. I'd hate to think that someone who enlists and then spends her time trying to get injured so she can collect disability for the rest of her life would be rewarded with veterans benefits. Plus she's "engaged" to half the guys at the German base, which won't be good for morale when they either find out about it or she actually marries one of them. The girl is a cancer.

I will never as long as I live be able to figure out the attraction to her. She is not pretty or even cute, and she is a colossal bitch. She can't even change a diaper without whining that the guy isn't doing enough to help her, so it's not like she has some mad maternal skillz of any sort. She doesn't know how to turn on a vacuum or use a dustrag. She won't work. Her only attribute is that she is thin. That's her pride, too, that a week after giving birth she can fit into her pre-maternity clothes. Which means her children are underweight, by the way, but at least she isn't fat.

The funniest thing I ever heard in my life was when she said she was a strong woman.

Strong women don't need to produce children to get an income (child support). Strong women work and take care of themselves and their children. Strong women don't threaten to take men's children away when they don't get their own way about every petty bullshit issue. Strong women don't pawn their children off at every opportunity. Strong women aren't visited by social workers every week because they don't know how to be a mother. Strong women don't get engaged to random bozos who haven't even met their kids yet. Strong women aren't selfish little bitches who don't care who they have to hurt as long as they themselves and they alone get what they want. Strong women don't file for every possible public assistance dime they can get instead of getting a job. Strong women actually do something besides spread their legs. Because strong women don't need a constant stream of men to take care of them.

So good for you, Army, unloading the dead weight.

Kickball Champion!

It's not a bad time, playing kickball and teaching kids to do the same...and kicking it up on the roof a few times just for the heck of it. Reliving the childhood moments, as it were, but being an adult and knowing you won't actually get in trouble for kicking it up there. Plus little kids are impressed when you can kick a ball onto a 2nd story roof. I'm all about the show, man.

My nephew can now stop a ball with his foot, dribble it with his feet, and control the placement of his kick. It's important to know these skills, and if I have to be the one to teach them, so be it. Game on.

Save Spork

(This is categorized as "Family Matters" because Munuvians are one, big, hard-to-keep-track-of family.)

Sporky needs our assistance. He was let go from his job a few months ago, and although he is working again, he is still playing catch up. Most of us have been there, struggling to keep our heads above water. So throw him a line in the form of a few dollars.

UPDATE: Looks like he reached his goal. If any of my readers helped him out, I'd like to include my thanks with his.

Freedom

The male sibling has been released. He has to do rehab and probably pay some fines and whatnot. I don't know if he has a place to live, so I'll be keeping my door locked.

I Love My Mom

Just so we're all clear, I do love my mother, and I do actually get along with her really well. We do things together and all that. But like most mothers, she can drive me crazy. That's what mothers do. Mine, anyway. She's one of the closest people to me, and every little disapproval or comment or whatever is magnified by my perception because I only want both my parents to love me unconditionally.

What she wants is for me to be happy and securely ensconced in a marriage with someone of the means to take care of me. If it's someone with the means to outdo her rich sister who married very well, all the better. From her perspective, thin equals beauty equals snagging a good man.

Almost Perfect

Well, that was fun.

My mom has hit upon a solution to the problem with my brother. We give him up as a wash, and if his drug rehab takes and he becomes a productive and responsible member of society, we'll be pleasantly surprised. But we assume that won't happen.

Step two, we make her first child into a perfect testimony to her mad parenting skillz.

This will be accomplished by:
a.) Her eldest daughter wearing a size 2.
b.) Her eldest daughter getting married and having children.
c.) Her eldest daughter getting a Ph.D. so that after telling people about the son, she can say, "But my daughter has a doctorate in history and is a professor at (insert any college name here)."

My self-esteem is pretty battered right now. Par for the course after visiting the folks, really. But now the pressure to make up for the white trashiness of my brother has increased dramatically.

Maternal Resolve Crumbling

We are now entering Week Two of White Trash Brother: Incarceration v.5.0. I can feel my mother starting to cave in about the bail. Not based on anything specific that she's said, but I know her and I know her behavior. She is depressed. She is dwelling but not talking about it.

She is not answering my damned e-mails. This is the woman who whines and carries on if I don't e-mail her, and now I'm getting crap short-answer responses to my e-mail, if any response at all. The latest? "Will talk tomorrow."

I wasn't even e-mailing about the brother. I was e-mailing about my history writing/getting published/good for the resume thing. And the response? "Will talk tomorrow."

Bleh. I am so excited to visit them tomorrow night. Stupid family. Stupid drama.

Jail is Fun

It must be. My brother seems to like it. Good thing, too, because everyone is finally letting him stay there instead of bailing him out.

He's an addict, but not to hear him tell it. See, The Man is just trying to keep him down, man. Or something similar.

Cops are picking on him. He just likes to have a little fun. His documented fun that I know of includes driving while intoxicated 3 times, marijuana one time, and meth one time. It's all just bad luck that he gets picked up...because total geniuses keep a joint in their vehicle ashtray while driving intoxicated in a small town with no traffic and a cop with nothing to do. Three nights after your last DUI arrest.

Total geniuses drive around without a license, get picked up for driving without a license, then continue driving without a license and without a seatbelt with meth and a pipe in their vehicle. In a smallish town where the cops tend to remember you...and remember arresting the driver of that crap truck two weeks ago for driving without a license.

Total geniuses never think, hey, maybe the whole world isn't against me and maybe all these alcohol and drug arrests mean I have a problem.

Total geniuses think their drunk-ass uncle who starts drinking at 8 am to control the shakes is totally cool...instead of really sad.

My brother, the total genius, is ruining the tattered remains of his life and there isn't anything anyone can do to stop him. Except maybe leave him in jail long enough for him to realize he has a problem. Eventually he's got to find a judge who goes with that.

Preferrably before he kills anyone--or himself.

Happy Yesterday

I hope you fathers had a happy Father's Day. My dad did, for the most part.

I made breakfast--ham and cheese omelette per his request. And I made most of dinner--including my first ever baked potatoes. I'm almost embarassed to admit that. But I'm not a big baked potato fan. I prefer mine mashed.

So I broke out the Betty Crocker cookbook, and went with the 350 degree oven for 90 minutes. I washed them, stabbed them with a fork, wrapped them loosely in foil, and stuck them in the oven. I debated about rubbing them down with butter, but didn't. And want to hear something weird? They were the best baked potatoes I ever had. They were cooked all the way through and soft like I like them (remember the mashed). I didn't even do anything to them. So clearly I was prejudiced for my own cooking. It's the only explanation.

We took the boat out for a little while, and that was good. The water hasn't quite warmed up in the lake yet, though.

Not such a bad day.

Neverending

Thinking about camping has reminded me of something that I guarantee will happen at some point while I'm in Wisconsin in July. Guarantee.

At some point, there will be some of us sitting around the campfire. Let's say there will be 8 of us. And it will be quiet for a moment. Then one of the guys will say, "Eight men sitting around a campfire."

Which will prompt me to say "Oh, Lord" and roll my eyes.

Which will not keep the speaker from finishing, "On a dark and stormy night. One of the men said, 'Cap'n, tell us a story.' And this is the story he told."

Everyone will laugh or shake their heads at this point. There will be another moment of quiet.

Then the person sitting next to the original speaker will say, "Eight men sitting around a campfire on a dark and stormy night. One of the men said, 'Cap'n, tell us a story. And this is the story he told."

Then the person sitting next to him or her will say, "Eight men sitting around a campfire on a dark and stormy night. One of the men said, 'Cap'n, tell us a story. And this is the story he told."

And so on.

Guarantee it.

Parenting Style

I'm going to tell you how I was able to date a guy who was in college when I was a freshman and sophomore in high school. Not how I was able to land a guy in college who wasn't creepy or socially retarded. How I was physically able to leave my house with my parents in it to date a guy in college.

My parents weren't what you would call terribly "involved." My mom worked nights as a nurse, so she slept during the day. My dad watched a lot of TV. My grades were always good, so I could pretty much come and go at will.

My parents never set foot on my college campus until the day they helped me move into my freshman dorm room. And once I was moved in, they left. They've never been inside a campus building other than my dorm.* They never set foot on campus again unless it was to pick me up or drop me off. I selected the college, toured the campus, went through orientation, etc, etc, etc, all by myself. I had to learn how to drive a stick shift so I could drive my dad's car to the orientation, because my parents were going on vacation.

I could have been drinking and doing drugs and all that kind of stuff all through high school, but I never did. That was my choice. My sister, on the other hand, went crazy as early as junior high. My dad had to go get her in the middle of the night once because she was passed out on the sidewalk in front of her friend's house. She ran away all the time and the police were familiar with her. My brother moved out when he turned 18 (he was still in high school) to get away from their "rules." I'm not sure what rules he thought were so terrible to stick to. I guess the curfew, but that was easy enough to dodge. One parent was at work at night and the other slept like the dead. Or maybe it was the hassle over his grades. He was grounded for 1987. Anyway, the police are familiar with my brother now, too. And he has since moved back into my parents' house.

As for me? The police are familiar with me, because I seem to end up dating most of them. I did become sexually active at a fairly young age, but I wasn't pressured into it by the older boyfriend. He was responsible and respectful. And I'm not a slut now, jumping into bed with every other guy I meet. I am safely in the single digits, and don't expect to reach double digits unless I never marry. A girl has needs.

The moral of the story: ignore your kids, and one of them won't give you much trouble. Another one will probably grow out of her self-destructive stage eventually. And the third will introduce you to the fun and exciting world of the court system.

* Unless you count the University Hospital, and I don't.

#$^&(*(%##%&*&!

Dear Roommate,

Please stop eating my @#$%ing Granola bars like they're popcorn. I get enough for a week, and you're throwing it all off by eating them in the first day and not replacing them. I'm happy to share, but you're not "getting" the replacement part. This is why I hide the really good snacks in my room.

Love,
Me

P.S. If you're going to clear out my internet browser's history after searching for "bisexual porn", you need to not make it obvious you're hiding something. Because I know more about computers than you do, and will find what you did. Perv. ;-)

Heaven and Hell

Daytona 500: Bon Jovi. Troy Aikman. Kurt Busch and Jeff Gordon crashing. It's like my own personal heaven. Throw in a win for Junior (he didn't), and it'd be sublimely perfect.

Went to see the parents, because what's Speedweek without my dad and I making fun of "poor Jeffy" and whoever else? Plus they had an anniversary during the school week, so I had to go say hello. And my former sister-in-law has returned.
_____

She got back on Wednesday night after being gone for 2 years, and yet I spent more time with her kids this weekend than she did. Go figure. Mother of the Year material, let me tell you.

My nephew kept asking if he could come home with me. Said he didn't want to live with his mom or dad. He breaks my heart. Smart, cute as all heck, and totally screwed in the parental lottery.

Mother of the Year will have another kid to ruin soon enough. Forced sterilization? Not such a bad idea...

Broader Horizons

Some people broaden your horizons, expose you to new things, and push you outside your safety zone. It's good to experience different sides of life.

Take my brother, for example. Without him, my mother would have gone her whole life without meeting a bail bondsman or having a nervous breakdown when forced to deal with the whole "bailing-my-son-out-of-jail" situation. I would have gone my whole life without witnessing such a maternal breakdown and being the one who actually was then put in charge of the whole "bailing-my-brother-out-of-jail" situation.

Without my brother, our whole family could have gone our whole lives without meeting a single soul from the Dept of Human Services.

...or an alleged meth manufacturer and dealer.

...or the toothless wonders on his former wife's side of the family.

...I could go on. But I'm starting to feel white trashtastic.
_____

In happier news, my books cost $467 this semester. I did better than last semester, despite two of my books this term costing ridiculous amounts. I lucked out on the rest of them. Yay, me!

Making My List...

Not for presents, mind you. I'm all done with that.

My packing list. Because I'm off tomorrow for a wonderfully relaxing, quiet, peaceful time at my parents' home. Actually, the exact opposite of that. And I will be there for 4 nights. Which means I need things like my phone charger. And my computer (although I always bring that if it's a 24-hour or more trip anyway). And I'll need my camera. And the camera charger. And a clock. And my pillow. Maybe even my second pillow. But I'm trying not to get carried away.

I did buy one last gift today...a coffee mug for my dad. It's about the last thing in the world that he needs. However. I mentioned the Bowl Game glassware for the upcoming bowl game between my university and some crap southern university, and Dad asked if I brought him a coffee mug. I said no, and asked if he actually wanted one. He said only if it had [insert name of conference rival university here] on it. So the wiseass is getting stuck with a coffee mug now.

Yay, holidays! If I have time between baking cookies like there's no tomorrow and doing the presents/family thing, I may blog. Otherwise, have a Merry Christmas, all!

Conversation

Nephew (wielding 4 markers strung together to make a "sword"): "I'm Opie Wan!"*

Niece: "I am your father."

Nephew: "You're not my father!"

* Some strange love-child of Alec Guiness and Ron Howard?

Earning My Keep

Since arriving at my parents' house last evening, I've been put to work.

First, I had to do the outline of a Santa Claus on a piece of plywood. Dad will cut it out tonight, and then I will get to paint it. (It will be added to their sleigh, reindeer, and elves in the front yard.)

Second, I have made a shadow box display for my Dad's hole-in-one golfball and scorecard from this summer. He saw one at the local golf store for $60, but decided I could make him one for Christmas. It's all done, except for mounting the card and sticking the ball in its spot...roughly 5 minutes of work left.

And thirdly, I've had to clean because they're having company this weekend. An aunt and uncle will be in town, so I've had to clean the guest bedroom a little bit. It's the room I'm using, so I guess I don't qualify as a guest worth cleaning for. ;-) (I'll be heading back home Thursday night, so it's not like I'm getting thrown out.)

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Insomnia

I can't sleep, but my Christmas shopping is done.*

Well...for my family, anyway. I suppose I should consider presents for some of my friends. Hmm.

So what do y'all want for Christmas?

* Lets's try more unrelated sentences...

I have trouble keeping the straps of this camisole up, but I'm wearing pajama pants with cherries on them.

My roommate doesn't know how to do any housework, but this tea is delicious.

I thought I was alert enough to make this into a funny bit, but the wonderful thing about Tiggers is that Tiggers are wonderful things.

You try. I'm sure you'll do better.

Weekend Plans

It will be a family-centric weekend, to be sure. I work this afternoon, and will then await the arrival of my guests. The apartment is clean, and all found Asian beetles (ladybug-looking things that are prevalent in this part of the country) have been destroyed. (Did you know they bite? I am told they do, even though I always thought they were harmless and would catch and release them like I do with ladybugs and fireflies...and box elder bugs, if I feel generous.)

Tomorrow I shall give the grand tour of campus, including the museum of natural history and the two buildings that house my departments (one of which is the same as the museum, of course). Perhaps a bus ride will be in order to give it real authenticity.

Sunday will conclude the visit early, as I need to work at noon, but all in all I expect a delightful time will be had by everyone.