Thread the Needle


“You’re doing the right thing.” the words sounded muffled, distant, but he knew what it meant.

The right thing…

She was letting him go. All those months of fighting through the darkness, the struggle to even squeeze her hand had all been for nothing.

She was letting him go.

“I’m sorry.” Her words weren’t quite as far away as the other voice had been, but it took so much concentration to listen and understand.

“I can’t…” A short pause, then, “I miss you but… You’re not coming back to me, and… I have to let you go. “

She didn’t cry, she couldn’t. She’d cried enough and had already gone through all the stages of dealing with his coma, denial being the first one. He’d only be under a few days. He’d come back to her. Days stretched into weeks, denial turned into anger. Weeks slipped into months and she’d begged God and bargained with the Devil. Months had turned into years and bargaining had turned to depression. Text book grief. Now, three years later, she’d kept him too long.

Acceptance. It was the final stage.

“Everyone is different. These stages take longer for some than others. But I think you know its time to accept that the man you married died a long time ago.”

One last time her fingers entwined with his, warm and smooth, alive, so very real, and all he could do was lay there, screaming silently at himself to wake up. He was trapped in a constant cycle of dreams and madness, visions, music, racing thoughts and repeating numbers. Lately the thoughts were nothing but numbers… a steady, unbroken stream of numbers interrupted by the occasional repetitive word, phrase, and even music. It was a twisted carnival ride, a sick carousel of blurred vision and distorted tunes, an amalgamation of every memory and thought he’d ever had, the human brain run amok.

Latitude, longitude, ascension, arcs and degrees. The laws of physics… roller coasters… g-forces….

Silence, then: “Can you thread the needle?

Can you thread the needle?

That voice was a woman, one he knew but was a stranger to him. He and she had talked many times, but he’d never seen her face. He’d never met her, but her voice was comforting, soft, coaxing.

Thread the needle? I don’t understand…

You will. I am certain of it. You’ve done it before, you will do it again.”

Before…

Before he’d been a pilot. A military pilot. He’d flown, he’d killed innocent civilians and enemies alike, he had been an instructor…. And he’d gone down in his plane twice. The last time had left him here, trapped with his memories, his knowledge that his plane had gone down in the suburbs and this time, those who had died were some of the people he’d joined the military to protect. Some were children, some were elderly, others coming home from work, mowing their lawns, planting flowers, cleaning the pool.

Can you thread the needle?

“It’s time to go." His wife's voice. "Time to find out what’s on the other side Michael. I can’t keep you here any longer… and there‘s a child who needs you.”

“Are you ready?” The man’s voice again and he felt the faintest hint of warmth on his forehead. She’d kissed him, then nodded as she looked into the doctor’s face.

“Can I meet him? She’d asked the doctor this question on more than one occasion. The boy was dying, and her husband was an organ donor. A good match is what the doctor had told her. A very good match. Without help from her husband, the child would be dead in a matter of weeks.

“You have to understand, his immune system is weak…“

Just through the glass? Just one look at him? He won’t even know I’ve been there.

Reluctantly, the doctor had agreed, and arrangements had been made. The boy was asleep when she arrived. A nurse with unnaturally green eyes had stood beside her, watching in silence. He was so frail and his skin a deathly shade of graying yellow. Scribbles of stick figures covered the walls and balloons hovered near his bed, tethered by a stuffed puppy. Her eyes drifted from one crayola masterpiece to another, and noted with the eyes of a school teacher that the drawings only showed one parent, a mother. The colors had slowly faded from cheerful brights - greens, blues, and reds, to paler shades and in the final drawing, rain fell from darkened skies as the boy and his mother stood alone, stick figures without umbrellas, sad and cold.

“I’m ready…” She nodded, inhaled a ragged breath and stroked her husband’s hand once more, then his forehead. The man laying in this bed barely resembled her Michael. His muscles had atrophied, his hair had been shaved, hoses, ports, and machines kept him breathing, fed, and alive. His heart was beating, but not on its own.

Now came the last hard decision, to stay and watch the line go flat, hear the heart monitor’s unbroken tone, or leave with the knowledge that he would be dead before she was in her car.

“I… don’t think I can stay.” She quietly answered the unspoken question and without thinking, her fingers and palm slid across her rounded stomach and paused there as the unborn infant kicked and turned, suddenly stirring and reminding her that her life with Michael was over and had been for a long time. The child she carried was not his.

The same nurse who had waited so quietly beside her at the boy’s room met her eyes and nodded.

“But… please.“ Her attention shifted to the doctor, “Let me know… let me know if the transplant is successful?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

As the door closed with a soft click, the doctor and his nurse, as well as a few ‘team members’ were alone.

She was letting him go.

Frantic, he fought for the surface, to break through, to not let the darkness drown him, and in his panic, the racing thoughts returned.

“Come as you are, as you were
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
As an old enemy

Take your time, hurry up
The choice is yours, don't be late
Take a rest as a friend
As an old

Memoria, memoria
Memoria, memoria….”

“Nirvana? What an ironic name for a musical group with such a troubled singer….” The comforting voice had returned.

“Who are you?”

“I am a frightened mother, Michael.” In all their conversations, this was the first time she’d used his name.

“Without you, my child dies.”

“I’m impressed. “ The doctor again, and his voice distracted Michael from the phantom visitor in his head. “You projected an excellent illusion.”

“I had a lot to work with.” It was the nurse’s voice that spoke, and Michael’s foggy mind simply couldn’t make sense of the conversation, but at least the racing thoughts had stopped. Now he had the horror of being unplugged to cope with. He clawed at the darkness that kept him prisoner, screamed and begged for help, but the conversation continued on.

“She’s losing faith that he’ll agree. All I had to do was let her project through me.”

A soft grunt was all the doctor offered in response.

The boy had been an illusion, a mental projection pushed into the soon-to-be widow’s mind. The room in the pediatrics unit was empty, no child lay there dying, not really.

Not there anyway.

Instead, he lay on another world, in another ‘hospital’ so far from here it yet so close, it could not be explained. Not easily.

He hadn’t lied to her, the child would die without Michael, and while the wasting man was a good match, there was no guarantee the child would live, but both the Pilot and the Child had a far better chance together. Without one another, their fates were certain.

“Without you, my child will die, my line will end.

Nirvana again…

“Come as you are… as you were… take your time, hurry up, the choice is yours… don’t be late.”

“Let’s do this.”

Was it his voice, or the voice of the doctor?

Horrified, his panic consumed him. Terrified but unable to stop what was happening, Michael tried to claw free once more, heard the steady beeps of the of the heart monitor slow, and felt the air forced into his lungs stop.

The choice is yours… don’t be late…”

“Can you thread the needle?”

White light exploded around him as his heart began to slow, then it shrank to a single, impossibly small point of light, cold and distant, a single star in an infinite night sky.

The eye of the needle. The path to Heaven?

“Possibly. I wouldn’t know.” It was Her again.

“I don’t know what lies within that System. The choice is yours. That System, or this one…”

No longer was were his thoughts a muddled mess of numbers and music, nonsense words and galloping memories. The twisted carousel he’d been riding for so long came to a lurching stop and for the first time, he could see it. Vivid colors surrounded him and his fingers released the sculpted metal pole he’d been clinging too. Beyond the elaborate carved horses, swans and elephants, was nothing.

Nothing at all… then a darker shape moved in the night. It rippled and flowed, faint light fell upon it, and the Dying Child was revealed.

“That… is your child?“ His bare feet stepped off the swaying platform and onto the void.

The Child sat there, still and quiet. Shaped like a manta ray, but impossibly huge. It was a ship, but alive, sentient, able to travel through the atmosphere of a world, through the dead air of space, or even “thread the needle”… make the jump from one place in time and space to another. It’s ‘skin’ was sleek and black, whorls and patterns were carved into its surface and a soft light of fuzzy blue illuminated the valleys of the carvings and the light pulsed in time with Michael’s steadily slowing heart beat. Its ‘wings’ drooped - the same fear and sorrow that had held Michael a prisoner for so long seemed to fill the air around it, and he knew, somehow, that the Child was just as afraid of having its plug pulled as Michael was.

“The choice is yours.”

A hand, cool and small caught at his own, and Michael looked down, into the tired face of a boy. His curly mop of black hair was damp, his face ashen grey with a hue of sickly yellow. Unnaturally blue eyes met Michael’s own blue eyes. This Child was the boy that had haunted him, the son he had dreamed of having some day, the son he and his wife had waited to have someday.

Someday had ended in flames and wreckage.

“You’re not real….”

The boy shrugged and the effort to merely stand seemed to be draining away his life.

“I’m as real as you are. See? We’re even wearing the same stuff.”

The boy was wearing a hospital gown, the type that tied in the back, same as Michael’s, but the boy’s was covered in a soft, blue pattern of whorls. Like the pattern on the ship. Michael looked up; the Ship was gone. Only he and the boy remained, but in the distance, the pinpoint of light burned steadily.

“Will you help me? Please?” Weak fingers squeezed tighter, “I don’t want to die… not like this.”

~*~

Eternity suddenly stopped with the beating of Michael’s heart. The heart monitor began to drone its steady, flat sound.

The doctor’s eyes met those of the nurse, then he nodded sharply.

“I’m calling it. The choice is his now. Let‘s get him iced down.”

_______________________________

Credits:

Lyrics to Come as You are, by Nirvana - the song that inspired this series.

My thanks to Steph for her editing and enthusiasm, and to Dee for encouraging support.

Thanks again for the support guys.

And more self-assessing today. *sigh* So, as you all may know, Kristyn now has her own Facebook site. So, yesterday she's home after school, and she's chatting with another little girl who initiated the chat. This little girl goes to school with Kristyn and she asked Kristyn: Does So and So ever annoy you?

Kristyn has been raised to be honest and since she's young, at that in between woman and child stage, not only is she honest, but she's inelegant about her honesty.

She told the truth: Yes, sometimes she annoys me when she starts talking to person X and ignores me like I'm not even there.

Little girl then says: Oh well. She's sitting right here.

*headdesk*

M'girl walked right into that one. Thing is, the girl that supposedly does the annoying doesn't strike me as the type to bait someone into talking bad about her. She goes to church with us, is a daughter of an acquaintance and if anything strikes me as reserved, possibly shy and quiet. I've watched her closely because her friendship with Kristyn is new - tentative, she's a year older, and not in Kristyn's grade, so they're really just getting to know one another now that they are both in the same middle school. They have a mutual friend. (not the 'bait' girl, a fourth girl) COnfused yet?

So, Kristyn was upset when I made it home last night. I wanted to intervene, call the girl's (not baiting girl who initiated the chat) mom and ask if she was even AT the house of the "bait" girl. Instead, I gave Kristyn some advice, and recommendations on damage control:

First of all... There are people in this world that deserve to have blunt, almost ugly, things said to them. However, IF YOU WOULD NEVER EVER IN A MILLION YEARS want whatever it is you tell someone else to get back to them, or wouldn't ever say it if that person was standing right THERE, don't say it at all. Its a twist on the If you Can't Say Anything Nice advice. Some people need not so nice things said TO them, so the old adage doesn't really work for me. *G*

Secondly: Its the internet. You don't have to answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Say: BBL... walk away for a while to think about what was asked before answering, and just don't answer if you can't figure out a tactful way to reply after thinking it over... for several minutes, hours, maybe even days. *Can't IMAGINE how I learned that one Looks Innocent*

Thirdly: Learn the correct definition of words. The girl doesn't ANNOY Kristyn - that's Sam's job. When Kristyn gets ignored by a new friend - she feels HURT. Annoyance may be there as well, but the source of the annoyance is from being HURT.

Fourth: I think the girl isn't snooty or ignoring Kristyn on purpose. Kristyn is opinionated, strong willed, stubborn, and annoying in her own way. *those are the in-your-face, off-putting flaws, she has a LOT of wonderful traits too* The other girl seems shy, quiet, reserved. We really think she's not sure how to take Kristyn and may feel nervous around her. This could all be a HUGE miscommunication.

We suggested she pull the girl aside, ask if she was really there, and if so, explain: You don't annoy me, I didn't mean that. But my feelings do get hurt because I feel like when you get with so and so (the fourth girl/mutual friend), you intentionally shut me out. I feel hurt, but not annoyed.

We also suggested that if the girl was NOT there, that Kristyn rat out the bait girl, and add in the above about being hurt, not annoyed. That takes any game playing power out of bait girl's hands.

Regarding bait girl - If the girl WASN'T EVEN THERE... she needs to be told that was a sorry trick and in the future, Kristyn won't be trusting her for a long, long time, if ever again.

Kristyn comes away with a lesson learned and maybe one less friend thanks to treachery, but hopefully a stronger relationship with the girl she's worried about. We can add another dimension here, by the way, b/c Kristyn was also worried the fourth girl/mutual friend would be told that by extension, she ALSO annoys Kristyn.

*sigh*

Ultimately, NOW I AM ANNOYED. You guys I know I hate 'girl' games. This is why I developed a strong distaste for cliques, and even having a lot of 'close' female friends. Unfortunately, I don't trust them. I know that sounds awful, but 'mean girl' games just suck. They're damaging, hateful, and at the end of the day, when everyone grows up and moves on in life, all this drama won't mean jack crap to many of us. They're just games, but the scars can last a lifetime. Now they have a new forum: The internet and ergo, MY LIVING ROOM. It follows a kid home now... *shakes head*

I have changed my daughter's password on Facebook. Her time will be strictly limited from now on - no getting online unless I'm there. My mom was there, but she has NO internet social skills. I know m'girl needs to learn to walk on her own, without my shadowing her or working behind the scenes to smooth over every middle school girl drama, but man it is sooooo hard.

And here's the re-examining part. This is all a result of clique crap. What do I do? Encourage her to blend, or continue being herself even though I know she's not going to be 'clique' worthy - she's far too independent. Logically, I know encouraging her to rely on 'clique' socializing is doing her no favors, especially once she becomes an adult, yet my heart says I don't want her to be alone in school, that outcast with a peculiar book that she keeps her nose in to avoid people. Its a lonely way to grow up, but growing up is exactly what she's doing. Do I teach her to stand alone, or learn to navigate the rough waters of clique friendships? Again, I logically prefer the first option....

There's only so much I can do at this point - she must learn to tread the waters of growing up, and hopefully I can be there with some sort of helpful advice/life preserver when she needs it most.

Or sometime like H1N1. Kristyn has had the flu since Saturday night. 103 temp for 36 hours and counting. If we took her to the doctor, they wouldn't test her for it anyway - they've quit testing unless the symptoms are severe just because the symptoms of H1N1 are just like any other type of flu. They'd have to test everyone with a fever and snotty nose. This is round 2 in our house - I had it, Sam had it two weeks ago. My mom had it last week and was almost hospitalized, and now Kristyn has it. I'm home today, can't risk mom getting sick again. Kel will be home with her tomorrow if necessary.

Sorry for the mental breakdown yesterday, I just... keep wondering if I should just say frack it and let my self get 'old'. Quit wearing shredded jeans and knock off Ed Hardy t-shirts and Doc Martens on the weekends, quit trying to wear bikinis, start wearing gaucho pants instead of denim shorts in the summer. *shakes head* Again, who am I fooling? Is it a mid-life crises? Why do I feel like every high school boy that wants to 'race' one of my cars deserves to be burned to the ground and left in the dust? The morons. Its like my red car is now a moving target for every kid with a half-ass hopped up truck or car. Its ridiculous, really. I feel like a fat old woman, trying to be young again.

Or is 30 really the new 20 and so on and so forth? Because if that's true, I'm fine.

Maybe its just sleep deprivation? Think I'm about to crawl back in bed....

But on a bright note! HEY! Pomegranates are back in season! LOL

Sometimes, I just don't know what to say. I used to think my worst fear was finding out something happened to my husband or one of my kids, something fatal. But now I'm thinking that isn't it.

I'm afraid that I'll be put to the test and find out that all my talk about not seeing color (race), religion, orientation, any of that... I dunno how to explain it... that the core of who I think I am and what I stand for will be challenged and I'll find out just how gutless and shallow I really am.

I let some people down yesterday - was asked to help some girls out in Oklahoma City, they needed a car for a parade, wanted me to help out.

I gave them my word. And I'll be damned if I didn't get the date wrong and didn't show up last night. I just don't have the words to express how awful I feel. I feel like such a loser, and I question everything about myself today.

I guess its a day to re-evaluate who I am. Who I wish I was. Decide what I want to do with myself. I wish again I was one of those women with the pretty nails, never leaves the house w/out make up, never uses bad language or says something stupid or insensitive. I wish I didn't have scrapes on my arms and dirty nails, torn off from messing with cars; hands with calluses and blisters from working in the yard, wish I could keep the laundry done, home cooked food on the table, and still be wonder woman, clean and beautiful, full of graceful manners.

I mean, who do I think I am? Its not like my thing for cars is new - I've always, always tinkered with what I drove until I got married, had kids... and now that they're up big enough and I have a couple of cars that are fun to play with, here I go again. Back into them. Sat right here with my dad this morning talking about blown S197 Mustangs, 1/8th mile strip times, and Romeo engines. I love talking cars with him, with my husband, and teaching my daughter what an air intake on a car does, and how to check the oil. I want her to know the difference between a fuel rail and a fuel injector.

But what the HELL am I doing? Y'know? Why am I doing this? Who even gives a crap? And if I try to force myself into the OTHER mode, that pretty girly girl mold, then I'm REALLY a fake, a pretender. Maybe I'm so much a fake I don't even know who I am, huh?

Man I wish I hadn't screwed up yesterday. I gave MY WORD to someone, and then broke it. Sure, I got to spend the day with a real life friend, someone to reconnect with, but also let an entire group of complete strangers down, and to some extent, my kids - they were looking forward to participating.

Now my daughter has the flu, has all the symptoms of H1N1 and I'm exhausted. Upset. Wish I could do something right today.

Like Mal from Serenity, I'm a huge fan of Wrath.

I've mentioned Kristyn's habit of contriving questions lately, then nagging me for answers I either don't have or don't exist. Let me give you guys a case in point:

I was watching NCIS on the tube the other night. Its like CSI in many ways mixed with Law and Order, but with a U.S. Navy slant. It's not overly graphic with blood and bodies and the language is adult yet mild. I feel Kristyn can handle this show.

I'm a huge Wikipedia fan too, so out of curiosity, I wanted to find out the name of the actor who portrays Ari, an Israeli Moussad agent. In my poking around, there's a listing for characters, brief bios, who's slept with who, etc. I said, OOOOOOhhhhh. He is Ziva David's half brother. Thaaatttt makes sense.

Kristyn says, How? In real life? Really?

No. On the show honey. They're not related in real life.

But you just said he's her half brother.

Yes. On. the. show. They're actors that are acting like relatives. No kin at all in the real world. They're just actors.

But how are they related?

Half brother and sister... on the show. That means they have either the same dad or mom.

I know that, but how are they related?

Kristyn? What the crap are you asking me? I've answered this. Multiple times. The answer isn't going to change.

She asks a few more times, I refuse to respond.

Then we get into a discussion about the people they're portraying - as if its a based on true life account. More Who's on First Type conversation.

Then they're talking about a corpse on the show and she says something that suggests she thinks the actress like... died on the set for the role of the slain.

I said, Uhm? You know that isn't a real cadaver, or maybe her, just laying there with make up on to look dead?

She said, But... she's dead. On the show.

Yes. On the show.

So, she's dead dead?

No. On the show she's dead. She's not really dead though

But how did she die?

You've seen as much of this episode as I have...

I know, but... so. She's dead in real life then.

Here is where I lose it.

FOR GODS SAKES NO! She's NOT REALLY DEAD, SHE'S PRETENDING. ZIVA AND ARI AREN'T REALLY NAMED ZIVA AND ARI! THERE IS NO REAL ZIVA AND ARI. THEY ARE NOT RELATED IN ANY WAY IN REAL LIFE! THE ANSWERS ARE NOT GOING TO CHANGE, NO MATTER HOW OFTEN OR IN WHAT WAY YOU ASK ME! If you can't tell the difference between fact or fiction, I will not let you watch T.V. anymore....

To which she gets defensive, swears she just... wanted to know the answers... acts all hurt and innocent. A martyr.

I feel like she's making this crap up just to wind me up. That's the most recent example, but I get a lot of weird questions... I feel like I'm dealing with some of our BW writers that just don't grok a mythos? And start asking insane questions that no one thought to address because no one thought anyone would ever ask anything so ridiculous.

Sorry for the rant yesterday. I know a lot of eyes must have just glazed right over. LOL But I know I'm not the only one out there that feels that way, and I appreciate everyone's support.

Feeling a little better, and after a series of emails over the past few days, rationality has returned to myself and Kel. Now we're in the process of taking the identified problems and emailing remedies back and forth to one another. I know that sounds impersonal, but those of you who have dealt with me at Bardic Web know over the years I had to learn how to not explode in an email and rise to someone's bait. Things were pear-shaped for a few emails, but we're fine now. Reasonable, rational, logical. We have talked face to face about the problems, but only briefly. It seems I keep on point better when things are in writing, and I have time to put it in draft form, walk away, think about it, reread it, edit, and send. The problems between he and I are most definitely fixable, but there is one problem that has us beating our heads on our desks... and any other hard object.

One of the problems is how our kids behave. Kristyn is at the age where she intentionally starts pissing matches and she is excellent at it. There is no way to END a pissing match, simply not replying leads to more digging and nagging by her. She absolutely has a snarky comment for everything, and refuses to let a topic drop, and must get in the last word. Eventually, I'm ready to smack her in the mouth. I have thus far not done so. I've even tried AGREEING with her about various things, and that doesn't work either. *headdesk*

Then there's Sam. I feel like I take Circus Monkeys to the grocery stores with me. He likes to touch everything at eye level with him, and he acts like I've let him drink loads of sugary, caffeinated drinks.... people start to look, I start to bark orders, he fights me, grabs at stuff on shelves, I end up paddling his hiney with my palm, he calms down, acts normal... for five minutes, then its a repeat. Meanwhile, Kristyn is grabbing up stuff, buy buy buy! Please please please! I NEEEDDD MORE MECHANICAL PENCILS for schooool! *does not. We have a box of perfectly good No. 2's at home* I say no. Firmly. *we're on a tight budget. I have no money for silly things. I barely have enough for basics - UNLESS we sit our butts at home for vacation and don't try to save money* Anyway, I tell her No. With no hint of hope, and its dig dig dig, nag nag nag. I tell her to put it up, she throws a whining fit. It was SO bad at Wal Mart Friday that I told her to hit the street and walk home. This horrified many fellow shoppers, but we live on the same street, two doors West of Wal Mart. That is our neighborhood.

I don't know what gives with the nagging. I do. not. cave and let her have her way. If anything, I go the opposite direction and dig in. Its a battle of wills that I refuse to lose, and she's the same way. Anyone with suggestions on how to break this loggerhead without physical violence? Any suggestions on how to get my son to not act like a damn circus animal in public? Clearly, my 'way' isn't working. I'm almost to the preemptive strike phase. The Iron Curtain is about to fall on my household and the Wooden Spoon of Power is about to be utilized to its full effect. I've tried grounding, taking away prized possessions, having nights with no T.v., just reading and 'quiet' games like chess, I don't cave and go back on what I tell them, I don't give up and let them have their way, but nothing is working. I'm tempted to just not take them anywhere, but then I'm afraid they'll never learn to act civilized in public... and I promise, my expectations of 'civilized' are not REAL high. I'd be happy if Kristyn would just hang out in the car and listen to her mp3 player, but she refuses.

Things are so bad I now wear my TMJ splint again - my jaw is starting to lock again this week and... it hurts... but that's just how much I find myself gritting my teeth and clamping my jaws in my WAKING hours - let alone in my sleep.

I'm just... overwhelmed. Tired of keeping too many balls in the air, tired of being the primary house keeper, chef, laundress, toilet scrubber, floor mopper, event organizer, tutor, etc. Tired of F*(#^^@)% divorce people, as my boss calls them. Sick of emotional vampires that don't even know me, they suck. the. life. out of me at the office, then act surprised when I refuse to let them talk to me like I'm Dr. Phil. I. Don't. Care. if your wife is sending naughty texts to her boyfriend in Texas. I. Don't. Care. if your ex husband is accusing you of letting your kid miss too much school... and on and on and on.

I killed myself trying to get the house deep cleaned this weekend, and not one person would lift a finger to help me clear the dinner table last night. Y'know what? The plates - which are paper, btw, are still there. I'm not doing it. Kiss my arse. The rest of the house looks like gypsies invaded. I refuse to walk around cleaning every night after I've worked a full 8 or 9 hours.

I'm sick of trying to save a third or more of my weekly check to pay for a nice vacation and then to have my husband bitch and whinge about hating the beach - let's not forget he plays golf with his friends 80% of the time while I play lifeguard to two children for my part. And cook the meals. I don't expect him right there on the beach, so that's not the problem. Go Golf. Go fishing. Enjoy! Really. Just don't go on the trip, talk about how nice it is while your there, then get home and a few months later make me look like a vacation-nazi for not wanting to DRIVE TO FRICKIN WYOMING TO SEE YELLOWSTONE PARK or go to Colorado to see the Rockies. I want to go... But I refuse to make a 20 hour drive to Yellowstone. I will fly, rent a car, and have fun.

I. will. not. drive it. Not with our two kids in the back seat. The drive to Florida was bad enough and only the dual screen dvd player, gameboys and game system that came with the dvd player saved us.

Let's not forget our kids are not going to give a flying rip about Yellowstone. I can hear them now, This is it? Really?. They're not old enough yet to get the whole majestic scenery thing yet. All I've asked is that we give it a few years until their old enough to appreciate the trip. Right now, if there's not a flying whale, some dolphins, and a lot of water and swimming pools, they. don't. care.

I have made the offer... and was given the standard martyr response. Nooo, no. I'llll just go with my friends on an antelope hunt. *sniffle* Forget it. My opinion doesn't count.

Let's not forget he had the opportunity LAST year to change the plans to Yellowstone, and refused.

Let us not forget I tried to get him to go to Vail or Steamboat Springs Colorado on Spring Break this year (that before we were expecting company) and he refused. Again, the whole martyr thing and I couldn't possibly save enough money were his excuses. He didn't even want to try.

NEVERMIND that I'm trying to pad the savings account heavily enough that I can send him on his all-guys antelope hunt with an extra $1,000.00 as an anniversary gift.

SOOOO? STFU! is about to be my next answer to his whinging.

I don't even mind him whinging some? But he went on and on and on in front of some of our closest friends Sunday evening and made me sound like a real ass about vacation. Frankly, my feelings were hurt and I was embarrassed.

So that was yesterday's email battle, me offering to change the plans, but gently refusing to babysit the entire time. I'll go, but I AM NOT PAYING FOR all of it. I'll pay 15%, which is about what he paid for Florida. I'll go, but I AM NOT DRIVING. (not without medication) I'll go, but I'm spa-ing while there, not babysitting 80% of the time while he goes off with friends to do his thing.

Things started out nice and then went all pear shaped.

Then by the time I went home, my boss, apparently pissed off at matters that are beyond my control, absolutely beyond my ability to do anything about, ragged on me. I get home, my kids are ragging on me, nagging for me to cook dinner (Y'know? I'm not putting a steak on the grill when the baked taters lack an HOUR to cook. I can't make that process go any faster!) The house is trashed again, and it took less than two hours, and then I get chewed on by cell phone on my way to work today by hubby because Sam mislaid his homework folder. Never mind that I was already gone, on my work and he was the one that had to get the kids organized and out the door for school.

What really did it for me was Kel telling me he called Sam's teacher, just to check and make sure he wasn't fibbing about not having homework some last week, and she told him Sam has zero Reading Counts points (its a program to encourage reading and he's not caring). Kel says:

She's sending home two library books. You're going to have to get on him and make sure he gets them read.

Scuse me? SCUSE ME? At what point does he think I have TIME TO GET ON HIM? It would be nice if I had a SECOND PARENT IN THE HOUSE GETTING ON HIM. In all fairness, he does have a lot going himself, but geebus? He acts like he's soooo put out when I ask for any help at all. When he does the laundry, he acts like he's doing EVERYTHING around the house and I'm sitting on my butt.

And I'm not even going to go on about Kristyn and her tween pissing matches. What d'ya do when you get the desire to just smack them in the mouth because they will. not. stop digging and nagging? If I hear another word about how wrong it is that I will. not. buy her an adult womens' string bikini, even though I'm apparently far to fat to be wearing a modest cut swimsuit *growls* I am going to snap. Even my mother has heard enough about a damn bikini.

Honestly, I'm ready to go on strike. One wrong word and I think I'll walk out on my job today. One more piss and moan about vacation and I'll drain all the money I've saved up and tell them all to screw off. I'll sell the cute bikini I bought as an inspiration to get me to lose weight and we'll just sit our arses at home. I'm not clearing that damn table, not washing another load of clothes, scrubbing any more toilets or bathtubs and I'm about to give them all a dose of what happens when I really do sit down and quit caring.

I feel like a plate spinner in a circus and everything is starting to go all pear shaped, despite my best efforts to keep everything spinning smoothly.

So, more deep thoughts today.

I've been mulling over two very converse bits of music: Pink's "Stupid Girls" and Britany's new shocker, "If U Seek Amy".

I'm becoming a bigger and bigger fan of Pink with every new album, every passing year. Stupid Girls and the video thereof really won me over though.

Let me back up, explain something:

One day last summer in the local discount supermarket (I love saving a buck), a woman's cell phone went off. Her 4 year old daughter (I assume her daughter) Was riding in the cart, with the woman's purse sitting beside her.

The ringtone, while I can't remember the exact words, was one of the most degrading, obscene songs I'd ever, ever, heard in my life. It was a rap song, with explicit lyrics that went something like this: She's my b#(*&(@)^%, my ho, and likes to suck my big black *#&%. All she likes to do is f$*& me.

The looks I shot this woman could have seared raw beef. WTH was she thinking? Its one thing to have music with adult themed language - I for one enjoy listening to a lot of Nickleback's raunchier tunes, loud as I can take them, but NOT IN THE PRESENCE OF MY CHILDREN - OR ANYONE ELSE'S.

Back to Stupid Girls and Amy.

I've never been a huge feminazi. Not really much of a feminist. I grew up when things were changing, a time when while the area I live in now was soooo backward from Dallas and urban areas, but. things. were. changing. I encountered some of this in my own home - my father is a conservative... well. conservative from Texas, my mother a conservative liberal from California. Still, for the biggest part, I was raised to believe I could do anything a boy could do.

As a teen, I chaffed against the backwards things I heard from other people, especially in church, and I knew things would get better.

Now, I listen to popular music, see how the media objectifies women, and I am disgusted.

So what if Jessica Simpson gained some weight? Is this really, really NEWS?

I'm more horrified by the fact Tyra Banks of America's Next Top Model described their most recent winner "Plus sized." SHE'S A FRICKIN U.S. SIZE 10! In my DREAMS I am a 10, not a 14! OMG! PLUS SIZED? Try close to normal!

I am horrified that when Hillary came so close being the Democratic nominee for President, that we now have Britany telling people all their boys and girls want to If U Seek Amy. Sure, include that on an album if you must, but do we need to hear that on the public radio when driving our sons and daughters to school and soccer games? What sort of example is that setting?

I am by no means a prude, as a matter of fact, one of my first albums I ever owned was Madonna's Like a Virgin... and my mother bought it for me for my 14th birthday, along with my first pair of highly covetted Levis 501 jeans. I like the concept of Freedom of Speech as well as the next guy, but really? Do we need Smiling Bob with his weiners and Santa Suit while women line up to sit in his lap as his wife stands by smiling like a Stepford Wife while the announcer talks about penile size increase on prime time television? Do we need Viva Viagra songs and commercials a man giving his woman the come hither, I'm a stud, look being aired at 4:00 in the afternoon?

Really? I remember when ROGAINE commercials were so... hushed... that I thought THOSE were about sexual peformance drugs!

It just drives me nuts. All the hard work women have gone through, all over this world, to be treated and viewed as equals, not as chattel or sexual objects and we're going to celebrate all this other... trash... as high fashion, cutting edge, pushing the envelope?

I just... I dunno. I don't want to sound like a backwards, right wing nut, but at the same time, I'm feeling like the media and popular music is trying to tell us its okay for our daughters to be sexual at an earlier and earlier age, rather than encourage them to know their bodies, yes, but know their BRAINS even better.

To me, that makes all the difference between raising a daughter to be one day be President - or a welfare ho.

STUPID GIRLS - Pink (I don't listen to this with my kids around either, btw!)

Stupid girl, stupid girls, stupid girls
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

Go to Fred Segal, you'll find them there
Laughing loud so all the little people stare
Looking for a daddy to pay for the champagne
(Drop a name)
What happened to the dreams of a girl president
She's dancing in the video next to 50 Cent
They travel in packs of two or three
With their itsy bitsy doggies and their teeny-weeny tees
Where, oh where, have the smart people gone?
Oh where, oh where could they be?

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

(Break it down now)
Disease's growing, it's epidemic
I'm scared that there ain't a cure
The world believes it and I'm going crazy
I cannot take any more
I'm so glad that I'll never fit in
That will never be me
Outcasts and girls with ambition
That's what I wanna see
Disasters all around
World despaired
Their only concern
Will they **** up my hair

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

[Interlude]
Oh my god you guys, I totally had more that 300 calories
That was so not sexy, no
Good one, can I borrow that?
[Vomits]
I WILL BE SKINNY

(Do ya thing, do ya thing, do ya thing)
(I like this, like this, like this)
Pretty will you **** me girl, silly as a lucky girl
Pull my head and suck it girl, stupid girl!
Pretty would you **** me girl, silly as a lucky girl
Pull my head and suck it girl, stupid girl!

Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, stupid girl!

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

Been a while since I've been here...*hugs Mythican*... despite the deep thoughts I've had lately.

To make a long story short, I refuse to throw my panties at Obama, I don't care WHAT the media says about him. I hope we as a nation is getting our crap together, really I do, and I don't care who gets us there. However, the entire Messianic treatment of him by the media and Hollywood makes me horribly uncomfortable, but on the other hand, had McCain been elected, I'm not sure having someone in office that looks remarkably like Saul from BSG *especially if he ever acquired an eye patch* would make me comfortable either.

I'm just horribly skeptical that anyone is going to magically turn us around over-night, and I do wish the media would lay off the slobbering love affair and simply get back to the business of reporting the news. My mom, dad, and myself have started watching the BBC for our world news. OH LOOK! THERE ARE other countries out there other than the U.S.! LOOK! News is being made every day that has nothing to do with the White House and Labradoodle dogs for the Obama girls or what Michelle is wearing today and what she wore last night.

Pardon my mini rant.

On a totally different note, my mother, Kristyn and I attended a performance at the local university and were gob smacked. The Santa Fe Guitar Quartet was amazing. We'll be going back to the university Thursday evening this week to listen to a concert pianist.

I'm just sooo impressed with the live musical performances the college sponsors. In thinking about it, I've never been to a live performance, not of the sort the college has, and it was... wonderful. So many of us hear our music perfected through filters and machines, it's almost manufactured, not played and enjoyed. It was wonderful to watch those men get caught up in the joy of the music they were playing and there was a human... touch... to it that made it special.

Kristyn was agape, and refused to sit with mom and I. Instead, she sat front row, center. And sat motionless throughout the entire two hour performance.


Ahhh, then there's Sam.

Last night, after some power flicker issues, the power finally went into full cardiac arrest, then blipped back on. In the distance, I could feel more than hear a low rumbling boom. I looked at Kel, "Surely that wasn't a lightning strike?"

About that time, his fire department pager went off and the dispatcher announced that the Atoka Fire Department was needed: "a transformer has exploded and sparked a fire..."

Okay. I want ya'll to think about that.

A transformer exploded.

Transformer. exploded.

Keep that in mind.

Sam was drying off from a shower, Kel hustled out the door and was off like a shot.

I heard a quiet rustling at the edge of the couch, and then heard a quiet, "Momma?"

"Yes, Sam?"

His head slowly prairie dogs up at the end of the couch and all I can see is the top of his wet head and wide eyes.

"Did you hear what they said on daddy's pager!?"

"What honey?"

I already knew... but wanted to hear him say it.

"Momma," (Still nothing but eyeballs over the arm of the couch)

"A Transformer blowed up!"

I can hear Kristyn, twittering from her doorway to her room.

I had a hard time keeping my face straight myself.

"Realllly?" (mock astonishment from me)

"Which one do you think it was?"

(Still eyeballs over the arm of the couch and nothing more)

"I dunno momma, but I hope it wasn't that little guy! He's my buddy!"

I think if his eyes had gotten any wider, his eyeballs would have fallen out onto the floor. I never did tell him they meant an electrical transformer - not an Autobot or Decepticon type Transformer. *EG*

YES YES YES! We are NOT going in MAY! That gives me a bit of breathing room on the money saving plan, but I've still got to double up for a while so I have a head start, because once school lets out, I'll have to pay for a summer babysitter, which substantially eats into my weekly 'free' money. I can also quit panicking about saving money for Florida AND the ballet trip to Dallas in February. *whew*

Not to mention, that gives me more time to get rid of that hideous flab around my mid-section. *dies*

Kristyn kinda hurt my feelings the other day... she quipped, THE ONLY reason you wore that bikini is because you had no idea how fat you really looked in it.

*blinks*

Maybe. *looks injured*

This from a kid who can't even get close to touching her own toes. I can put my palms flat on the floor with no trouble and my forehead on my knee when doing a hurdle stretch.

Were she a random stranger, I'd have cleaned her clock.

But she's my daughter, and she was trying to be funny. I think. Still.

*growls*

I guess that remark sorta amps me up to put more effort into my weight loss attempts. Adds fuel to the fire, but still.

*growls again*

I bought a jump rope yesterday. *growls at her some more*

We are BOTH going to use it. I'm also going to buy she and I both weighted hula hoops. A 1lb for her, a 3lb for me. Just for giggles, I'll get Sam his own hula hoop - he just LOVES Alvin and the Chipmunks, so getting him to 'play' with us won't be hard, and his own jump rope, so the length is right for him.

I also think its time I picked up my bow & quiver and a basketball again. *EG*

So, Cris has disabused me of getting my navel pierced, no matter how good a shape I get in. EW!

I have learned upon research that Pilates is actually similar to yoga, and like yoga, will help pull my posture into better alignment, which I really, really need given that I try to slump over my keyboard at work all day, something that can and will pull my back and shoulders to the point I get a migraine type headache...

Wish me luck on that one.

I'm also noodling for a Wii Fit for my b-day, instead of the hockey game. Can't have it all....

And.

This is strange to me.

Last night, I could STILL taste smoke when I kissed Kelly. Not so much this morning, its fading but... merg.

I'm really worried about how he's going to handle that... I found out yesterday evening he was one of the firemen that did the body removal from the house... That's got to leave a mark on his psyche.

Then, his pager goes off yesterday evening, they call the 1st Responders out for a medical emergency... he's not a 1st Responder, but IS tranined in CPR, etc, because of his P.O. job... we relax... THEN THEY GIVE THE ADDRESS! I was the elderly couple across the street from us!

Kel took off at a sprint... and all I could do was pray this wasn't the third dead person he'd have to deal with in less than 24 hours... Not too mention, we know them, and enjoy their company when we visit, they're also the grandparents to the Trio of children that live one house down and across the street - Sam's playmates.

We were relieved to find that the Mrs. had fallen. She has a Life Alert thing that went off. Nothing broken, only some bruises, but Kel talked her into laying still until the ambulance and EMT's got there...

What a weekend. WHAT a weekend.

It's a struggle to keep the kids quiet today. Been sponging, dozing, and watching travel channel's best beaches series.

Can anyone tell me? Do they like put out an ad, for gorgeous women with hot bikini bods (guys too) before they shoot? Cause... the bodies on the Panama City Beach,Florida bit, were NOT the bods I SAW! Same for the Mexican resort show... Most women and men look... normal. Like we've drank too much beer, eaten too many McDonald's fries, and had kids... yes, having kids takes a tole on a man's body too... *EG*

And why did Kristyn just laugh, really and truly giggle, when I told her I was going to have my naval pierced if I make my weight goal? Which, by the way, is 15 more lbs. 20 would be better...

She found it wildly hysterical that I'd pierce my belly button...

Bear in mind, that's IF the pilates works like I hope it does...

Yes, Pilates. I've ordered a dvd and medium resistance band. I probably should have started with a light band, but I figure as much lawn equipment I wag around on nice days... weed eaters and leaf blowers, and as much shoveling and raking and such I do, I think I'm a little stronger than a 'light' resistance band.

Ghet, Cris? Anyone? Anyone do Pilates out of you guys? I have no idea what I'm getting into... and eventually, I do plan to buy a Wii fit, but with it being the big Lose Weight for New Years push (every commercial seems to be about how to lose weight, pills, equipment, you name it) the Wii Fit is almost DOUBLE its 90.00 price. I'll wait. I'm patient.

Also, I'm in a bit of panic mode. I thought, and Kel did too, we'd be going back to Florida in OCTOBER.

Jason and co. want to go in JUNE... I'm trying to talk them into the last week of May, summer rates aren't really in full swing yet, and we'd save 400 - 500 bucks on our room... it wouldn't be a big deal, if I'd known sooner, but that shaves off five months of savings... as it is, I'll have to double up on my weekly deposit if we go in May, and lord only knows if I can lose 20 lbs in five months - alternatively, I don't care so much about the weight goals, I'm CLOSE to a size 12 now, rather than the 20 I was, so, if I can just drop from a 14 to a 12, I can do that...

Eh. I'm gonna quit rambling now, put on some Katy Perry and try to get my daughter to do stretching exercises with me - what I remember from basketball, and some good old push ups and sit ups/crunches.

YEHAW!

Tired and not feeling too creative. Kel was called out on a fire last night, and left his pager here. He's still not made it in, but called to let me know he was okay. He got the page a little after midnight... and left in such a hurry he left the pager.

It works something like a one-way radio. You can hear, but not send on it. I got to hear multiple conversations through the dispatcher for about an hour, then it went silent. It was a two story house, and five people were trapped inside. The electric company was taking its sweet time to get there, and I assume there were power lines coming down because I could hear one of the fireman urging dispatch to call PSO and build a fire under their arses due to the high danger level. The dispatcher was clearly upset and apparently forgot to page out one of two more fire departments until she was poked again by whoever was in charge... and I'm pretty sure it was my husband I heard when he reported in to dispatch that the rescue type fire truck had arrived.

What really made my blood run cold wasn't JUST the fact that there were people trapped inside, that was bad enough, but also the fact that when he gets called out, I tend to try to put a mental 'finger' on the address.

For the life of me, I couldn't remember what the house number was to the house where Kristyn's friend, Enxhi, lives. Same street, and the house fit the description, (there aren't many multiple story homes on that street) and I spent a very tense two hours, wracking my brain, trying to remember if they were on EAST B street or WEST B street.

I didn't find out until about an hour ago that it WASN'T their house, and they are on the other side of town, same street.

Still.

I'm not really creative feeling today. Just kinda bummed, and not sure how Kel is going to deal with the loss of life - two of the five didn't make it - even though they were strangers to us. Oddly, I worry far more with him on the fire department than him kicking in doors, gun drawn, to take down a meth lab. Fire is more unpredictable than most tweakers. Not much, but yeah.... Not to mention, there must be such a tremendous trust between the guys on the fire department, but I don't KNOW those guys, not like I do the guys on the sheriff's department and out of Kel's office. I'm having to trust people whom a barely know with my husband's life in many instances....

Eh. Sorry. I'm rambling and mentally exhausted, and its going to be a long, long day.

I'm in a better mental place today. Glad for it. The 'girl' and her mother did come to our house last night, and I think we're all in a better place this morning.

I hope.

Its nice to clear the air right before the holidays. Not sure I'm ready for the warm and fuzzy Christmas get-together, for a variety of reasons that are NOT about the girl, but yeah. It's going to take time, but it's a start.

Had fun driving to work this morning. Freezing drizzle made the 14 bridges I had to drive over treacherous, to say the least, but far MORE dangerous are people who think an SUV is unstoppable.

Ohhhh, they are! Just not in the direction you want them to go! I don't care if you do have 4 wheel drive, ice is ice. It'll help, but yeah. Take yer time... that way, maybe my husband won't be out with the jaws of life hauling yer hiney out of a mashed car, like he was this morning.

On that gruesome note, you guys have a Merry Christmas, and while I missed it for a couple of you, a joyful Yule and prosperous New Year!

This entry is rated PG-13 for occasional four letter words: Reader beware.

So on top of 'all that' (some of you know, some don't and that's fine) NOW I have in-laws whom Kel and I have made a conscious effort to cut away from (Remember the entire protective order/young cousin on drugs/my daughter who was 9 at the time ordeal a couple of summers ago? Remember me using harsh language and references to moving buses and a certain person being thrown thereunder that would make a mafia muscle man blanche?

Everyone is now suddenly all confused and baffled, now that she's gotten clean (due to being pregnant woo frickin hoo) and had the baby, why I don't want to get together with them all on Christmas Eve, as if nothing ever happened.

My own daughter is one of them. *headdesk* I swear, Kristyn can be such a naive ninny at times... the problem is, we went out of our way to NOT demonize the cousin - at least around Kristyn, so she wasn't aware of how bad things truly were.

Now I'm wondering if we did her any favors by protecting her.

*sigh*

Someone please pass the eggnog - heavy on the nog too...

But God love him. My husband is SO HOT. I'm crushin' on him atm. And I love not having to debate things either.

He just called, said Aunt X just called. I knew what it was. She wanted to 'plan Christmas Eve'! Oh joy. I felt my throat constrict. My pores tighten, and cold sweat break out. Would Kel tell me he committed us? Would he ask if we would be going, or WORSE! *HORROR STRICKEN* HOST?

I love being on the same wavelength without saying a word.

When telephoned by the cousin's mother, kel's aunt, the one who I related just exactly, under no uncertain terms what would happen to her daughter if I so much as saw her out in public (she started screaming at me to not threaten her little girl - to which I told her I had a good mind to come whip her little girls arse in HER front yard so she could watch - my bad) anyway, she wanted to know but whyyyy don't we want to get together? Kel had politely.... declined.

Kel said, Until she calls us, makes time to come to OUR HOUSE, sit down, look us in the eye and apologize, and take responsibility for her behavior, we're both done. Don't expect things to be the same for a very long time, if ever, and that's even if she has the maturity to admit she screwed up and betrayed our trust.

More excuses were made for the girl. "Oh, but its just.sooo. hard. She wants too, she's just... *insert more excuses here*" Poor baby. Smecks them. WTF? YES ITS HARD! MAN UP. Join the rest of us who did stupid shit in our youth and had to look someone in the eye and admit we screwed the pooch and we're sorry. Want my respect, that's a good place to start. It shows courage, it shows responsibility is being taken, it shows maturity and that something was learned out of the ordeal.

I don't expect to hear from her really, and its just as well. I'm just not interested in reconciling with someone I may not ever be able to trust again.

Kel's grandmother tried pounding me over the head with A TRUE CHRISTIAN FORGIVES AS GOD WOULD!

Uhm, *beats her with her own Bible* unless I forgot the scriptures... ONE MUST FIRST ASK FOR FORGIVENESS! It hasn't been asked for yet.

Further, I can forgive. I have, really. But. I'm still angry. I'm still damned angry and I'm not going to confuse forgiveness with blind trust. Another opportunity to screw up with my children will not be given.

Ahhh, I love the holidays.

Pass me the Crown and Coke, please.

It wasn't anything that happened overnight, this newest revelation I've had. Instead, its been slowly creeping in, gently knocking on the insides of my head, and finally I had to give it some attention.

I now know, in part, what is wrong with a great deal of Americans and our economy.

The All You Can Eat Buffet.

Now, don't snicker and laugh - yet.

Here's what triggered the enlightenment.

I found a gas fireplace on Craigslist. We need a more efficient fireplace in the den, and one that isn't a hulking behemoth with a slow gas leak. This one was dirt cheap, but used and dusty. It'll clean up well.

We ate dinner at the Golden Corral in Sherman, Texas, on the way back. For those of you not familiar with GC dining, it has several buffet tables, one for salad, fresh veggies, fruit, soups, etc. One for cooked veggies and white meats, all you can eat Prime Rib, jumbo shrimp, etc., and a bakery type buffet with so many breads, cakes, pies, cobblers, and ice creams (toppings too) that it makes your eyes pop.

Makes your eyes suddenly far larger than your stomach.

All this can be had for around $12.00 a plate and its all you can eat.

And then some.

So, Kel notices a couple, who in his discrete estimation, weighed at least 350 lbs each. That's a pretty big person. Each one of them had three discarded plates on their table, and one additional 'fresh' plate, heaped high with food, in front of them. 8 plates on one table for two people.

Okay. I'm sure we're all thinking, yeah? So?

The other three plates each (6 total) were also heaped with food. Food that had been sampled, half-eaten, and cast aside, found lacking for some reason, or perhaps suddenly they just weren't in the mood for whatever items they'd filled their plates with.

So. Kel is mentioning, THAT is why the price for plate has gone up $2.00 in the past year or so, folks like that, wasting that much food.

Here's where the epiphany comes in.

Its not a... place... or a dining event that is a problem. That's a symptom. What the problem is, to my way of thinking, is an All You Can Eat mentality; Gluttony.

We want it now, we want it cheap, and we want it in quantities far greater than our need. And if we don't like it after we get it? Throw it away and get a fresh plate.

Don't like your husband or wife after you've been married? Throw them out, get a divorce, start all over. Never mind that some problems can be fixed if both of you are willing to try. Why try when you can just start over again?

Washer breaks? Throw it out, buy a new one. Never mind that you MIGHT could fix it yourself.

Want a new car? Forget shopping for a used one, buy a new one!

Don't have enough cash? Charge it. Borrow it, don't pay other bills and use that cash for 'stuff'.

Want a Hummer? A ridiculously large SUV simply because it screams status? Who cares if you really don't have much money, buy a house for 200,000.00, borrow 300,000.00, and use the left-over to buy the SUV or status car of your dreams.

For that matter, buy a ridiculously large house, finance it for an inflated appraised value, then buy the Hummer. Now you've got a vehicle that was intended for hard, off road use, (which it will never see since you don't live near a dirt road, let alone off road terrain) and you've got a house with five bedrooms, three baths, and you're either single, married, or just have one child.

I paused to look around last night, and we were one of the few families that didn't waste an obscene amount of food. I know I may seem hypocritical, since we have a house larger than our needs right now, and we've got nice 'stuff', but if it ain't on sale cheap, we don't buy it. If we do buy from an individual, we haggle. We do the best we can to NOT live beyond our means. And sometimes, it sucks! But in the long run, it pays off. Its not that we don't have the means to live well, we just fritter away what we have. Well, we did. Its been a long process, but we're doing better.

Especially now that we've decided its best to take only what we need, and not waste what we took. (bad grammar, I know, but it sounds like it makes sense to me)

I watched so many plates get raked off into the trash, and there was enough food there to feed soooooooo many people, people who I know are out there, hungry, and unable for whatever reason, to feed themselves. Be it war, poverty, climate change, whatever.

And don't get me started about the Black Friday doorbuster sales - one of which left an employee trampled:

The incident occurred as the shoppers crammed into the Valley Stream Wal-Mart when the doors opened at 5 a.m. Some 2,000 shoppers were waiting to get inside the store for Black Friday sales.
Police said the shoppers knocked Jdimytai Damour, of Jamaica, Queens, to the ground at 5:03 a.m.
Other workers were trampled as they tried to rescue the man, and customers stepped over him and became irate when officials said the store was closing because of the death, police and witnesses said.
Kimberly Cribbs, who witnessed the stampede, said shoppers were acting like "savages...When they were saying they had to leave, that an employee got killed, people were yelling 'I've been on line since yesterday morning.' They kept shopping."
The 34-year-old Damour suffered an apparent heart attack and was rushed to a nearby hospital, where he was pronounced dead.
An autopsy will determine the exact cause of death.
Dozens of store employees trying to fight their way out to help Damour were also getting trampled by the crowd, Fleming said. Shoppers stepped over the man on the ground and streamed into the store.
Four others were also hurt in the crush, including a 28-year-old woman who was 8-months pregnant. She was taken to a nearby hospital, where doctors determined her baby was fine.


I sit here thinking - what. the. HELL. is wrong with us? Humans? WTH?

I know of fights at the Wal Mart in Sherman, TX and Durant, OK. There were so many people at Wal Mart in Sherman that the police had trouble getting into the parking lot, let alone the store. Kel and I skipped Wal Mart, just because we KNEW what would happen, and cheap electronics and clothing are simply not worth the insanity. We are also starting to look on the entire concept of doorbusting as...repulsive. How is that in the holiday spirit? Anyone? Anyone?

We're disgusted that Christmas (I realize other holidays are celebrated this time of year - but it's mainly Christmas that I notice this in) has become not about good will toward others, it's not about love, or compassion, its about stuff. Its about the worship of money and stuff.

I suddenly feel disgusted with myself, disgusted with the general mentality that has pervaded American life, and hopefully, I can do something about it. I don't know what yet. But something is going to change, and its going to be a year-round thing, not just from Thanksgiving to New Years.

As I told my emailing friend, a post some of you may have read - not, depending on your entry viewing status:

I too have to take a stand... It has to stop somewhere, and it stops with me and mine.

So, I don't usually make New Year's Resolutions, (Y'know, lose weight, get in shape, blah blah blah) mainly because I KNOW I'll never stick with them. This year I'm doing something different. No Resolutions, simply a list of things to do. In fact, the list starts now, not in 2009. *G*

I am going to become a patron of the fine arts and will be exposing my children to them. *proudly waives three tickets to Swan Lake in February* The ballet is actually going to be myself, my daughter and my mother. Valet parking and fine dining will be included. *EG* That's sorta my Christmas present to them both, a weekend trip to Dallas. Kristyn is already squawking because I've already informed her she will NOT be wearing jeans or a jogging suit and hoodie - but her 'Sunday Best' dress, hose, and nice shoes. *beats her* NO we are NOT going to look like we just schlepped in off the street... thank you. We can do better than that....

We are going to go to a hockey game. That's all four of us. The Tulsa minor league is inexpensive and fun to watch.

I am going to sponsor *in small, small monetary portions and through Kel's business* some of the concerts at the local university. I understand the string orchestra from New York is an excellent performance to attend.

We're taking the kids to see the Christmas light display - in the convertible, top down. *EG* I'm sure a trip the IHOP for hot chocolate will be required after that. LOL

Also on the agenda is a family trip to hear the Plano Symphony. They're doing a Christmas concert on December 21st and will also have the St. Andrew's Methodist Choir performing as well.

We're going back to Florida next October, going to attend more car shows and maybe go to a horse race in Oklahoma City.

I'd like to attend a play (or a few plays) at the Shakespearean Festival the local university puts on every June, and take my children.

I guess its sort of my 'bucket' list. No, I'm not expecting to die anytime soon, but I've decided there are some things that life is too short to miss simply because one sits around talking about doing and not actually ever getting done. I'd like to expose my children to greater things than just sitting around the house watching The Suite Life of Zac and Cody, and hopefully, their horizons as adults will be fairly broad. I leave out mention of taking my husband to these sort of events, except the vacation, simply because I really don't know if he'll go with us. LOL. But I think he will.

Pardon the drivel today, I'm in a weird place due to mental anguish and self-inflicted over-indulgence last night. *EG*

So, yesterday went well. Kristyn ended up with five new pairs of jeans (thumbs her nose at her mother - TELL ME she CANNOT wear a size 16 jean and MUST have a plus sized! NYAH! FIVE PAIRS and that's after putting BACK several that fit, simply because Kristyn didn't like the embroidery on them!), a watch, four pairs of shoes (one of which are AirWalk sneakers in black, white and grey checks with Boneheads* on them), a South Pole poofy, down filled, ski-jacket type coat (TOO CUTE! I may wear it myself from time to time since its a ladies size Large), a shower scrubbie poof, a HUGE bottle of lime-coconut shower gel/shampoo/bubble bath, and other tween necessities, including a pair of house slippers with a huge stuffed cartoon monkey head at the toes, and numerous earrings and bracelets. (she had a gift card to one of those tween/teen costume jewelry/accessories stores) Next week I'll do the socks, underwear and bra type shopping.

I also witness an event of Mass Insanity, almost on the level with M. Knight Shaymalan's, The Happening. Wal Mart in Sherman, Texas, had gas for $1.69 a gallon. People were LOSING. THEIR. MINDS. to get at a pump. Insane. Just insane. What was more insane was this dude with a huge 'cowboy Cadillac' (y'know, one of those crazy huge dually trucks with four doors and 4-wheel drive?) and a 30 foot horse trailer trying to line up to get to a pump. I dunno if he EVER got that rig maneuvered around and filled up.

Annnd, I've succumbed to the insidious phenomenon of Christmas Creep. No. Not some perv that skulks around peeking in windows this time of year and sends you vulgar emails - I mean the earlier and earlier arrival of Christmas merchandising. I find myself not so irritated by the carols in the stores and even breaking out the Christmas music here. Just a little... like a preview or sneak peak. LOL. I am currently listening to John Lennon's So this is Xmas. (And please don't slam me for using "Xmas". I've shied away from it for years until I read up on the Greek Alphabet. t is NOT a way to 'cut Christ from Christmas. In the Greek alphabet, the first syllable of Christ's name, Chi, is an X symbol. *G*) I love that song... and most the time I tear up or outright cry when I listen to it. Its a rather poignant song that drives home the concept of buying what you're selling. Are you really a person who loves your fellow man? Or someone who's all talk? What have YOU selflessly (and maybe even anonymously) done for others, this time of year, or any other time of year?

It's a bit early for New Year's resolution, but I think this year I resolve the slow down a bit.

Its a lot easier to see opportunities to help others, AND ACT ON THE OPPORTUNITY, when one is not in so great a hurry.



*Boneheads - Samspeak for skull and crossbones, or skulls in general)

No. Not Christmas. Not Thanksgiving.

Its that time of the year when my 11 year old daughter grows 4 inches in two weeks.

My mother and I have been at loggerheads. Mom is a shopping freak, if one is cute and on sale, surely 10 must be better! My daughter's shoes overfloweth. As does her closet.

With duplicate outfits, all in different colors.

All in girls' PLUS sizes.

Which was what she needed a year ago.

Not now. NOW she needs a girls' size 14 or 16, OR a juniors' 3/5 petite.

She also wears a woman's size 8.5 or 9 shoe. The mind boggles. That is the same size IIIIIIII wear.

She's also now approximately 5'3" and weighs 105 lbs give or take a couple of pounds on any given day of the week.

This is where the battle ensues. I LOVE my mother, she is my best friend, next to my husband, of course. I appreciate her helping us keep clothes on the kids' backs. I understand she wants to dote on her grandchildren. But please, please please! STOP... or at least SLOW DOWN! Wait until Kristyn and I are there! That way she can try things on, and that way I can be the voice of reason. "Uhm, noooooo she really needs a smaller size, with a longer inseam, mom. Really. Noooooo, I don't think she can wear girls sized shoes anymore mum. How about we look in the woman's sizes for a sale.... NO. You are NOT taking the hemline up in that dress. Its just fine at calf length. Thank you for offering, but she's got nowhere to grow but straight up. Leave the HEMS ALONE."

The plus sizes are now simply too baggy and not only that, they are too short. WAY too short. Her shoes are rubbing blisters on her feet at the heels - too small. And y'know what? As cute as those velour track pants that say DANCE across the butt and have matching hoodies and glittery t-shirts are, let's not buy 8 of them simply because they're on sale, they're cute, and they look comfy. What happens is Kristyn basically wears the same clothes, every day of the week, just in different colors and with a different word on her butt.

I don't mean to sound shallow, but I remember the heavier/taller/bigger kids that were made fun of. I remember they wore the same outfit, in different colors, every day of the week. A lot of Kristyn's clothes now make her legs look stubby and her waist and torso look very heavy. She's really NOT a fat kid! She's stretching out now, same as I did. She has my longer legs, but her father's longer, barrel/Choctaw Indian build in the torso and a round face. If not careful, she does look like the stereotypical slobby fat kid.

I don't want her remembered that way, because that isn't her. That isn't who she is.

Feel free to throw things at me and tell me I'm shallow.

I have taken the bull by the horns. I have made a stand. I have plundered my meager post-Florida savings funds, and Kristyn and I are going shopping today, just she and I. Not only do we get the chance to 'bond' a bit and reconnect as females and mother-daughter, I get to treat her to a small sized makeover today. Next Friday, its hair and nails. *G*

Peace, Out!