That Grinds My Gears

I'm big on family. No, huge on family. I have two brothers and two sisters, a nephew, and a wonderful extended family of aunts and uncles and in-laws and grandparents and cousins. And don't forget the spirit on my shoulder who I call mom. I love to attend family functions. It feels as if I really try to make time to talk/see/visit my family. In college, I went home at least once a month to visit. Post college, I lived closer to home and went to visit as often as possible. Sometimes multiple weekends in a row. Maybe this is abnormal. Although, not once have I heard complaints that I'm coming around all too often. We always use the time to catch up, go shopping, or make a fancy meal.

So maybe I am being close-minded when I say that I can't understand those people who make a special effort to stay away from their perfectly nice family. I can understand not wanting to be around a not-so-nice family member... I have a few members of my brood in that same category. Who doesn't? When you're parents invite you to dinner and you make some lame excuse to get out of spending time with them, when a family member offers up a word of advice and you disregard it completely, when you talk badly about family to other people, when you can't pick up a phone once a month to give someone a call... these things I don't understand. What kind of person can give such blatant disregard for the people with whom you share a familial connection?

In the wise words of Peter Griffin, that really grinds my gears.

As I pretend I haven't been MIA

Happy summer to you all. Oh wait, it's over. I know this because of the 65 degree weather we've been presented with the last week or so. Foolishly I wished for fall weather and now that it's here, I hope and hope each day that Mother Nature will take pity on me and throw a few 90's my way. Pretty please? Not that Bridge Man and I haven't taken full advantage of the summers glorious, gloriousness. We travel somewhere nearly every weekend. A few trips to Six Flags to enjoy some roller coaster mayhem. Yes, I'm almost thirty and still enjoy a good coaster thrashing. Although I can't take it as long as I could have ten years ago. By the end of the day I will require two Advil and my fluffy pillow, please and thank you.

In June we drove to the southern most point of Missouri to enjoy some time on the farm. Also known as Bridge Man's favorite past time. We spent four glorious days getting poison ivy and bug bites, lighting fireworks, and shooting guns. Good times. I really did enjoy the trip although I can't help but be bitter. My skin has taken a beating this summer. Sunburns, poison everything, bug bites, a few more sunburns, and a few more buggy bites. Before this summer I maybe got one or two bug bites a year and never had poison anything in my life. Did you know you can develop an allergy to poison ivy? Well you can. Over the last few months calamine lotion, Off!, and SPF 85 have been my best friends.

In July we flew to California to see some of the family. Also known as Xteener's favorite past time. That's always a fabulous trip. We are planning to take the in-laws out there next summer. It should be so fun! Big Ma, that's what we call my MIL, wants to do all the tourist-type things which I love. When we go out there I try to act like I'm a regular California girl. Been there, done that. I'm fooling no one, I haven't lived there in over a decade. Seeing the Hollywood sign still makes me squeal a little. If your cross your eyes and squint a little, you can see it. This was before I found the digital zoom on my camera.

And of course August means that I'm no longer a newlywed. Bridge Man and I celebrated our one year wedding anniversary with a weekend trip to our Alma mater. We visited all the sites that were so fabulous back then. They are still just as fabulous. For a dinky, little college town there is a lot to do. Wining, dining, and lounging. That's how we spent our college years. (Maybe the first weekend before classes started.)

As always with the end of summer, there is a bit of a let down. A "what's next" kind of attitude. If I slow down too much I become like a hibernating bear. You may not see me again until next spring. No worries, my pretty, Bridge Man and I have some things in the works. A possible relocation, new jobs, new house, new everything. We shall see.

Exclamations!

Moon Beam is back from the middle of Nowhere, TX! She has been gone for months and months and months. Let the mayhem commence!




Don't we look like a duo of bad assy-ness? I think so.

Jaded

I'm in a bit of a snarky mood. A cumulation of events has brought me to this place. I try not to get too personal when writing here but we all know how unsuccessful I've been with that. Who cares though, it's my blog. If I say something someone else doesn't like they can type up in that little tool bar doo-hickey and be gone in an Internet flash. But I would really appreciate if you stayed. You see, all the personal ramblings seem to help a little. Knowing that maybe one person read, and maybe even related to what I wrote helps me to cope.

Unfortunately, I haven't talked about this in the past so I have no choice but to fill you in on the arduous back story. My 20 year-old sister has been living with Bridge Man and me since December. She got herself into trouble living on her own and needed some help. We agreed to take her in but with some stipulations. No drugs, no alcohol, no boyfriends at the house. We did not want her bringing the drama of her past into our lives.

We talked to her about going to school and getting a good job. We talked about paying off her old debts. We talked to her about staying away from friends who might sway her back into old habits. We've done a lot of talking over these past five months. Instead of getting a good job and going to school she sleeps all day, goes to work for a few hours as a waitress, comes home to stay up and watch TV all night, only to start the cycle again in the morning. After a few weeks of this I get frustrated and talk to her again. She needs to get motivated, to DO something with her life. She gets motivated for a day or two and then falls back into old habits.

A few months into her stay with us we find her drug paraphernalia in our spare bedroom. I get mad. She cries and tells me that it's the only thing that helps her to get past all the bad things that have happened to her. I feel bad for her. One more chance.

She takes my clothes. She stole my makeup. She went through my filing cabinet to find stamps and paper to write to her boyfriend who is currently in jail. These things go on every week she is here. Whatever, she's a ignorant teenager who does ignorant stuff. A month or so goes by. A bottle of Vicodin that Bridge Man had after a surgical procedure comes up missing. She denies all allocations. Last week, I opened a bottle of wine and had a glass. This week the bottle is missing. She denies all allocations. A few days ago I pick her up from work and she is wearing my scarf. Straw, camel, broken back.

I flipped out. I screamed at her the entire 10 minute drive home. I flail my arms wildly and hit my fists into the steering wheel. (Side note: I should not have been driving at that moment.) I screamed so loudly that I was hoarse for the next two days.

I am at the end of my rope. Everything of value has been taken out of the spare bedroom where she sleeps and stuffed into our bedroom. Everything that cannot be taken out has been locked up, tied down, or hidden somewhere else. I organize things in the medicine cabinet in a way I can tell if someone has been in there.

I am living in a prison. My house has become a prison.

I grew up with drug addicts and alcoholics my whole life. I made the decision a long time ago to stay away from those substances because I didn't want to end up the way so many in my family have. My mom, my brothers, my sisters and myself were abused by addicts for so long. And now I have invited an addict into my house to take advantage of the fact that I am her sister. She knows that I won't kick her out. What would happen to her if I did kick her out? She would go back to the unhealthy life she was living. If anything bad was to happen to her because I kicked her out... I couldn't imagine the guilt.

Funny Dancing Tomato Kid

Warning: You'll laugh, you'll cry, and you may pee a little.

After which I am unable to respond

I have another good salon story for you. A random lady, we'll call her Crazy Hair McGee, has been randomly popping into the salon asking for a stylist named Chris. We do not have a stylist name Chris. Maybe this story will read a little better in script format...

***
[Enter Crazy Hair McGee, eyes blazing, hair a fright]

CRAZY HAIR MCGEE: [With intensity] I need to see Chris.

RECEPTIONIST: [Long Pause] Um, we don't have anyone here named Chris. Perhaps you are looking for our other location on the West side of town?

CRAZY HAIR MCGEE: Chris is at your other location? Well call her. Tell her to get over here!

RECEPTIONIST: I don't know that they have someone over there named Chris and if they do, she wouldn't be able to come to this location tonight. We can call over there-

CRAZY HAIR MCGEE: Chris has to do my hair tonight! Chris always does my hair.

RECEPTIONIST: I can call over there to set up an appointment for you.

CRAZY HAIR MCGEE: Chris is not here?
***

I will spare you the rest of this redundant conversation. It went on like this for another 10 minutes. In the end, we would find out that Chris is a stylist who worked at the salon over four years ago, which would explain Crazy Hair McGee's unkempt style.

The next week, during a particularly busy moment in the salon, Crazy Hair McGee calls and is put on hold while we assist others. She promptly hangs up and calls right back only to be put back on hold. It's a first come, first serve policy so she basically kept putting herself at the end of the line. She hangs up and calls back for a third time. This time I am the unfortunate receptionist to answer the phone. We are still busy and I ask if she is able to hold for a moment. She tells me no, she is not able to hold because she has been put on hold the before and had to hang up each time because she "got the diarrhea."

Bob help me.

A Cut Above... har har

I start on the floor in exactly one week and one day. That means that I get to take real-life clients, do their hair all fancy-like, and make real-life money. What started as a random afternoon cutting my own hair with kitchen scissors, has turned into a dream come true. (I feel like little cartoon butterflys and hummingbirds should appear out of nowhere to start singing, "one day my prince will come!")

The sad part about it all is that my mentor through this whole thing is moving on to another job. She won't be there for me to freak-the-french-out on my first day. She was the one that told me that it's OK to mix this developer with this brand of color and that a 9.5-1 will turn a yellow, dingy blond into the most glorious shade of blond you've ever seen. I will miss her. I guess every bird has to leave the nest at some point. Let's hope I don't break my wings.

I've considered making this blog all about the random, crazy clients that sit in my chair but thought that might be inappropriate. Plus, I will probably need to vent about.... oh, something at some point. Maybe it'll be a mixture of both.

***

I went to the hair show about a week ago. (A bit delayed.) Remember last year? I'll try to keep my voice from reaching a higher than normal octive but, it was so fun! I did not get my hair cut this year but rather spent most of the day sitting through razor cutting classes, mens hair cutting, and spending time with fabulous people. Since I graduated I don't get to see them nearly enough.
This was such a random moment. I turned around to talk to K.B., grabbed my camera, and yelled, "Hey, everyone - SMILE!"
This one, of course was posed. I was just so glad to have all these faces in one photo. I wish I could put them in my pocket and keep them around at all time for fun-zees.

Blog Ideas; Discuss

The longer I wait to post something, the harder it becomes to come up with an idea good enough to bring back my two loyal readers. I have ideas, no doubt, but whether or not they become anything is disputable. Writing something that encompasses my every thought from the last few weeks seems a daunting task so here is a listing of the blog ideas I had. Feel free to steal them, write about them, or ignore them completely.

- In a high school sociology class, we were instructed every week to write a one page paper on something, anything. The only rule was that it could not be about abortion. The subject has been done. Lately, I've been hearing a lot about abortion and it's sides. I have friends who are pro-life and friends who are pro-choice. Most of them choose not to bring it up at friendly gatherings, yet some do. I sit silently in my chair thinking that the subject shouldn't be so black and white. Pro-choice vs. pro-life, it's never that simple.

- I have had many inclinations to discuss the "new" house guest living with Bridge Man and me. I say "new" because she has been living with us since December. The knowledge is, however, new to you. I choose not to write about her here for two reasons. I don't like to talk about my family's personal stuff online... it's not my place. Second, I'm pretty sure you all would get sick of me posting about how irk-some it is each time she rifles through my closet. It's like high school all over again.

- I finished school. Yay! Next month I start taking clients at the salon I've been working at for the last year.

- My goal is to improve my attitude. Bridge Man and I have been talking about how negative we can get when things annoy/irritate us. We've been trying to come home and avoid conversation that begins with, "You wouldn't believe this person at work today." or "The most annoying thing happened today." Someone close to me wrote this about being a happier person. Sometimes I'll reread it to remind myself to be happier person. I (need) appreciate the reminder.

It feels good to get these things off my shoulders. Thanks for sticking with me.

2008 - A Story

Note: This is a personal detailing of events that have continued from '07 into '09. I've gone back and forth with myself deciding whether or not to post such a private thing online for all to see. It is something that has consumed me for so long that is seems like a sham to write anything else. This may come down after a day or two, but for now it was therapeutic.

***

Give him another chance. It's the best situation for everyone.

Talk to him, tell him how you feel. He's willing to work with you.

The kids need to have their dad around, especially at this time in their life.

I gave in. After all, everyone was looking to me to come to some sort of decision. The last weeks had been full of decisions. Decisions that no one should have to make. Now, after saying the final good bye to my mom, I had to set the stage for the rest of my siblings life as dependents. Do I take them out of the schools they have been attending since kindergarten, move them an hour away, and make them live in my spare bedroom? Or do I relinquish control to the person who, for 18 years, was the bane of our family for so long?

After such a huge loss, I wanted to make the transition for my brothers as easy as possible. I felt it was best for them to stay in the same school with familiar faces. After all, in such a small town, everyone knows what happened. Everyone will be sensitive to their situation.

He is their father. Maybe he will change. People change.

I made the decision.

For a few months, he made an effort. At least it seemed that way. Little did we know that bills were not getting paid, the refrigerator was empty, and he was never home. My two teenage brothers were left to raise themselves. Fortunately my older sister was there to pick up some of the slack. Bridge Man and I would freeze meals to drop off at the house on the weekends we were able to drive up.

Any attempt to get him to step up was brushed aside. He was working on it.

Things kept on like this for months. Their health insurance lapsed. Rent went unpaid. My brother's suffered. My attempts to talk to him were futile. He would punish my brothers for telling me that there was nothing to eat or that there is no soap in the bathroom. He started to ignore my calls.

My older sister really stood up to the situation. On her small income, she bought food and other such necessities for the house.

Where was all his money going? After all, he was receiving my mom's social security checks and working a full-time job.

He took his girlfriend to Colorado for a week. A few weeks later, the land lord came to the house. Rent was five months behind. The electricity and phone were turned off.

He was reported to the Department of Child and Family Services several times. Nothing came to fruition because the boys are old enough to take care of themselves, I guess.

We talked to my brothers about what they wanted to do. They both wanted to stay in town and continue going to the same high school. They didn't want to move away. A few family friends agreed to take them in.

One day, we had a small change in luck. He had been investigated by the Department of Social Security. The money was taken away from him. They accepted my older sister as the new recipient. We thought everyone could continue to live in my mom's old house and my sister would take over the finances. He would no longer have control.

Nothing is ever that easy. We needed his permission to switch the phone/electricity/water bills into our name. The lease on the house isn't a real lease. It turns out he is good friends with the land lord. Thus the reason he hasn't been kicked out of the house. He promised the land lord that he was good for the rent.

He got rid of the family dogs. Simply gone.

He kicked my older sister out of the house. I guess he felt that she was gaining too much control. My 18 year-old brother moved out. My 16-year old brother is still there.

I talked to my 16 year-old brother tonight. Last week the water was turned off due to delinquent payment and there hasn't been soap in the bathroom for a week.

10 Randoms

I stole this from a Facebook friend who stole it from another. I'm sure it wouldn't have been hard to come up with this on my own. You never know though, I could have been the inventor of "22 Random Things About Me." It's all in the number people.

Let's begin:

1. I hold my breath when I pee. This only becomes a problem when I haven't had bathroom access for a while and the length of time it takes to pee exceeds the length of time I am able to hold my breath. I have to stop, breathe, and only then can I continue.

2. I snooze my alarm for a minimum of 30 minutes before I am able to get out of bed. Bridge Man truly appreciates this one.

3. After moving back to the states from Japan people would ask how fluently I could speak the language. I would be honest and tell them I knew very little. But then I would be dishonest and tell them I knew how to say one curse word. I had my entire fourth grade class saying "mi-sho-sho" by the end of the year. I won't tell you what it meant but know that it is total gibberish.

4. I have the feet of Fred Flintstone. I've shared this with you in the past but thought I'd prove it to those disbelievers out there.

I also thought I'd prove to you that I'm not the only one who has these feet. Those with feet in the photo will love me for making this public because they don't seem to be as proud as I am.

5. I am a product whore. I own more lotions, potions, and products than a woman should. Most of them go unused or partially used but I absolutely cannot throw them out. I just might use them again, some day. I've been doing better with this addiction though. I've been forcing myself to use what I have before I buy more. This revelation came to me when I was organizing my products and realized that I have enough lipstick, lip gloss, chap stick, etc., etc. to fill a bucket and enough lotions and perfume-type things to fill a duffel bag. Don't judge.

6. I don't read as much as I used to back in the day. When my sister, Bear, and I were younger we used to race books to see who could finish the fastest. In the winter, when there was nothing else to do, I could sail through eight or nine Nancy Drew books in a day. I read the entire series "The Chronicles of Narnia" before it was trendy, sailed through "The Baby Sitter's Club," and had every Beverly Cleary book read before I was eight years old.

7. I like to sing show tunes while washing the dishes. In the shower I sing 80's pop songs. Each genre has its place on my chore list.

8. I like to make up names for cars that I own and ones in which I spend a lot of time. I drive a red Dodge Stratus RT, her name is Red Betty. Bridge Man used to drive a blue Dodge Dakota, she was Big Blue. Since he bought his Jeep, I've yet to come up with a good name. I mentioned Hi-ho Silver but it never stuck. Any suggestions?

9. I get bored with my hair very quickly. I can't understand how someone can live with one hair cut/color for years and years.

10. It's really hard to come up with all these random things about myself. The list I stole from my Facebook friend was originally "16 Random Things About Me." I made the appropriate adjustments.

Crap-tastic

Bridge Man and I have always lived fairly modestly. I've held off buying those 200 dollar boots until I make it big as a stylist to the stars or Bridge Man designs the next Golden Gate Bridge and makes his first million. Be that as it may, we do have our extravagances. For my husband, it is the cable box on the television and for me, it's the Internet. Super-duper fancy, right? Back in the day when I lost my job to the beginning of this fantastic economic crisis, we had a conversation about cutting back expenses. As you can probably guess, my Bridge guy was willing to give up the Internet without the blink of an eyelash and I, the TV. Who needs 80 channels anyway? In the end, no conclusion was made and we kept both. After all, after about a month or so I found another job and all was not lost.

Our poor city is under a monopoly by this cable giant who goes by the name of *Comcrap. Long story short, in a period of about two months or so, we have had to contact said Internet/cable provider for a problem with the service. Each call becomes a 40-50 minute ordeal. First there is the automated voice, of whom I've become very familiar, then there is the hold message that insists how important my call is to them and pleads for me to wait a few more minutes, then, after 35+ minutes I am patched through to a customer service representative who is unfortunately unable to answer my question but can put me through to someone who can.

Then you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And then, a second automated voice pipes up and states that an appointment has been made for you for the next business day between the hours of 8am and 4 pm.

This is all well and good except for the small fact that both Bridge Man and I have to work the next business day between the hours of 8am and 4pm.

For the last three weeks or so we have been suffering with patchy cable and a digital box that pops up on the screen with random letters and numbers at will. As for the Internet, it has been totally MIA. I've come to the end of my rope and would like to cancel both services. However, that means sitting on the phone for another 30-40 minutes to complete this simple task. You can see my predicament.

Thus the reason I sit here soaking in the free Wifi that Panera Bread so generously offers poor patrons such as myself. This is the first time I've been on the world wide web since Christmas. Oh, woe is me.For this reason, my dear reader, I cannot guarantee a quick return to this blog. I hope to be back within the week. Bridge Man and I are looking into getting a mobile access card.

P.S. While this is unfortunate, it couldn't have come at a better time. In two weeks I take my state board test to get my license as a cosmetologist. I can use this free time to study like a good little student. Wish me luck!

* This is the name I came up with for this company after the fourth time I sat on the phone, on hold for 35 minutes.