I've had a few memories popping up over the last few days. Moments that didn't make sense at the time, and looking back, they still don't really make sense.
My parents, crazy they may be, tried the best they could when they got custody of me when I was 10 years old. Neither of them had any idea what to do with a kid my age. They probably would have been ok with a baby.. maybe, but that wouldn't happen for another 4 years or so.
One major memory of my childhood was that I was in trouble. All the time. If you were to ask me why, I wouldn't even know where to start. Josh and I were sitting on the couch the other night and I remembered one of my "punishments": I had to write sentences in a composition book, and once I was done with that, dad made me stand with my back against the wall, knees bent, arms out in front for 5 minutes because "that's what they made him do in the navy."
Another instance that mom and dad thought was SO funny: I got a post card in the mail from the student ambassador program (I'm 12, maybe 13 at this point) and I was ECSTATIC! Someone at the church I went to hosted a foreign exchange student and it was the coolest thing ever. I thought it was my ticket to a vacation away from my parents. I remember bringing it to them and practically begging them to check into it for me. They laughed, of course, and told me that everyone gets those and it wasn't anything to be excited over. Queue bummed out me, retreating to my room to sulk and listen to music. Which is what I did most of the time anyway. A few days later, another postcard shows up from the same address, only this time the recipient was "Kaetoovius Romjin Maxiumus." My cat. Dad went to their website and requested information to be sent to the cat to prove to me that they do, in fact, send that stuff to everyone.
Another gem of a memory was my mom, drunk at 1 or 2 AM, screaming at the TV during the World's Strongest Man competition. I hate you, Magus VonMagnussen, and it's totally not your fault.
One summer I was grounded from everything except for books and my discman. While it was boring at the time, it sparked my love of reading and I got to listen to a lot of CDs. I think that's the summer I started keeping a journal, too. Friends weren't allowed to call, I wasn't allowed to use the phone or go anywhere. I remember the insomnia of that summer and staring out my window watching people walk down my street and wishing I was out there, wishing I had someone to talk to. That was the summer I bought my first Henry Rollins book.
The kid me had no idea why my parents were so weird. The adult me finally figured out that half my parents "parenting" decisions were made to the best of their ability and the other half were result of them being condescending assholes.
I hope, for my sister's sake, that their parenting has improved. They're still really good at being condescending assholes.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Huge recap...
To say a lot has happened since the last update would be a vast understatement.
I lost my Grandma Judy at the beginning of April. Externally, I'm processing it. Internally, I'm still reeling. She was a major part of my life, especially recently during my mom's major freak outs. She was a calming voice of reason, logic, humor and utmost understanding when I needed it most. When I was young, she rescued me from mom's wrath more times than I can remember. She helped me plan my wedding. She taught me how to cook. She taught me how to read out loud (while my mom was trying to convince my dad that I was probably dyslexic). She taught me how to be creative and appreciate my talents. She taught me that people see things differently and that doesn't make one person right or wrong (while my mom was trying to convince me that I was colorblind). In essence, she raised me up and gave me confidence while my mom was too caught up in being right and making sure everyone else was wrong. In summary, she was a pretty big deal to me.
I know how losing her made me feel- like the guiding light I had pulling me through my mom's storm had just been blown out. She had a way of pushing all the unnecessary bullshit out of the way and really focusing on the true problem. I can't fathom how it made my grandfather feel. He took care of her, day in and day out. He loved her with all his heart. They made each other better people. I can't think of that and not feel the immense need to run home to him and just hug him. My grandfather is a great person. One of my top 5 favorite people of all time. For all intents and purposes, he's my dad and I've always felt that way toward him. We were all present when Judy took her last breath, we all cried, we all told stories, and we all felt the heaviness as they took her out of the house and we all said goodbye for the last time.
I won't be eloquent: It was fucking hard. My brain told me to be strong, my heart told me to do it for more than just myself. We spent that night drinking, awake until we couldn't hold our eyes open anymore. When we woke up the next morning, we cleaned ourselves up and took to the yard. Me, Dad, Josh, Mia & Tim. All we had was familial solidarity. All we had was what we needed to do. All we wanted to do was escape. And it wasn't until the words left my mouth that I realized we were all thinking the same thing: Let's go to the camp. The piece of property out in the middle of nowhere, on top of a mountain, away from the phone calls, the neighbors, and into the quiet. Just us, a jug of moonshine, cigarettes and endless stories. It was then- my grandpa turned to me and said: "After the divorce, I wish I could have kept you. It would have been me and you and we would have been all right." I've been crying over those words ever since. My life would have been so different.
The next afternoon, we were in Cancun, Mexico for a whole week! Our schedule went something like this: Wake up, coffee, booze, books, booze, beach, booze, pool, booze, lunch, booze, nap, booze, dinner, booze, booze, booze, sleep. The booze was great but the food was AMAZING. It really is true that American's value quantity over quality. Everything that we ate or drank had one of us saying "this is the best (insert item here) that I've ever had!" After a week, I was afraid that the jeans I had packed to travel back in weren't going to fit! We really did gorge ourselves. Duck pate? Yeah, we ate that and likely drank about $1000 worth of Don Julio tequila.
Well it turns out my "reasonable raise" was completely unreasonable and their counter offer was insulting to say the least. I immediately told my boss if they couldn't approve something more in my favor, that I would be leaving for another job as soon as possible. He hemmed and hawed and I ended the conversation and went on a mission to find my other boss to royally chew her out for the shit that she strung me through. Her reply was something to the tune of "I see you more as a friend, which is why I told you so early on that we wanted to move you up." You're my boss, not my friend. Thanks for making me jump through hoops for your own entertainment. Within days, I find out she's put in to move to another store. Within days, I'm sending out resumes like candy on Halloween.
About a week into it, I get a call back and an interview. When asked what pay rate I'm looking for, I say what I'm making now and I got laughed at. She tells me that she can definitely offer me more than that. A few days later, I get a call back with a job offer with $11 an hour pay. (More than I had asked for and as many hours as I want to work.) So now I have a nice cushy desk job, my bosses love me, and Josh and I get to carpool to work. AND I'll make enough money to pay off my credit cards!
I lost my Grandma Judy at the beginning of April. Externally, I'm processing it. Internally, I'm still reeling. She was a major part of my life, especially recently during my mom's major freak outs. She was a calming voice of reason, logic, humor and utmost understanding when I needed it most. When I was young, she rescued me from mom's wrath more times than I can remember. She helped me plan my wedding. She taught me how to cook. She taught me how to read out loud (while my mom was trying to convince my dad that I was probably dyslexic). She taught me how to be creative and appreciate my talents. She taught me that people see things differently and that doesn't make one person right or wrong (while my mom was trying to convince me that I was colorblind). In essence, she raised me up and gave me confidence while my mom was too caught up in being right and making sure everyone else was wrong. In summary, she was a pretty big deal to me.
I know how losing her made me feel- like the guiding light I had pulling me through my mom's storm had just been blown out. She had a way of pushing all the unnecessary bullshit out of the way and really focusing on the true problem. I can't fathom how it made my grandfather feel. He took care of her, day in and day out. He loved her with all his heart. They made each other better people. I can't think of that and not feel the immense need to run home to him and just hug him. My grandfather is a great person. One of my top 5 favorite people of all time. For all intents and purposes, he's my dad and I've always felt that way toward him. We were all present when Judy took her last breath, we all cried, we all told stories, and we all felt the heaviness as they took her out of the house and we all said goodbye for the last time.
I won't be eloquent: It was fucking hard. My brain told me to be strong, my heart told me to do it for more than just myself. We spent that night drinking, awake until we couldn't hold our eyes open anymore. When we woke up the next morning, we cleaned ourselves up and took to the yard. Me, Dad, Josh, Mia & Tim. All we had was familial solidarity. All we had was what we needed to do. All we wanted to do was escape. And it wasn't until the words left my mouth that I realized we were all thinking the same thing: Let's go to the camp. The piece of property out in the middle of nowhere, on top of a mountain, away from the phone calls, the neighbors, and into the quiet. Just us, a jug of moonshine, cigarettes and endless stories. It was then- my grandpa turned to me and said: "After the divorce, I wish I could have kept you. It would have been me and you and we would have been all right." I've been crying over those words ever since. My life would have been so different.
~~~~~~~
That was the beginning of April, our wedding was in July. I'll put this very plainly, for anyone that's reading and feeling the need to put their nose in someone's personal business: My parents were invited to the wedding. They did not respond by the RSVP due date and Josh called them to ask if they were coming and my mom said no. That's it, the end, there is nothing more to say. Please don't email me with any questions or comments or asking me to explain "my side of the story."
We finished planning and pulled everything together fabulously. My grandpa did the ceremony and everything was perfectly imperfect. The whole thing kicked off around 5:45 and Josh and I threw back a shot of moonshine to take the edge off before we walked down the aisle together. I consider it a personal victory that we didn't cry all the way through the ceremony. We had so much fun being with everyone and having our two lives come together as one. His family loves my family and my family loves his. The turnout was wonderful. It was so overwhelming to see everyone's smiling faces and know that we are loved.It felt like Judy was there with me all day long. She gave me the extra burst of energy to dye the icing the way I wanted and it reminded me that if I want something bad enough, I have the strength to make it happen for myself. (And to laugh if it doesn't turn out as expected: the purple cupcakes turned blue, my wedding band was lost in the yard and we almost didn't get to say our vows!!) If you keep up with me on Facebook, you can find the link to the photo album. The pictures turned out amazing. Josh and I were so glad once it was all over because it meant that the stress was done and we were FINALLY married.
The next afternoon, we were in Cancun, Mexico for a whole week! Our schedule went something like this: Wake up, coffee, booze, books, booze, beach, booze, pool, booze, lunch, booze, nap, booze, dinner, booze, booze, booze, sleep. The booze was great but the food was AMAZING. It really is true that American's value quantity over quality. Everything that we ate or drank had one of us saying "this is the best (insert item here) that I've ever had!" After a week, I was afraid that the jeans I had packed to travel back in weren't going to fit! We really did gorge ourselves. Duck pate? Yeah, we ate that and likely drank about $1000 worth of Don Julio tequila.
~~~~~
Once we finally got back and settled into our old schedules, I put my nose to the ground job hunting. I don't think I mentioned it on here before: My boss had been telling me since January that I was being considered for management and they wanted to move me up as soon as possible. May-ish rolls around and a position was finally posted that I was told I was getting. Turns out, I still had to apply and interview for it. Also turns out, other people were being considered for the job. After a month or so with no response, I started getting pushy and they finally offered me the position. When I asked what the pay raise would be, my boss asked what I wanted and I replied with what I thought a reasonable raise would be. Que the deer in headlights stare from my boss and the canned response of "I will see if I can get that approved." Well it turns out my "reasonable raise" was completely unreasonable and their counter offer was insulting to say the least. I immediately told my boss if they couldn't approve something more in my favor, that I would be leaving for another job as soon as possible. He hemmed and hawed and I ended the conversation and went on a mission to find my other boss to royally chew her out for the shit that she strung me through. Her reply was something to the tune of "I see you more as a friend, which is why I told you so early on that we wanted to move you up." You're my boss, not my friend. Thanks for making me jump through hoops for your own entertainment. Within days, I find out she's put in to move to another store. Within days, I'm sending out resumes like candy on Halloween.
About a week into it, I get a call back and an interview. When asked what pay rate I'm looking for, I say what I'm making now and I got laughed at. She tells me that she can definitely offer me more than that. A few days later, I get a call back with a job offer with $11 an hour pay. (More than I had asked for and as many hours as I want to work.) So now I have a nice cushy desk job, my bosses love me, and Josh and I get to carpool to work. AND I'll make enough money to pay off my credit cards!
~~~~~
Josh's birthday was August 18th. It's officially his last year of his 20's! I cooked him a pot roast and we went to see Alison Krauss & Union Station live at the St. Augustine Amphitheater. It was a fantastic show and we somehow managed to finagle free parking! We also added a new head to our household! Thanks to the Jacksonville Humane Society, we have a new doggy buddy named Geddy. (Affectionately Gedward Puppercorn)
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