I love you, I hate that you do

I love that you're family. I love the comfort and ease I have with family. I may be annoyed, or contemplative or feeling just plain hurt but I don't worry what my family will think of me first thing in the morning.

I hate that you have been home all day and just got in the shower at 4:30 in the afternoon.

I hate that you have been home all day and left dirty dishes and my new skillet in the sink.

I hate that my decorative pillows are misshapen because you have taken up residence on a couch I now wish I could hide.

I hate that they are about to turn off your cell phone and the bank keeps calling Mom and Dad's house to talk to you about your unpaid bills and negative checking balance.

I hate that you're not taking care of that. Grow up.

I hate the anal retentive person you bring out in me because your lack of respect for me conveys to my possessions.

I hate that you say thank you but I feel like you are just being polite. You want it but you wish it didn't have to come from me.

I hate that you don't try. You don't try for me and more importantly you don't try for you. You think you can overcome your low self esteem by belching loudly in public and dressing badly. Take that world, kiss my ass, I can do what I want, you say. But I'm calling your bluff. You can wear shitty torn clothes, watch tv, and smoke as much weed as you want. Whatever you are running from is still behind you. If you didn't want what money and education requires, I could probably make my peace with your unmet potential. But to see you want something your ignorant ass could have is mind-numbingly frustrating and sad. You and your brother... I sometimes want a family so bad it's hard to get to sleep at night but then I think of you and think maybe it's for the best that I never have children. I can't imagine the joy you deprive our parents of. The world at your feet and you chose to launch into life with less than they started with over 30 years ago. It should be against the law to be that stupid. It maims my heart to see such loveliness squandered.

A mini update

Lot's of stuff going on here and much to write about. The cliff's notes version is no matter how disappointed I am about some of her choices in clothing, recreational activities, and general aspirations in life, there is no one else I would rather have an impromptu dance party with than my sister.

I will

I will ask, 'How was your day?' before we talk about the smell of burnt food and the new Caphalon skillet that was returned to storage sticky on the sides and still sporting vestiges of batter. I should have known you too would be intrigued by the unnatural Batter Blaster in the fridge. I'm genuinely curious how both side of the asphalt colored pancake in the trash were so terribly burnt. One side I get, both sides leave me wondering what you were doing between flips. I haven't looked in the bathroom but a glance at your room suggests a 24 hour maximum of any consistent housekeeping or conforming to the norms of the people you share space with.

I love family.

Siblings...

So I'm sitting here trying to decide what tone to take with my sister who is technically a woman but still can't manage to stay out of debt. She owes the bank 44 dollars and they have decided 180 dollars is a fair amount to extort in fees for that 44 dollar overdraft which was done over a series of small purchases, none over 8 dollars. My sister spends money in denial, like a woman insisting on only having half piece of cake 4 or 5 times. She's not making the connection that it doesn't matter if you only put 5 dollars in your tank instead of 25 if you don't have any dollars at all. I have to remind myself that she is 22 even if she is acting like she's 7. I sometimes feel guilty. I'm the good child. Is it too much to compete with? If I became a total fuck up would someone step up? But no, I'm not responsible for her choices, I'm not responsible for how she feels about mine, and being related, I understand what she gives up on everyday she decides to avoid facing her fears, unfinished work, and checking balances. I'm angry at her because she doesn't even put up a fight and succumbs to her basest instincts. I don't know what the right thing to do is. We do what all families do, we oversell modest accomplishments to try to convince ourselves they'll be okay. We bail them out because we don't want to their lives to descend any further We yell, we plead, reason, cajole, snipe. We don't know where and when to apply the various kinds of love (tough, unconditional). We don't know what it will take but we hope it's inconvenient and annoying instead of dangerous or harmful. No one has the energy or time to run her life for her but I wonder if that's what she needs. She'll be here in about 12 hours so I have time to get some sleep, some caffeine, and about an inch of perspective.

Remind me again why I would consider having children given the predilections of my gene pool. *Sigh*

Conservative hooker

Was looking for some new shoes at LL Bean and came across this review.


Overall Rating: (2 out of 5)
Strange fit, November 6, 2009
By rughooker2 from Somerset, MA (Read all reviews by this reviewer)

"I would love to recommend these shoes. They are very cute and good quality, but the fit is odd. It's not really that they run small, though the shoe is very snug in the toes, because it is very loose in the back. I was walking out of the shoe even though my toes were crowded. This was without socks. The footbed was nice and soft. I regretfully returned them. Could it be my feet?"

Age: 45-54
Gender: Female
How often do you shop at L.L.Bean?: Occasionally
I would describe myself as: Conservative hooker, as in rugs, i.e., Christian, Watercolorist

No other way to describe your hobby rughooker2?

Something funny

Was talking to the parents tonight while going through a big bag of clothes a friend had dropped by for me to try on. I mentioned to my mom that I was wearing a new bra that made my boobs look awesome and heard my dad immediately chime in "I'M STILL ON THE PHONE." Tee-hee-hee. I had not intentionally freaked him out, I didn't know he was still there but it was pretty funny. Even funnier for anyone reading this who has ever met my dad.

Hallelujah

Dear Job Letter

Dear Job,

I'm sorry I set you up every night so that every morning I can foist my frustration and resentment on you. I do know that I'm really mad at myself and you are convenient to be unhappy about because you are always just there. Every day is a slow climb to accomplishing anything with the daylight we spend together and I feel bad and don't take the time away from you that every couple needs to stay sane. I'm mentally tired for all the energy it takes to make awake happen and physically tired because as much as every morning has me longing for a return to the warmth of bed, every night is a petulant toddler's struggle to succumb to the rest I need.

It's not you, job, that consumes the 5-6 hours before bed with the spiritual equivalent of junk food, and catches the reflected glare of my countenance on the couch between commercials and is disgusted. Job, you have a free gym on my floor and give me time to use it. It's not your fault but I still hate you sometimes. I feel like if you weren't in the way, I would have this wonderful life, and perhaps with income as no object, that would be true. But Job, I suspect without you, my life would pretty much be the same, except I would have never challenged myself in the way you challenge me. I would know less about the world and the people in it (and I still know so very little). I would know less about myself (maybe not so much of a loss). I've explored some of my outer limits in tolerance of all types of stimuli and had some modestly notable achievements complete with obligatory office cake.

So Job, even though it's midnight and what was best for both of us passed close to 2 hours ago, I'm going to try tomorrow to appreciate you, not because I have you and others don't, but because you're you. I've had other jobs, I can leave you and I'm sure I can get another job before the ink is dry on my resignation letter, but I've still got to take me to every job I go to. So until you eclipse me as the worst part of waking up, I'm willing to stay as long as you'll have me.

p.s. A promotion wouldn't hurt. I'm just sayin'.

What would you do?

One of the great things about city is I don't need my car much. It stays parked throughout the week and I take it out on the weekend to grocery shop. Here's the thing, the person who parks next to me in the garage (assigned spaces) is wearing the crap out of my passenger side with their door. I came down this weekend and just cursed a blue streak at how much they dinged it in just a week. I leave them plenty of room but they just can't seem to open the door of their wannabe Jaguar shit box Hyundai without hitting my car (which is a Prius for crap's sake). I don't know if I should leave a note on their car or a note in the window of my car facing them that says PLEASE STOP HITTING MY CAR. What would you do?


p.s. I just saw the trailer for Ninja Assassin. AWESOME! I only optioned my life rights 2 years ago. Can't believe the movie is already coming out.

DFW on Leadership

Really liked this from David Foster Wallace*:

"A leader's true authority is a power you vountarily give him, and you grant him this authority not in a resigned or resentful way but happily; it feels right. Deep down, you almost always like a how a real learder makes you feel, how you find yourself working harder and pushing yourself and thinking in ways you wouldn't be able to if there weren't this person you respected and believed in and wanted to please.

In other words, a real leader is somebody who can help us overcome the limitations of our own individual laziness and selfishness and weakness and fear and get us to do better, harder things than we can get ourselves to do on our own."

*excerpt from Up, Simba essay in Consider the Lobster And Other Essays