The written equivalent of launching a nuclear missle into my house...

Ok, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Do I regret it? Not right now. Is mom upset as all hell? Probably yelling a lot?

Bet the life savings on it.

Is the fallout gonna hang around for a while? Is Mark going to think that snow came early? Am I gonna get some sort of monetary penalty for this? Like paying for my stupid GRE?

Yes, YES, and probably. Shit.

Ladies and gentlemen, my mother: the reigning queen of speculation, worry, and negativity when it comes to questions of my maturity, work ethic, organizational skills and intelligence. If I'm wrong, she has yet to consistently prove it. But I just want to say, for one second, that email to her was a work of absolute sarcastic purity. And there weren't even any curses in it. Yeah, you read that right.

Ok, back up. So, she calls me today first. With the kind of tone that you fear more than any other. The kind that signals that someone in the family is either dead or dying. Only, that someone just happened to have four legs and garner more pure joyful attention than me and all my brothers combined...yes, one of my mom's beloved cats died.

Frankly, I'm still surprised she outlived them...for the amount of times that she ran across that highway to get one of those damn furballs, I really thought the odds were not in her favor against those cattle semis climbing over that hill at 60 mph. But did my logic matter? Fuck no. I'll refrain from ranting on THAT tangent.

Anyways, the call regressed to statements, no longer of any honest worry or admittance of total ignorance of the situation on her part. About my GRE, grad school options, and deadlines, she had apparently acquired complete omniscience, and was more than ready to pass judgement on how out of gear my ass was, and that I should step on the clutch and put the damn thing back into gear (paraphrased) and that I should just sit and take one more public bashing of my ability to do things in the face of so much stress that I could scream, that I actually did the second I hung up the phone.

So, here's to the angry messages, phone calls, yelling matches, and total breakdowns of communication that we all have frequently enough to drive us nuts. Maybe I should just get a big red button that says "NUKES" on it instead, and slam it down every time I get into these situations.


(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)

Shooting My Better Judgment in the Foot

WARNING: MUSHINESS MAY OR MAY NOT BE PRESENT. YOUR RESULTS MAY VARY. CONSULT YOUR PHYSICIAN BEFORE USING. (IF I AM YOUR PHYSICIAN, WELL, YOU'RE PROBABLY GOING TO READ THIS ANYWAY...). GUARANTEED FRESH UNTIL PRINTED DATE. ANY REBLOG-CAST WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN CONSENT OF ABC AND THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE IS PROHIBITED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

----------you've been warned...also, this should have gotten posted about 3 weeks ago----------

Ok, so I was planning on writing about one of these a week, to just keep up with life and force myself into a writing regimen. Then this week started, and I realized that my life is currently way too random for something so structured.


I spent most of the summer worrying and waiting, and writing about worrying and waiting. Exciting stuff right there, to be sure, but pretty soon I forgot that there's still something at the end of the tunnel, and that worrying for the sake of worrying is a stupid way to live. So, here I am....with a girl who says she can stand me, classes that are as easy as advertised, and a job that will only sometimes crowd out my social life.


First, let me just say that when you spend so long thinking about something and then it actually happens, it can feel like Christmas. At the same time, I can't bring myself to trust it very much, considering her and my track records. Chief of naysayers though I be (+10 points for getting that warped hymn reference), I'm still hoping a little. She's great, and I'm almost ready to entertain the thought that one date could finally turn into something special. If anything, I almost feel guilty for giving in and being happy; and here's where my messed-up, introverted way of thinking kicks in. Happiness in this way is opening me up to getting really hurt, if given the time. And several short relationships have made me pretty touchy when it comes to 'just taking it easy and enjoying it.' We've both been afraid the other is going to drop the other, and after hacking through all of that irony, it's a legitimate fear. We've both already told the other that we didn't think this could work.


But that was before the summer. Things are different now, and I just have to make the best of it, whether I feel brave about it or not. I have just scratched the surface of her shyness, and in some ways we are really, really different.


But in other ways, we get along well. I still don't feel like we're very close yet, but that's what time is for. Just, don't get me started on the concept of time and the decision to consider this knowing she's gone in December....or I might yell a lot.