Ever since we added wireless service to our DSL here I've been using my laptop almost exclusively, instead of my faster desktop model in the office. I like that I can sit here in my bedroom, typing away on the computer, while watching Netfix DVDs at the same time and being able to play with my cats.
I'm watching episodes of Dinner For Five, which I LOVE, (I bought Scott a DVD/CD player for his birthday and signed him up for Netflix and these were the first two DVDs I put in his queue, followed shortly thereafter by The Office and then a whole bunch of martial arts and reggae films), but because (ADD gal that I am) it's super hard for me to pay attention to more than one thing at a time, (something that can be an asset in some areas and a total disaster in others), I kind of space out on the DVD only to realize I've missed a great, big, juicy piece of conversation and wind up having to back up and watch it all over again. This is my third time watching this episode with Andy Dick, Marilyn Manson and Daryl Hannah. Who knew I'd wind up really liking Marilyn Mason. He's so damned funny and candid. You know me, I can't shut up about anything, so I like candid.
Here's an example of one of my favorite little bits of dialogue that I dig for the shock value;
Marilyn Manson: I gotta tell you my biggest complaint about Direct TV, and this happened to me again last night. What happens is, and I'm an idiot because I have a DVD player, and I've got the porno DVDs you know stashed. But I don't keep them in the bedroom. And if I'm a little drunk, a little lazy, I just go for the Direct TV, $10.99, and the problem is you switch it on, it's like four in the morning, and it's in between, and there's some bullshit conversation going on. There's no penetration. So you go and you switch it, and you order another one, and then you got like a weird like sports oriented, like, a bunch of real husky guys. So I'm flicking between the, I'm toggling, just trying to get just one-second of penetration.
Andy Dick: What are you looking for? Just a little mix? Or just straight straight porn, or a little mixy?
Marilyn Manson: Just a girl spreading her legs at any point is going to work for me.
Marilyn Manson: To Darryl Hannah -- I'm not offending you am I?
Daryl Hannah: No. No.
MM: So I ended up spending twenty-five dollars last night.
John Favreau: Cause each time you toggle it has to, it goes to another...
MM: It goes to another cost and they charge you. But you know what the worst thing is, half the time, if I'm real determined, I don't even get through the opening credits and I'm done. You should be able to get a refund back. I do that at hotels though because the hotels will give you five minutes and I'm like a... I'm like a lighting bolt.
JF: What do you do? You just sample it and say, "I didn't want that one?"
MM: Well, sometimes just reading the titles will work... if you're really, really desperate.
Beau's friend Steven is over, they made up after the hurt of the, "You're out of the band, man," episode, and I'm just staying out of the way. Sometimes parents can hang on to grudges and hurts for too long while their resilient kids have managed to move on and put them behind them.
I wanted to take them to the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids carnival benefit, but even though I called and left a begging message on their machine, I'm pretty sure I'm too late and blew the chance. Every year when I see the publicity pictures afterwards I kick myself for not having known about it beforehand so I could take Beau. I think he would enjoy seeing all of the celebrities who volunteer. The only reason I know about it now is because when I drove by the VA property and I could see all the booths and rides being set up.
I may even go scuba diving with Steven's mother next Friday since our trip to New York with mom has been pushed back a week. Mom's sudden change of plans has forced her to buy new plane tickets and we're stuck with the original ones for Philadelphia so I'm trying to talk her into somehow trading these for a trip to Boston to visit Irma and he kids, or Hamilton Ohio to visit my father's family's grave and Tara if she isn't too pregnant to see us. I'd really love to see the city. Or we could go to Minneapolis and visit Ana and Susan/MagicWoman, that would be fun. I kind of doubt mom will go for it though since none of these things hold any interest for her. I'd love to go to New Jersey and meet by birth mother or my uncle but since my birth mother hates me I guess that's out. I have about eighteen thousand air miles coming to me from my own credit card though, and I wonder if that would get us anywhere.
In an act of mutual cooperation that my naughty animals orchestrated some time last night, Lulu, (our Boston Terrier), has pulled off Kitty's, (one of our mixed Siamese cats who did a triple flip off of the cat shelf that runs around the walls of my bedroom, and broke his leg, it's about five feet beneath the ceiling and a good ten feet from the floor so it was a pretty daring and acrobatic thing to watch, poor little Kitty), cast and was sitting in her dogbed gnawing away on it with this self satisfied grin. Kitty, thrilled at having been set free from the offending cast, was laying in the sun grooming herself. I can see the vet bill now, lovely.
I took mom to dinner last night because Saturday is the one day when Rosa scurries away and leaves her alone for a few hours. We had a good time and she looked so pretty in her little suit with he diamond necklace and sparkly broach. We were going to go see The Stepford Wives afterwards but she was too weak to do anything beyond dinner so I took her home : (
Rosa, mom's scheming housekeeper, was so freaked and jealous that I got my mom to myself for a few hours that when we pulled up to the house I just knew she'd come running out, and sure enough, there she was knocking at the car window, ready to scoop her up and take her away from me. Note to self -- must perform some form of nasty ritual magic against this woman, bwahaha just kidding, I'm too beset with Catholic guilt to ever be able to do anything like that. I might be willing to consider ill will reversal spells, where you send the bad back at people who've sent it to you, but I would never initiate anything. I was brainwashed from a very, very early age, pre Kindergarten, and I can't shake the feeling that God would smite me if I ever cast any spells, that or worshipped other Gods. Although I do think Irma did something to her because just before she left for Boston she was all smiles saying, "Don't you worry about Miss Rosa, I've got that problem all take care of for you." I'm not sure what she meant but whatever it was it obviously failed cause Rosa aint gone.
I don't know if you remember the Rosa drama from a couple of months ago, where she pretended not to know the dentist was planning on pulling "the wrong tooth" or not, (she started yelling and shaking and fell to floor and had to be given oxygen, and of course, in exchange for agreeing not to sue them for removing said tooth -- a tooth she had signed away -- they agreed to complete an entire mouthful of dentistry for her for FREE, oh she's so good this gal,) but I can tell she's building a new case against mom's podiatrist. She had a pain in her foot, or her toe, or something, and pestered mom for months to take her to a foot specialist, so finally mom relented and agreed to take her and pay for it. I don't mean to sound uncaring, I go out of my way to help the people I love, but this gal is a serious manipulator and should have a sign hung around her neck that says, "Caution, Avoid Lawsuits."
Anyway as we were walking mom into her house last night, Rosa kept limping and wincing. She so missed he calling. If she were prettier she would have made a great Latin soap opera actress, seriously, she cry at the drop of a hat. She's been putting on this big foot pain act for me for about a month now. Every time I talk to her she embellishes the story about how this mean doctor gave her a shot underneath her foot and she is now permanently impaired in some way. First she said she thinks the doctor stuck the needle in her bone, now she's saying he must have hit a nerve. If she hadn't done this kind of thing ever single time any doctor ever so much as looked in her direction I might have a shred of pity for her, but just you wait, it won't be long before I'll be writing about how she got this poor doctor's insurance company to give her some kind of settlement. She even told her cousin, who told me, that she would sue me for stress but she "doesn't want to upset poor Mrs. Hyland". Yeah right, she knows darn well that Mom would fire her so fast if she did something like that. The lawsuits will come later, if mom ever relents and agrees to let her go.
Yesterday I went to my friend Atra's to meet her best friend Sepi's husband Vashid. Vashid and Sepide have been apart off an on for eight years now. Somehow Sepide managed to get in to the US but Vashid had to stay back home in Iran waiting for the green card that took this long to come. She would manage to scrape up enough money to go back to Iran only once every two or three years. He hadn't seen one son for four years, the oldest for eight, and Sepide for two. I don't know man, if I had to live like that, away from Scott for years at a time, I'd be having sex with anything that moved. Eh, just kidding, Scotty-pie, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Not to be sexist here, or hormonal, but I think women can withstand this sort of thing a lot more than men can.
Okay well, I got the marketing out of the way yesterday, thank God, so all that's left for me to do is get some exercise and do a few errands. I'm going to sign up for Pilates, cross my fingers it's not too expensive, and either the Curves that is near my house, or a women's circuit training place that a friend of mine loves. I asked her for the brochure weeks ago and she finally dropped it off so I'm going to go check it out. I'm still so hurt and angry over this weird, mean, journal gal's blasting of me that I'm actually giving my beloved treadmill dirty looks. In an act of obviously immature childlike peevishness I have banned anything that she so rudely challenged me to do to "improve my life" to the shit heap. I'll get over it soon, don't worry, I'm a resilient gal.
May I just ask you guys something here, despite the fact that I write overly long and super detailed posts, what is it that makes people think they know everything about the person who writes them? Could it be arrogance and superiority that causes people to fill in the blanks and want to give unasked for advice? Take for example today's post, I've written an awful lot, but do you know what I did last night after I dropped my mom off? Do you know what I did this morning, or this afternoon? Do you know what I had for breakfast or lunch? Do you know what an awesome lover my Scott is, (sorry just had to sneak that one in)? No you don't because I didn't write it down, (well, everything but the Scott part). I could have been masturbating to a Richard Simmons Sweating With The Oldies mix tape for all she/he/it knows.
Do people think I just kind of shut down and go to sleep like some sort of journal posting robot when I'm not writing in here? Or do they just picture me sitting in bed eating cake, popping Valium and Vicodin and playing with my pets? BTW for anyone who cares, Ana you were right, it only sucked for a week and after having counted backwards I'm pretty certain I've been off of them for nine days now. I'm taking a different medication, a much, much weaker one, and I've always been able to wean myself off of meds by doing it this way. I'm already tapering off of this one until I won't be taking anything. I know this might seem alarming to some people but this is the way I've done it before and it works for me.
It hasn't been easy, believe me, even with this other med, I had a really hard time there for the first several days, it's still hard, but its my path, and who fucking cares if someone knew two months ago that I was "headed down this path of self destruction" and warned me. Oh puhlease, thanks for the heads up, like I didn't know, but we all do things in our own time as is our God given right. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've heard people thank their higher power in meetings for giving them whatever dis-ease they have, whether it be alcohol, drugs, sex, food or shopping, they were grateful to it's numbing powers because they knew that without it they would not have survived. Sometimes we have to act out, sometimes we have to turn to things we know aren't good for us just to get by. Hard assed bitches don't understand this. I get to say this now that my journal is friends only.
Sorry, I'll probably be processing some of this for a little while to come, or at least until I wriggle my way out of this thin shell, and crabby my way on over to a better one, where the things people write to me or about me here can't wound me quite so much. If only I were a waterproof ducky, but not in this lifetime.
I'm taking Beau and Steven to see Harry Potter III again.