Friday, January 15, 2010

Apologies And Selfishness

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I haven't been reading your blogs as much as I should have. I'm not dropping guilt, I'm not trying to get Dani in a twist, I'm not attempting to get Spot to love me and I certainly wouldn't want Lainey to feel bad on No Fucking Whining Wednesday. I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to read the blogs that I always enjoy and get me through my day. Seriously; I don't think I've even looked at Blogger since my last post.  I could list the ones I try to follow but then this entry would be a series of fourty-sum links and I'd probably end up sending someone to dwarf/ I started this blog because I wanted to write entertaining, funny, vitriolic, stories and I think I've gotten away from that. Perhaps this isn't a bad thing...but I haven't been able to write about shit for the past three weeks. Fuck that shit! I actually started this joint to provide an outlet for my tasty, tatsy rage so that I didn't end up choking the fuck out of somebody and spending the rest of life in prison. Given that I've been in a bit of a funk lately and haven't had any time to read a book much less write a post I was especially stabby so I was really looking forward to a week and a half of holidays.  With that, let us begin...

I was at the lake last week and it used to be my solstace, my escape, my recharge.'s my hell. I'm the type of person that has to take a break. I've got to turn off and just do almost nothing for about a week straight at least once a year. So we used to go to the lake where we have a largish house and just fucking get loose for a while. No work, no phone, not really any TV just straight chill. I could read three books a week play with the kids, swim, have some drinks, whatever. It was straight heaven be it summer or winter, spring or summer, sunny or rainy. That is, it was heaven until about a year and a half ago.

That was when my mom decided that she had had enough of the grind, enough of playing house and enough of raising a child. I should point out that said child isn't me. Said child is a fifty-two year old man who still needs a mommy to take care of him and love him. Said child is my Step-father. Now, while my mom  is certainly no treat and has turned into a mid-life teenage drama queen, I can appreciate that she no longer wants to play devoted housewife/mother. So, my mom moved up to the lake to "take a break" and got a job at the golf course hotel. The hours were long and the work hard as it's a new resort but she was enjoying it. All the while Mr. Oblivious thinks that she's just unhappy with her professional life. Meanwhile, he's gotten a taste of what it's like to run a household. Doing your own laundry, cooking and cleaning for yourself and not having anyone to tuck you in at night (figuratively speaking). What's his answer? Why, to leave his current six-figure job for one that pays half as much, work twelve hour days rather than seven, lose four weeks of holidays and move right the fuck up there too. How long did this realization take? ONE MONTH. Jesus fucking christ man, you couldn't make it one month on your own? What did you do for the first thirty-two years?

So now they both live and work at the lake, much to my mother's dismay. The hours are long, the pay is, well, good if your my mom and worked these same hours for far less your entire life. Problem is, when you have to give your husband 3/4 of your income to save for retirement and pay for the house (oh, did I fail to mention they're building a new house? Yeah, tore down the cabin and started over.) that tends to throw a wrench into the works. Needless to say, there is a lot of stress. They're living in a small town-house that doesn't allow for any privacy or solitude. Add to that the animosity that my mother has toward Pops and well...lets just say that things aren't all that peachy. Really, I can't tell you how awesome it is to go on vacation, have nowhere to hide from the tension and not be able to relax at all because you just added two more bratty fucking kids to the crowd. Unfortunately, they think it'll all be better once the house is done and they have more space. I know better, the issue was there prior to construction and it will continue to be there after.

I'm aware that I sound like a whiny bitch so I'm going to wrap this up quickly. We used to go to the lake every two months. Even if it was just for a weekend. I've been there twice in a year and a half. And it shows. I can't remember a time when I've been wound so tight and not had the ability to chill and take a break. Whatever happens, I know that my family will be ok. Why? Because I'm the father. Of whom I'm not sure anymore.

Now we're off for a Florida vacation for two weeks. With my parents that I can't be around for more than three days. Thankfully we have some options and are staying in a house. I've already told them that they will be leaving for a couple of days so we can chill. I'm boss of this bitch! That being said, if you know any good lawyers in the Orlando area please let me know. Also, I would appreciate it if you started a bail collection for me. I'm hoping for the best but...damn.

By the way: Blogger is being a real testicular itch and won't let me comment on a lot of your blogs nor even my own. Suggestions.

Toodles, ho-bags.


  1. *blows raspberry at all-ya-all punks* he said me first!

    I am not in a twist. I miss my stabby demi diety, but I am not twisting. I am sorry that you are experiencing a funk. I get it. I got it, in fact ... but I am sorry, none the less.

    Teenaged parents are a tough nugget to chew ... of this, I can speak. You are not a whiney bitch ... you are the epitome of stabby sessy-ness. I just miss you ... das all.

    Enjoy your vay-cay (have a face-fucking good time)... recharge ... do NOT commit traceable homicide ... and come back to the fold already. We'll all still be here ... awaiting your return ... breath baited.

  2. We were getting ready to form a search party to collect your sorry ass from FB. We called it off tonight though, and well, it was getting hard to coordinate flights and baby sitters- so thanks for coming back and making it easier for the rest of us. That's you always thinking about others...
    P.S. If you are feeling particularly stabby in Florida- I have heard the mouse is fair game.

  3. If you run into Ty Pennington, punch him in the balls for me, alright?

    I'm done.

  4. So I kind of got stuck on the "I'm not trying to get Spot to love me" part...why the fuck not??!

    Teenage parents I can relate to. Stabbiness I can relate to. But try not to go all stabby on their asses, because my cop friend assures me that stabbing people (even with severe provacation) is a crime. Although, with a good lawyer you could probably get it turned into a lovely lifetime vacay in a padded cell. Sometimes it's tempting...

    Oh and I totally set aside some bail money for you! Just in case!


  5. Dude, I'm just glad you're alive. No need to apologise, as long as you're tits are sparklin', we'll still love you.

    BTW, I thought I was the only one who's ended up 'parenting' a bunch of middle-aged brats and emos. Selfishly, I'm relieved I'm not the only one.
    Maybe we can form some kind of support group? We'll hand out plastic knives at initiation, so we can stab all we like without getting jailed.

  6. Aren't lake houses traditional 'go crazy and stabby parentses' type places? Just checkin.