Silly Little Girl

Because why SHOULDN'T I be qualified to make blazing social commentaries?

WHOA DUDES. Updated to add that supposedly today is National DeLurking Day, so man up and show yourselves!

Twice in one day, people. You must be absolutely gleeful.

Sigh. I've been trying to avoid writing about this (as are most of the bloggers that I really respect) but I figure now, while my readership is wee, is the best time to climb on soapboxes.

Britney.

The media, man. I know that people make allusions about love and money and kittens, but I'm starting to think that the media is the driving force of the new world. Paparazzi is what makes the world go round, yo.

How can I honestly bash the media, without bashing every single human being that reads the news, watches TV, goes to Perezhilton.com or hell, even reads this blog. Media exists to sell itself, and if we'd stop buying, we'd have nothing to bitch about. But that's really only a small part of my point.

I have ZERO problem admitted that there was a time when I idolized Ms. Spears. Jesus God was that woman an entertainer. I'm not making any references to stunning vocal talent, but the girl was a born performer. Had she kept her shit together, I think she would have eclipsed Madonna in legendary status. Now she's more likely going to go down in the Marilyn Monroe book of "Hollywood Tragedy." And "tragedy" this girl is.

I'm not especially inclined to have a whole lot of sympathy for the Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie types. Yeah, your parents were rich and famous, but neither of them ever sold you for fame or money. You did that all by yourselves. Britney, on the other hand, along with the likes of Lindsay Lohan, never stood a chance. Both those girls were prostituted by their parents, and subsequently destroyed by Hollywood, and media, and people like us.

It's not funny anymore. Personally, shaved heads and crushed paparazzo feet weren't all that funny to begin with, to me anyway, but I really think it sucks now.

The woman took her kids hostage for Christ's sake. And either attempted, or at least threatened, to kill herself. How is that funny? If it was your next door neighbor who did that, I think you'd be less inclined to coin monikers like "Unfitney" or sell the annual Christmas picture to Us Weekly. Why is she deserving of anything less than compassion?

I don't care that she's famous. I don't care that she "chose to live in the limelight." Does that mean she's not welcome to be treated with common human decency? Filthy hypocrites.

And so ends my own personal "LEEAAAVEEE BRITNEY ALOOOOOOOOOONE."  But in her words, for real people, leave Britney alone.

Ok, fine, but only if - by "resolve", you really mean "play video games"

New Years Resolutions, yo. I'm not down with them. Why set a bar, honestly? So you can continue to limbo on under it like every other year? Dude, who needs shit like goals and standards? Not me, man, that's for sure.

Whoa, dial back the sarcasm, self. I jest, I assure you. I'm all about goals, just not those of the New Year's variety. I am usually anti-NYR because I think if you figure out something about yourself in July that needs to change, you should change it in, oh, JULY, not six months later. However, it just so happens that 2007: Year In Review is looking mighty fucked up, and I'm seeing a whole lot of things that need to change.

1. Stop being afraid to tell people what you need/want. God, you'd think for a smart girl, I'd have been able to figure out a long-ass time ago that, yo? If I don't tell Lauren/Nik/Santa/Whoever want I want, I really have no right to expect them to give it to me. So, I resolve to just tell my drug dealer to lower his prices, instead of continually being disappointed at $200 eightballs.

2. Stop thinking your goals are stupid/unattainable/embarassing/etc. I resolve to no longer let society or my own brain tell me that I'll never be a washed-up stripper with a bad boob job.

3. Stop drinking bleach.

4. Stop eating just because you're sad/lonely/happy/excited/miserable/it's raining/it's snowing/it's Tuesday. Food doesn't solve your problems or make you feel better, man. That's what those mad expensive eightballs are for.

5. Stop trying to explain your sense of humor to people. If they don't think you're funny, obviously they actually HAVE a brain, so don't waste your time trying to keep up.

6. Stop masking self-deprecation with greasy, dripping sarcasm. HAHAHAHAH. Yeah right. What would happen to this blog then?

7. Stop letting VH1 set the bar on your personal standards. I Love New York should not be your moral compass. Instead, tune to Nickelodeon and use Jamie Lynn Spears as a role model. OH WAIT. Been there, done that, have a show-tune loving, Polly-Pocket playing 4 year old to show for it. SUCK IT, Jamie Lynn.

8. Realize, and accept, once and for all, that your kid is the absolute coolest ever with his show tune repetoire, and devote yourself to making everyone else aware of this fact, too.

9. Sing louder.

10. Tickle people, preferably strangers, more.

11. Drink more red wine. Try to actually like it, instead of just faking it to look cool.

12. Dude, seriously, stop drinking White Zinfandel. You are an embarassment to yourself and everyone who loves you.

13. Play more video games.

14. Learn how to say something other than "my name is..." and "monkey" in French.

15. Eat more carrots.

16. Make your kid eat more carrots, goddamnit, KID CANNOT LIVE BY CHICKEN NUGGET ALONE.

17. Kiss your boyfriend more.

18. Throw things at your boyfriend more.

19. Poke your boyfriend in his armpits more.

20. Eat less dirt.

21. Memorize, and retain for longer than a year, all the words to "Ice, Ice, Baby" because then you truly will own the universe.

22. Don't be afraid to tell the universe to suck it, sometimes, and curl up with your boyfriend, even when he smells, and play video games. It's all good.

23. Spend more time on icanhascheezburger.com

24. Spend less time on farmhos.com

25. Stop writing assanine lists and pretending they're acceptable blog posts.

Happy New Year! 

End Scene

Recap from Sunday on -

Sunday - dinner at mi casa su mi madre. Monday morning - fake Christmas with Donovan, sit-down dinner at Nik's Aunt's. Tuesday was Christmas at Nik's aunt on his mom's side, as is usual business. All was enjoyable. Then, yesterday. Oh lord, the saga that was yesterday. Let me recap for you, because it is long and convoluted.

9AM - arrive at courthouse. Courthouse is...unusually quiet. Wait outside courtroom. No judge, no attorney. Hmm. Check in with Sherriff's office. Get told that all judges are on vacation till January. Check in with D.A.'s office. Wait a million hours for them to find his file. Get told that no, we misunderstood. We were supposed to report to the PRISON at 8AM for him to begin his sentence.

You see, we thought that the sentencING was deferred until Wed, that nothing was officially ordered. Oh no, as we learned, it was the SENTENCE itself that was deferred. He was officially given 90 days incarceration, with immediate screening for house arrest. It was then that we realized that though about a million civil rights had been violated, in some ways the judge really cut him a break. He didn't make him report until after Christmas, and Nik is apparently the first in years to get house arrest for this type of offense.

[update - had to edit due to certain googleable tidbits]

Ridiculously long story short, prison sucks, county government sucks, but my loving fiance is home, where I can make him vaccuum and cook cheesesteaks.

So this is Christmas...

And then, with no warning at all, Christmas was here. Wait, where did December go?

I was really looking forward to Christmas this year, and I'm still glad it's here, but it's under the weight of so many problems in our lives right now that the cheer is a bit dampened.

I haven't been ready to talk about this. I'm still not. But I've been very limited in who I can discuss this with in my real life - partially out of shame and a desire to present the happiest, Stepford Wife-esque veneer that I can, and partly just because I don't really know how.

My boyfriend, the man I intend to marry, made a mistake seven months ago. While irresponsible and careless, it's one we've all made, and in this case, it hurt no one. But on Wednesday, the day after Christmas, he will go to jail for it.

He was sentenced to 90 days on Friday. They deferred the sentencing until Wednesday. On Wednesday morning they will take him into custody and send a house arrest caseworker over to inspect our home. If it's deemed acceptable, he will be able to come home the same week to serve the remainder of his sentence under house arrest. He'll be able to go to work, help support his family, but that's it. However, there's a logistical issue regarding the possibility of his acceptance into this program, and if that stands in our way, his next 90 days will be spent in jail.

We're putting the best face forward. Our family doesn't know. We're just trying to get through the next couple days, and make the most out of them.

And, because I have nothing else to say, no words of cheer or sarcasm to spread, I'll simply post pictures of the Christmas surprise that truly delighted me this year.

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That, folks, is a Canon Digital Rebel XT, otherwise known as my preeessshhuuussssss.

That is my son, and his chubby apple cheeks and mile long lashes.

Nik reading to Donovan.

And then being rewarded for his kindness.

Our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.

This guy, and us, wish you and yours a Merry Christmas.

You're flattering, but I'm taken.

Sorry to the person who got here by searching "Make mommy cum" on dogpile.com. The disappointment must have been crushing. For future reference, though, it involves anal beads.

“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.”

I am so goddamn frustrated. I am furious with myself...for being furious. For allowing anger and spite to let me believe that estrangement from my family was ok. Justified, righteous, even. I feel like my grief and grudges have finally turned-tail and smacked me right in the face.

I turned my back on my family in the wake of what were then grievous mistakes. I ostracized my aunts and uncles and cousins, even my own mother, from my life. Now someone is dead, others are sick, and the damage might be so deep that it's too late. How easily it all could have been solved if one person, just one was willing to bend at the right second. Was willing to flex to accomodate someone else, just that one time. How much could have been prevented if someone, me, anyone, had just said "I'm sorry"?

I feel horribly alone. My heart aches because I want to be with my family. Until my apologies are heard, though, and maybe not even then, that's not possible. I feel small and sad and scared, all over again. The fact that this heartache is 50% grief and 50% guilt is all the worse, because I can only turn it inward. I am sorry, so, so, so, so fucking sorry.

I already told you, I'm not cool.

I started writing a blog late in 2006, after being inspired by such bloggers as Dad Gone Mad and Rockstar Mommy and Amalah. I think there was a period of delusion there where I imagined reaching granduer such as theirs. Sometimes people should hit me, probably.

Aside from aspirations of super blog stardom, my life was kind of a mess. I needed to vent, and I needed to be able to pretend that people were listening. It's all very tragic and sad and really just full of...shit, honestly. 

At any rate, here I go again, hopefully with less melodrama and more margaritas.