January 13, 2012

Lost

I like to think of myself as an open book. Ask me something and more often than not, I'll answer. Even if I don't want to answer the question I'll respond in some way. Still, sometimes I have difficulty in talking about certain things. Not for fear of judgment or something of that nature. But possibly the fear that I'm too open. That's possible of course and sometimes I worry that I'm guilty of it. And even though I fear I'm going to cross the line and be too open with you guys, I also feel that you'll understand my need to purge these feelings, as incoherent as they may be.

So what has me so troubled? My 16 year old sister is pregnant. Even typing that sentence was somewhat terrifying. It's real. It's not her begging for attention and being dramatic. Fortunately, I guess, there was no shock factor for me. My brother (14) called me before Thanksgiving and told me. I was shocked then. I was freaked out then. I was dreading telling my mom then. And then after I was home for the weekend, my brother told me that my sister said something to my mom, however she changed the story of how it happened to something less than honest. In any event, I felt relief at not having to have this conversation. As far as I was concerned, my mom knew, she would deal with it. Very un-family like, I know. Selfish of me? Perhaps. I do know I was hoping it wasn't real.

Today my dad asks if I've talked to my mom recently. I said no and was told to call him. So I did. He tells me she is... and she's 5 months along. I really didn't know what to say. I mean, I'm at work. So as sarcastic as I am, the only thing I could muster was a very disgusted "Awesome." What else am I supposed to say? There's no etiquette guide for something like this. My feelings are all over the place.

I'm so angry at her. For getting herself in this situation because she has zero regard for thought. She doesn't think about cause and effect. She thinks only of here and now with no care as to what consequences there may be. This part of my just wants to yell at her.

I'm scared for her. She's 16. Has no job. Is in high school. The guy is away at some job corp thing ( I don't even know). Neither has a car. He doesn't even have his GED. Obviously neither has money. I mean, just  W. T. F.   This part of me wants to hug her.

I'm disappointed with her. How could she be so careless? How could she let this happen? Doesn't she understand how hard her lief is going to be now? How much money this costs? Doesn't she know what she's done? This part of me cries for her.

I just don't know... what to do. What to say. How to feel.

I feel lost.






January 11, 2012

EEEEWWW

Happy Hump Day! It's been awhile since I've bestowed some Shameless on you...

Usually I'm all for creepy crawlers and any other type of insect or arachnid. If I find a spider in my house the general rule is I leave it alone unless a) it's in my bedroom (last summer I had 5 bites that were raised, warm to the touch and red. You could see them through a pair of dress pants.) or b) it's chunky. I like snakes and bugs and if it's not bothering me, it's free to visit.


The only thing I've ever killed by necessity was the cicada that somehow found it's way into my house. I didn't want to kill him. Really. It was more the fact that those large wings create a very loud buzzing when it's flying around my living room. I being the brave soul that I am immediately cowered under my computer desk while yelling at my cats to declare war on it. Needless to say I had to pep talk myself to crawl out from under the desk and do the dirty work.  

The one insect that truly leaves me acting "girly" in a way I'd normally avoid? These fuckers. 

This is a house centipede a/k/a Scutigera coleoptrata
a/k/a AHHHHOMIGODEEEWWWKILLLIT!

These provide me with instantaneous shivers, that things-are-crawling-on-me feeling and a general squeamishness that won't rest until it's twitching and oozing in the garbage can. And because they reduce me to a shrieking a pile of girl, I greatly  prefer that someone else kill them. Of course one the four cats I own can't be bothered to lift a paw. And why should they? They're fed twice a day, given cat nip weekly, have a pile of toys throughout the house and generally are allowed to do whatever they please (when they're not sleeping). So killing a fast-moving, multi-legged bug that creeps me right-the-fuck out? They literally turn the other cheek. Fortunately boyfriend can now take care of such attackers.

Although it seems these awesome little asshats only like to make their presence known when no one (else) is around to kill them or they're out of reach. Yay for 9 foot ceilings?