
The only low point of the weekend? Effing kiddie porn freaks get set free.
I am so entirely excited by this whole moving thing that it has managed to push aside my anxiety over the sneaky-question "quiz" (that is really a test in a poorly constructed disguise) I have to take tonight.
Thank you P, for the validation that a tiny fridge is perfectly okay (especially in light of the fact that I hardly ever have food in my large sized refridgerators anyway).Labels: Seattle
----- -------- AUTHOR: Kelly Bean TITLE: Tell Her What She's Won, Bob! DATE: 9/29/2006 07:55:00 PM ----- BODY: I called it. It's really too bad that I don't get a prize for calling out how predictable my family is. Signed my lease today, so it's officially mine for a year at least. The signing of which got me all jazzed again (which was nice, after having sort of a down Friday). Almost immediately when I got home I started making a mental list of where things would need to go, what I would need to be rid of, and what I couldn't live without. It was decided, since it was free anyway, and belonged to a friend of J's, that the queen sized bed would go rather than me paying to store it (which would probably amount to a higher storage fee than if I just stored important boxes). My first mistake, was to be kind and generous by wanting to see if any family members would want the bed first, prior to giving it away to strangers. I curse myself for my kindness. Unfortunately, when I started by calling my sister, she happened to be at my mom's house with my nephew. Prior to realizing where she was I made the offer...almost as soon as she said she didn't need it, before I could scream at her to stop, she relayed to my mother that a bed was available if she happened to know anyone that would want it. If imaginations all of a sudden became real, I would have actually sunk into the ground, never to rise again. My day had gotten better...I was loving how much better it had gotten...I did not yet want to deal with the guilt that attempts to suck me in at breakneck speed after every single decision is made by me regarding my life (emphasize, my life). You would have thought that I had announced that I had decided to neverever have children, was having a sex change, was moving to Iceland, and on top of everything else, wanted to have a tail surgically implanted on my backside. Really. The pepper of questions that I overheard in the background from my mother really made me pity my sister at that moment. So, I bit...I made my second mistake by calling my mother in an attempt to damage control. I calmly explained that this was much better for me considering what I was doing with my life at the moment...it's five minutes from school, blah, blah, blah. Apparently, the issue that was causing the uproar of a household 10 minutes away, was the fact that I was giving away a bed that I didn't pay for. I'm not kidding. Her: Why do you have to give away all your stuff? Me: I'm not giving away all my stuff...my new apt. will not fit a queen sized bed & my futon. Her: Why can't you fit anything in it? Me: Because it's not a million square feet like my current place...it's downtown. Her: Isn't this the bed you paid for not too long ago? Me: No...it was free. Her: What are you going to do in six months when you need a bed again? Me: I signed a year long lease. Her: You didn't answer my question. Me: I'll worry about it then. Her: You're going to be able to afford a new bed in a year? I'll tell you now, you're not! Me: I'll worry about it then. I'm not worried about it and it's my problem, so you don't need to worry about it. Her: Who's going to take care of your dog when you need it? Me: No one will need to...that's the point of it. Her: How are you going to buy a new bed in a year? My brain: (Maybe I will win the lottery and I will buy 20 beds...maybe I will end up on the streets and a bed will be the least of my problems...I'm not going to stress out about what might or might not happen a year from now!) Me (because I get what the real issue is about): It's only 15 minutes away, mom, it's not as if I'm moving to Idaho. (translates into=I'm not abandoning you). Her: Yah...if you don't drive between 3pm & 5pm (translates into=yes you are). Me: I know, mom...I drive it twice every day right now (and I do my best to not go insane each time I do it during a weekday). Her: Whatever, I need to go now. (translates into=you've wronged me and I'm done with the conversation now because you're not going to change your mind). Me: Okay, I love you. Her: Bye. (translates into=I'm not saying that I love you in return because I'm going to punish you for not doing what I would have preferred). I sat quietly for a good ten minutes to stave off a fit of rage. Then I cried. I hate feeling as if someone is trying to control me, more than I hate anything else on this planet. I cannot live my life in a healthy manner, go to school successfully, keep my job at the same time successfully, and keep up my relationships with others successfully while bearing the burden of responsibility of whether someone else is happy or not...especially not a family member. Especially not my mother, who I am more grateful to than anyone for where I've ended up in my life. That is the irony of it, because what I have never had the nerve to say to her, but have always wanted to cry out in situations like this is, but this is what you taught me to do-to do what makes me happy and to use my independence in order to get what I want, and make different decisions than you did, but then you try to punish me for it. I am the only one out of three that is doing exactly what she raised me to do which is to not depend on others for what I want out of life, to set a goal and achieve it, to think myself worthy of being happy and to do what it takes to make that happen. I'm doing what maybe she doesn't realize she taught me to do...and she can see it only in what would be more tangible means such as "my daughter is married", or "my daughter is married and has two children" or "my daughter and her husband own a house now". I would give my left arm for her to see it as "my daughter is her own person, and capable, and I helped to do that for her". I know enough to know where she's at and why she does it. She's unhappy at this point in her life...she's unhappy to be ill, she's unhappy with some of the choices that have put her where she is (which I've known most of my life), and she's unhappy that she feels there's nothing she can do about it. Only instead of seeing it for what it is, it turns into a daughter that's deserting and going too far away, or another daughter that's making a bad choice...because it's so much easier to focus on what other people are doing wrong, than to focus on what we might be doing wrong. Although, I have to admit...it kills me a little inside to know that she's that unhappy, and that I can't do a single thing in the world to change that for her. At the very least, I understand the dynamics of this situation, so I don't have to get angry with her...and I've done my best to help her when she's asked for it. All else aside, though...if I do have children, I will never, ever, make them feel responsible for my happiness. It is one of the worst feelings in the world to know that you are the catalyst for someone's contentment, when you realize that you are actually helpless to change anything for them, because they have to do it on their own. ----- COMMENT: AUTHOR: DATE:9/30/2006 03:02:00 PM I know enough to know where she's at and why she does it. She's unhappy at this point in her life...she's unhappy to be ill, she's unhappy with some of the choices that have put her where she is (which I've known most of my life), and she's unhappy that she feels there's nothing she can do about it. Only instead of seeing it for what it is, it turns into a daughter that's deserting and going too far away, or another daughter that's making a bad choice
(So, yah...it was actually taken upside down and I rotated it, so it looks odd.)
2b) Second reason? It's always fun watching them wreck the place as one of the 5 trillion fly balls this evening hit the KOMO sign...
3b) The picture says it all (please note...I wasn't trying to get a picture of Sexson adjusting himself...I was just trying to get the picture is all)...
C) I think my mom was right...I'm shrinking. Oddly enough, I think I'm shrinking even while I struggle to quit smoking. It has to be the stress, it's the only answer. My stress is eating me alive.
D) So...Queen Anne here I come (provided my Dad can float me $600 until next Friday). Apt. guy called me today to confirm that as long as everything on my app. checks out (which it will considering that I'm not a felon/pedophile/lease skipper), I'm first in line to get that apt. I've been running around for all week. Why am I so excited to move into an apt. where you pass the kitchen in the hallway on the way to the bedroom? Because it's right. in. the. middle. of. Queen. Anne. Right in the middle. Like I can walk a few blocks to the Seattle Center, middle. Or, I can walk to the 500 quaint little restaurants on 1st, middle. Or, I can take a jaunt to Key Arena, middle. I don't care that I have to pack away or get rid of, 75% of my belongings because they just won't fit. I don't care that it's something for my parents to bitch at me about because my car might get broken into or it's dangerous down there or it's 15 minutes farther than I am now or what am I going to do if I need something from someone (you'd think I was moving to Billings, MT...but I know it's coming). I don't care that I can't really entertain because there's really nowhere to put anyone. I don't care that the apt. I'm lusting after would fit into my current place three times. I so want to be there.
Highlight of my day? Toss up between finding out that I pretty much have the green light to move to the heart of Seattle and watching the M's lose.
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