Some of you are familiar with The Blogless Wonder, others are not. But in any case, he is no longer known by such a malicious moniker...
So without further ado...
Allow me to introduce my second son, the one that insists I refer to him as my red-headed step-child, Two Foot Onion. You'll have to get him to tell you the story behind his name but he now blogs at The Wonder Formally Known As Blogless on blogspot.
So go give him a hello and make him feel welcome in our world
Despite all the supportive comments and e-mails, I can't say I've been coping real well over the last couple of weeks. In fact, I generally feel like I'm falling apart. Though, I'm sure that was pretty obvious by now.
I put on a good show in front of the people that will remember if I don't, but most days I can't even bring myself to answer the phone. I've been going to work like usual, sometimes a little later than I should be. I've missed a class or two, but nothing that should do any real harm. To most people, the irritations have appeared minor.
In reality, I have been coping by shutting down. I have abanoned people that have needed my support. The blog has gone without much posting. E-mails go unanswered for days or weeks, if they ever get answered at all. My phone runs out of battery before I am willing to even look at it, and the voicemails just keep piling up without ever being heard.
Naturally, I have found myself at a breaking point or two as a result of this unhealthy habit of mine ... That evening in my office where I just had to close the door to make the world go away, or the evening I sat crying by the sink on the floor of a public restroom, or the nights I lay in bed with the tears welling up in my eyes as I pray that the morning will never come, just so that I don't have to put on the mask and face the world again before I'm ready to.
I always knew that shutting down was how I coped, but I couldn't see until now how far away from reality that place really can be. There is a part of me that can see the danger and the red flags in all of this, but that part of me doesn't usually win out. And unfortunately, through all of the abandonment and lack of trust in my short life, I just haven't quite learned anything better.
So I continue on, behind my mask of strength, coping with the negative as best I can despite the flawed methods ... hoping that the sun will soon burn through the clouds and shed the rays of warm sun on my face again.
It is going to take a lot of time for me to accept that my grandmother is gone and that she was stolen away by some selfish prick with nothing better to do than drink his pathetic life away. I'm incredibly angry at life for taking her now, like this, so unfairly.
But even in death there is still a silver lining, of sorts ... I suppose ... In some sick and morbid way, I'm kind of glad that my grandmother died the way she did - she died being who she was - a helper, a doer, and one stubborn lady.
You see, my grandmother was not your typical lady. Her husband died of cancer over 40 years ago, leaving her to raise 3 kids on her own. After that she designed and built the house she lived in for the rest of her life. She was a school teacher with two Masters Degrees and a world traveler that most military personnel couldn't hold a candle to. There are places that today even young men should be careful about traveling to that she brazenly went to over the last 25 years, even as an elderly woman. She followed protocol and custom, always learning about cultures around the world - I found no less than 5 foreign language dictionaries on just one of her bookshelves. She was a ground breaking woman that did what she thought was right, regardless of how difficult it might be.
Even in her death, she will continue to push the limits of what society has accepted as normal. This time, she will be the center of creating a new local legal precedent. The case brought against the other driver will be the first in the county to be prosecuted under new, stricter, and more lengthy maximum punishments. As tough as it will be, I'm am glad that my grandmother, such a strong woman in life, will continue to help her fellow man through her death.
Well, I'm off ... the time has come to head to Kansas to say my final goodbyes.
In the interest of keeping prying eyes off the blog, I don't imagine I'll be doing any posting until I get back. The last thing I need is to let the entire family know about this place all at once.
Those with keys, feel free to keep her warm for the next couple of days.
Naturally, emotions are running high through the whole family right now...
Trying to make arrangements for my grandmother, Dad sat in the very same funeral home that had taken care of his father some 40 years ago, simply by accident. The man across the desk said, "I know your family. My father took care of your father." It was an odd comfort, in a creepy kind of way.
But the creepiest part of all this ...? The step mom...
She flew in last night and will be staying with the whole family in my grandmother's house. My mom and step-mom in the same house ... awesome. But that's not it ... evil stepmom will be sleeping in my grandmother's bed. Maybe I'm the only one that has an issue with this but, in my book, that takes the dysfunctional cake at the moment. She doesn't know a thing about my grandmother, and then there's the fact that my grandmother didn't like a thing about the woman. Over the Christmas holiday, my grandmother did everything she graciously could to avoid going to stepmom's house and only spoke to her when it was impolite not to.
So much for thinking about what grandma would have wanted...
Thank you to all those who have offered their thoughts and prayers, sympathies and condolences. This whole situation doesn't quite feel real just yet.
Everyone expects that their grandparents (and eventually parents) will pass, it is a part of life that cannot be avoided. It is hard to watch as a body fails those we love, but the body is a fragile thing that just gives out after a while.
I remember being at my great-grandfather's funeral when I was a young child and I remember how it felt when my great-grandmother died 12 years ago, but I've never lost a family member that I am used to spending holidays and special events with.
When my great-grandfather passed I was too young to have any real emotion - in fact, I don't even know how he died. When my great-grandmother passed I remember feeling relieved. She had spent years in a nursing home, suffering with worsening dementia and Lord knows what else. She went to breakfast one morning and fell asleep at the table, where she peacefull passed and went onto a better place.
But this time ... my grandmother was a relatively healthy woman for her age, remarkably so, in fact. Her body was slowly beginning to fail in ways that her peers had experienced years before. She had a good 5 years left of her life to enjoy before she could be expected to suffer the 'hell of getting old.'
I don't ordinarly get angry when someone dies, but this time is different. She didn't reach the natural failure of her body, she was killed. Life brought to her, and to our family, a senseless, meaningless, stupid death that no one deserves.
I keep sitting here trying to reconcile my feelings on this but I keep coming back to the thought that my grandmother's life was stolen away ... she was nothing short of murdered by a selfish man who could think no farther than himself when he got behind the wheel of his truck that night.
I got a phone call from my dad last night at 3:30 am. He called to tell me that he and my brother had landed ... they were going to visit my grandmother for the weekend. But that was all he could say before the line went quiet and he handed my brother the phone.
He told me something had happened. I didn't learn the details until this morning.
My grandmother never showed up at the airport last night to pick them up. They called the police to go check on her, but she wasn't at her house. Before they knew anything else, they got a call from the Chaplain at the hospital - my grandmother had been in an accident.
She was hit head-on by an oncoming truck that came into her lane - Carolla vs S-10. Despite her good driving record and her new, safe, little car, the drunk driver was stronger. He fled the scene on foot but was later apprehended by the police.
I had hoped to hear she died instantly, but she had a pulse at the scene. She died either enroute or shortly after getting to the hospital, but before my dad and brother could make it there. My brother said she looked ok though - no largely traumatic injuries that could be seen at least.
But as if a car accident weren't a bad enough way for an elderly person to go, she died alone. That is the hardest thing for me to take right now. She lived alone, she always felt like no one was paying attention to her, and now she has died alone.
My dad has asked me to stay put until the services but none of those arrangements have been made.
Blog bro RSM asked me to do a little guest blogging for him while he was away for the weekend ... but it seems someone else got to his place first ...
I think I'll go see if I can't make myself at home anyway ;o)
UPDATE: Or not... I can't seem to get the log-in page to come up ...
This morning, I was almost hit by a car.
I stepped into a crosswalk I use every day, confident that I had looked both ways. Apparently I hadn't. But somehow, on some level, I knew that the car was there when I walked into the street ... because there was no panic when I looked to my left and saw a car drawing closer. I stood there calmly, waiting to see if he would stop in time or swerve around me as he angrily gestured in my direction.
He stopped. I walked.
This evening, I walked past a girl sitting on the sidewalk with her arms and head on her knees - her pants and underwear pulled down to mid-thigh.
I walked past the girl, unaware of how long she'd been sitting there or how hold she was, and unable to stop. She was not using the sidewalk as her personal toilet, she was sitting with her naked skin on concrete. It was one of the most unnatural scenes I have ever run across.
I panicked. I walked ... quickly.
Tonight, I received an annonymous Valentine's Day gift.
Sitting on my kitchen table was a box from 1-800-flowers. The card read:
I couldn't have this delivered on Valentine's Day but this is your present from me. Since I don't have a girlfriend I wanted to give you something instead.It was unsigned. I opened the box and found a teddy bear, dressed in biker gear. I know only two people that like bikes, one of which didn't send it, the other of which doesn't know my full name. I am at a loss for who could have sent it, and hoping that it wasn't any of those I am hiding from.
I am well and deeply freaked by today.
Valentines to come,
Valentines to pass,
Just take a moment,
and please kiss my ass...
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby, yeah
Take another little piece of my heart, oh oh, oh oh
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby
You know you got it
If it makes you feel good
You're out on the street lookin' good
Baby deep down in your heart
You know that it ain't right
No, you never, never, never, never hear me cry
Cry no, I cry, I cry all, all the time yeah
Each time I tell myself
That I can't stand the pain
You hold me in your arms
And I'll say it once again
Come on, come on, come on, come on, ay
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby yeah
Take another little piece of my heart oh (take it)
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby
You know you got it
If it makes you feel good, ooh, yeah
Come on, come on, come on ooh
Oh you take a peice of me
When you take my heart
Oh baby
You know you got it
If it makes you feel good
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby yeah (take it)
Take another little piece of my heart oh oh
Take another little piece
Of my heart now baby
You know you got it
If it makes you feel good yeah
Take a piece of my heart
Maybe this is just my weekend to bitch, but...
How is is possible that the very same world that created wonderful, caring, and selfless people like Blackfive, Andi, ArmyWife, etc can also create people without any real grasp on the concept of compassion?
You know the people I'm talking about ... the people that aren't necessarily mean on purpose, they are just so inwardly focused that they kind of suck to talk to. The people that are appalled and offended that you would dare accuse them of being empathetically impaired ... Yeah, you know the ones I mean - the ones that can only see their own feelings and blame the you for why they can't see yours.
Someone just tell me how it is all possible. Because I still don't get it...
Why is it so easy for some people to treat others poorly?
Friday was just not a good day at work. I finally reached a boiling point after a long series of run-ins with the USN CAPT that I work with and ended up closing the door to my office so I could sit and cry the stress out.
It was an early morning - one, because of our conference but two, because our first presenter, the CAPT, wasn't done making his powerpoint by the time I left work on Thursday. I had to show up early to run through it with him because I am the techie intern ... Naturally, he wasn't ready when I showed up and thus the timeline for getting our attendees into the conference was delayed and I had to run around like a chicken with my head cut off to get everything coordinated.
The conference timeline was completely jacked. First, because of our delay in getting the attendees into the building, second because the CAPT (and POC for the conference as a whole) gave a terrible and lengthy "brief" that pushed the entire timeline back. And of course, it was on a day that I needed to be across town for lunch... More running...
When I finally was able to read my email and listen to voicemail at 2pm, there were important tasks for me to handle ... and I jumped right in. But someone else had other plans...
In the middle of a phone call, discussing one of our important databases and the needs of another agency for using it CAPT barged into my office. I assumed he'd leave once he realized I was on the phone, for business purposes ... but he didn't. So I asked the person if they could hold on.
CAPT had me put the other agency on hold while he asked if I could do his photocopying. And not just photocopying ... photocopying of select pages of a large document ... and NOW. I explained that I was in the middle of important business and he explained he needed the copying done yesterday and the other intern was gone for the weekend already. I was to do what he needed NOW.
In my head: If it's so damn important, why didn't you ask me yesterday...?
I ended up having to call the other agency back so that he could get his copies. And then ... when I finished (within his 20 minute deadline), he wasn't in his office. AND, he left the office without ever saying a word to me.
Now can anyone explain to me why it is necessary to treat another person that way? There is no reason you need to be rude to people in a situation like that. There is no excuse for being so condescending.
I just don't get it...
Bonus points for anyone that can guess what time I left work today...
:-\
UPDATE:
That 1 Guy pretty much nailed it. I finally left work about 00:15.
I had gotten up at 05:00 and arrived at work by 07:15.
Talk about cheap labor...
I walked into the house this evening, coming home straight from 11 hours at work ... with a relatively short commute ... and I still set foot inside my door only to mark less than 11 hours until I had to be back at work.
Dinner, laundry, ironing, attempt at a life, job applications...
... shower, hair, make up, breakfast, rush hour commute ...
Unpaid
AWESOME
I've always been one that is really hot at night...
No no, you dirty boys, my body temperature rises while I'm sleeping. I usually keep my room a little cooler than I could tolerate fully clothed & awake, just because I'll overheat and can't sleep if I don't. More than once I've had a boyfriend ask me if I was feeling ok in the morning because he thought I had a fever the night before.
So that being said...
What the crap is this whole night sweats thing I've got going on lately? I'm 25 freakin years old! I wake up a couple of hours before my alarm is supposed to go off and I'm covered in sweat ... head to toe. I don't feel overly warm and I am able to go back to sleep reasonably quickly, I'm just all wet ...
But this waking up twice thing has really got to stop
I think this is where I find out if all this "education" has made me employable.
Somehow, I think I'm screwed...
Update: 9:15 PM
After 2 hours, 17 conversations, and 12 resumes ... either I have a lot of smoke blown up my skirt, which would be really embarassing to have happen (again), or it wasn't an entirely unsucessful afternoon.
At least four of the potential employers appeared interested enough to pursue an application...
Last night was another very sucessful blogmeet ... but I must admit being the guilty party to mess part of it up. While the restaurant messed up the reservation all on their own, it is my fault that Jen & company were not in attendance. Looking back at the mailing, her email address is not in the list ... dammit. Sorry all!! Guess it really is all in the details, isn't it? I can't take the blame for the Cranky Neocon though ... he was just MIA.
Our full list of guests that DID arrive included: Blogeline & her husband (Blogeline's Journal), Buckethead (Ministry of Minor Perfidy), Goddess Dawn (Caterwauling), Lysander (Lysander of Alexandria), Robert (Llama Butchers), Victor (Publius & Co), Nic (Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax), Ted & his wife & daughter (Rocket Jones), and the Wonder Formerly Known As Blogless.
Personally, I got a huge kick out of playing tetris with the tables. But then again, I was stuck in a corner where I couldn't move any of the tables. I think those that were doing the moving and being moved stopped seeing the humor after the second time ... maybe the third ... but certainly by the fourth.
I just read Tammi's post about her issues with food. It made me incredibly sad ... because I too have issues with food. I guess a lot of people do. But even a good face can't erase the food demons. The body image demons scream even louder most days.
You see, I grew up the fat girl. I have never known what it was like to be skinny. There are pictures of me as a kid before I was old enough to be in school where I am thin. But once you get to the third and fourth grade, the time that I can begin to remember, the pictures portray a fat girl. The teasing that I remember was aimed at a fat girl.
When I was young, it was "baby fat" that I would "grow out of" ... but I never did. By junior high, I wore clothes from Lane Bryant. I was not in fashion, for any age group, let alone my own. In order to find a dress for my 8th grade graduation I had to go to a special "fat lady" store. My dress was a Woman's 1X. I looked like I was wearing a big pink tent with lace.
The weight just kept coming on. I was as awkward as any freshman I suppose but my anxiety and depression made me feel like I was the only one. Compounded by the fact that I didn't really have any friends to speak of. By my sophomore year, I was at Weight Watchers meetings every Saturday morning. They helped a little, but not much ... and certainly not in a lasting way. My prom dress was more black fabric than I ever hope to see again. Again, not even close to fashionable for prom.
I'm sure there are a lot of factors that contributed to the reason why, but the weight just never went away. Before I knew it, I weighed 215 pounds. And at only 5'9" ...
Over a year and a half or so I was able to lose a total of 50 pounds by learning to like new types of food, by learning to give into a craving with a bite (not a whole cake), by being conscious of not only what I was eating but how I was eating and realizing the psychological effect of foods.
Most of those 50 pounds has stayed off ... but not all of it ... and I want to lose 25 more, at least.
I have massive anxiety about eating with people I don't know very well. At parties or gatherings with strangers, I hardly eat a thing because I feel the eyes watching, judging, waiting to tell me that my food choices are why I am so fat. At get togethers with a buffet, I've been known to be too scared to get my own food and had a boyfriend get it for me.
There are still days that I take out my contacts or refuse to put on my glasses, just so I don't have to see myself naked in the mirror. I hate myself naked. I disgust myself. I only have boobs because of the fat. I am a hideous pear. I have more stretch marks than some women who've had three kids. No amount of exercise will give me a flat, toned midsection. The extra skin and kangaroo pouch are a permanent reminder of my painful, lost youth. My body is forever ruined. I will never know the simple pleasure of living in a young, nubile body.
Some days I ask myself, why watch what you eat if you'll never be who you want to be? And those are the days I'm glad I don't keep much food in my house.
For those readers in the DC Metro area that haven't heard yet - blogmeet ... Saturday... email me for the details.
Agenda for the evening: Plans - Taking Over World
...I've been asking myself that question for the last 5 days... And then what? The pain, the anger, the confession... And then what?
I've had a really hard time recovering from the spewing of my deepest secret last week. I mean, really ... How does one return to regular blogging after that? It all seems just a little too blah to be read about once the underbelly has been exposed.
Truthfully, I've gone into hiding since last week. Not just on the blog but on email for the most part and via phone. I know I've upset a few people and made others worry far more than necessary, but I have felt very raw. I know everyone that cares about me means well, but I haven't been ready for the "so how are you doing" conversations just yet.
I just want to feel normal again but now I know that everyone knows my struggle. How do you feel normal when everyone else knows your daily life is an emotional roller coaster, no matter how strong a face you put on it?
So I suppose I'm working on "normal"...