Mom

     My mother fell, again, a few days ago. She said that she somehow twisted her foot, she thinks. Or twisted it when she fell. A few weeks ago she fell off the step stool. She doesn't know why that time either. She really hurt herself, and just yesterday she re-hurt herself. She refuses to see a doctor. She said that a few times when in the bathroom, she's almost fallen into the tub. Not in the tub, not taking a shower, but falling into it. Luckily, there's a bar we put outside of the tub for my grandmother when she lost her balance, so that saved her. Of course she didn't tell us when it happened. I knew she got dizzy every once in a while, but she was usually able to keep her balance. She just seems so fragile, walking around all hunched over, in obvious pain. If she can get up at all. She already takes oxycodone for her back. Bad days and good days seem to even out. Right now the bad weigh out the good. When she coughs, her whole body looks like it would shake apart. I'm not ready for my mother to be old and feeble, not that 70 is old, but she sometimes seems old. I'm only 31. Her mother was so strong at 70, and well into her 80s. Gramma met with friends at least once a week, wrote, went on trips, cleaned the house, went on walks, and read the paper from front to back every day. Healthy as a horse as the saying goes. Mom has so many health problems. More than I want to list. They prevent her from doing lots of things. She wasn't always like this. I actually envy her somewhat, of having a mother so strong and healthy at the same age, and she often seems, or is, weak and sick. Maybe I'm over exaggerating. It also makes a difference that her mother was 25 when she had her and my mother was 39 when she had me. When Gramma became really sick, mom was in her 60s. I don't want to feel like I have to take care of her, but sometimes I don't know what she would do if I wasn't here. She has dad of course. Mom thinks she's going to be around for a long time. I honestly don't know.

     I guess I've always been used to her taking care of me. Even taking care of me when I don't want to be taken care of. All children feel this way. I don't want the responsibility yet. Asking why children feel this way, not ready to take care of parents, is self-explanatory. The answer is in the question. It's because it's their parents. Maybe some kids feel like when their parents reach a certain age, they feel they have to take care of them. I remember this episode of "Golden Girls" when Rose's mother came to visit, and Rose treated her like she was a 5-year-old. Her mother was perfectly healthy with all of her mental and physical functions. So what makes children feel differently towards their parents? All people are different. That's the plainest answer. I suppose in a way, it makes me feel older. Older than 31. Perhaps it makes me feel my own mortality. This is what I think I no.
 

   

I Hear Voices

A long time ago, I wrote (by that I mean typed) down some ideas for my blog. I typed them up on a whim, whenever an idea entered my head to explore more later. It may be quite a bit later, but I thought I'd look them up again. This is one idea I wrote down. I don't know what sparked the idea, but thought I'd share it:

You can't let society's voices dominate your life; tell you what to do, how you should feel, how you should be, and especially in order to find happiness. Those who constantly seek happiness in other places outside themselves rarely happens, and usually becomes depressing and demeaning. You can't worry about what other people think about you. "When you try to please everybody, you end up pleasing nobody." Especially yourself. You have to do what makes you happy, not what makes other people happy. I'm not saying to become a total hedonist, although is it really so bad? As long as you do nothing immoral? I think you need to put yourself and your needs, wants, happiness first before anyone else, including a significant other. 

Not that you should discount your lover's happiness, and try to make them happy. As long as you're happy doing it. You can't make them happy if you're not happy. If you're not happy being with them, then you need to let that person go, because it's only fair to yourself and to that person. It may break the other's heart, but you can't do it to them. Hopefully they'll find happiness with someone who is in love with them back. I am speaking partially on personal experience. But those men were not good to me, and I knew I couldn't live that way for the rest of my life. Or theirs, whichever came first. I wasted too much time on each of them. We only get one life, as far as I know, and not long at that. Life is too short to spend years in a loveless relationship, whether on one side or both. I rarely got to do anything I wanted, too busy doing what they wanted. So off with them. I enjoy being single. No one making any demands on my time, dragging me to things I don't want to do, but I try to make them happy. And spend so much time trying to make them happy even if it made me unhappy, and then resenting them for it. I really didn't mean to go off on this tangent. 

What I wanted to talk about was society, and its pressure, and the pressure we put on ourselves. Whether personal, or because it's expected. Are our wants truly our wants, or because it's been ingrained into us, and because it's what we've seen since the day we were born. We're supposed to go to college, find a lucrative job in the field you studied for, get a nice car, get married (preferably to someone from college - your college sweetheart), get a nice house, have children, and it's better if you're a good Christian. Each is an accomplishment of attaining adulthood. If you don't accomplish these things, then it's like you're not quite an adult. I had a lot of these things at one time in my life. A  good job, a nice car, a nice house, some money put away. A couple of fiancés. But then the recession happened and I lost it all. It was also the job I was in. That was after the fiancés. Here no there, I often wonder how much society motivates our goals. Do we purely want them without motivation from outside sources, or because it's, well, like what we're supposed to do? Nature vs. nurture. The everlasting question. This is what I think I no. 

Where is the love?

I just started to bitch to my friend about the stupidity of people, but instead I decided to save her from that and rant and rave on my blog. People have the right to their own opinions and beliefs. However, those opinions can be so ignorant, short-sighted, and narrow-minded. I recently signed a FB petition to designate the Arctic Refuge as a national monument. Being a lover of nature, I think it is highly important to save as much of it as possible before it's all mowed down by big stinky machines to make way for more box houses and strip malls. My cousin ridiculed me for it because he thinks it would be a waste of resources and jobs. Is he really that selfish? Oh god, what would we do without granite countertops? I don't even know if there's granite there; I'm assuming there is, but I think you get the point. Even if we tapped into that, the tap will run dry someday - whether it's oil, or stone to make counters and floors for the rich, or timber. There's not an unlimited supply of that. Haven't people learned yet? Climate change? Oh wait, that's a scam, a bogus theory, a lie. What about the oil spill, huh? What about the 11 human lives that were lost, the countless human lives that were affected, the loss of sea life and nature? What we do to nature we also do to ourselves. Don't forget that the Louisiana wetlands lose about the area of a football field a day because of human interference. I see humans in general as disgusting, despicable creatures. There are some beautiful humans I know; beautiful physically, intelligently, and/or spiritually. Unfortunately, they don't make up for the rest of the damage humans caused. I told my cousin that every animal has as much right to be on this earth than any human. He'll probably read that and think, "Tree-huggin' hippy." That is fine by me. I'd rather be that than a short-sighted, selfish destructor of life that only sees what nature has to offer for my benefit. I don't understand how people do not care. It's that lack of caring that got us here.

Whine, whine. Bitch, bitch.

It's midnight and I don't feel much like sleeping or much like studying. Two things I need to do. All these thoughts keep racing through my head. I have conversations in my head. I tried reading this article and kept reading the first two lines over and over, until I gave up and just let my mind wander. Sometimes I think I have ADD. I try to refrain from writing in my blog until I feel I don't have anything more important or pressing to do, but when you're in school, that never happens. I'm already behind in my reading for sociology and women studies, and it's only the second week. Maybe I'm just not cut out for school. I told my teacher that if I can't get enough money from scholarships to live on my own, I will probably quit school and get a job. I really don't want to, but I can't live here anymore. Carmen drives me batty. Why doesn't she get anything done? Probably the same reasons why I don't get some things done. I make it a bigger deal than it is, I don't want to do it, so I resort to doing nothing but obsess about it. Or I get so busy with other things that need to be taken care of now, that I don't get to it in a more timely manner. But I actually am pretty good about getting stuff done. She never seems to get anything done. It took her 4 or 5 days to do the bills; something that shouldn't take more than half an hour. Then she ended up having to spend 4 times the amount of time doing them because she had to call all the places she was sending bills to to tell them their check would be late, spending lord knows how much time on hold with each call. And then there's the den. WTF? It's been a fucking disaster area with the same shit for over a year since I moved in, and god knows how long before that. And the cats shit in the corners that we can't reach because there's too much shit in the way. I realized the other day that I would be so fucked if she were to get hit by a train tomorrow. I know I've talked about this before with all the shit in the house, but then there's all the stuff that comes with death. I don't know if she has a living will, which I highly doubt she does. I'd think she'd tell me about it. She doesn't have a will period. I know that. Her paperwork is in such a mess (despite the countless hours she spends on it), that I wouldn't know where to begin to call credit cards and whatnot. I don't know what will happen to the house when she dies since it's on a reverse mortgage. I don't think the lender automatically takes it like they used to, but I'm not sure if I can stay in it (if I were still living here), what my dad would do, what I will have to do. Do I have to sell right away? Assuming I can still sell? And what will happen to the money from the sale? I know these are questions I need to ask my mother or the loan officer, but I never feel like I can ask her because she's either doing paperwork, running errands, or she's sick. There are always other things that have to be taken care of right now. Like her goddamn cats. Again, WTF? She knew for months they needed to be fixed at the end of January. It's now the beginning of April, and do you think they're fixed yet? She retaliated that she wasn't able to do anything for a few weeks because of her mother's death, but Gramma died 3 weeks after they should've been fixed! Pearl is finally starting to settle down after being in heat for over a week. Good god! Have you ever been around a cat in heat? It's torture for her and you. I would tell mom to make a to do list, but she'd lose it (the list, not her temper; well maybe her temper too). It's like living with a little child. She and dad started drinking a lot, but I noticed the past couple days that I don't think they've had anything, which makes me feel better. I know it's only two days, but at least it's not constant now. For a while it seemed like every time I saw my mother, she had a glass of wine in her hand. Then she really acts like a child. Whines, throws temper tantrums, pouts, slams doors. And my dad was drinking a lot. I just hope they don't get back into that. Why have children when I have parents?

Explode

I think I'm going to explode. That picture of the mushroom cloud is me. My mother is infuriating. I think she and dad will leave to see Gramma as soon as I get home, but not so. Dad hooked up a 7" portable tv that Carmen got for "us" for Christmas and she was watching some infomercial, looking up more things to buy on the computer, and ads were spread all over. I was sitting watching Golden Girls, waiting for them to leave so I can watch old shows of Rachel and Keith, and she wants to watch QVC for Elvis crap because it's his birthday. I can't watch Rachel and Keith when they're here, because I get a bunch of whining like little spoiled children, "I don't want to watch old news! I want to watch Cold Case. I want to watch current news." I explained to them again and again that I like to watch the old news because then I know how we got to where we are. I could watch the new news, but have no idea how we got there or what's really going on. I also told them there wouldn't be so many old episodes if they would just let me watch the old ones so I can get caught up. Carmen is always watching tv, except when she's sleeping, so it's not like I get a lot of time to watch what I want; especially with school and homework. I told her she has enough crap as it is. We need an oven that works, but she buys an electric fireplace to make the living room "cozy." We need a dishwasher, but she buys a 7" tv that aint worth shit. Not that the tv cost nearly as much as a dishwasher, but that money could've, should've, gone towards a dishwasher! I told her I didn't want her to get me an iPhone because I want that money to go towards an iBook, but instead she gets me this large external hardrive that needs a cord to hook it up so I can back up my stuff on my computer when I get it. That'll be really convenient when I'm at school or a cafe. I sound like I'm on my high horse, but I want something practical and that's also essential, and good quality that hopefully I can use until I'm 35. I told her I rather she send it back and use the money for the computer, but she decides she wants to keep it for herself because she wants to do photography on the computer. Thanks for the Christmas present, mom. She also got me a shirt I don't like and a sweater that's way too big that I really do like, but I don't believe she's sent it back to LL Bean yet, and dad got me pajamas that are way too big. I know I'm fat, but come on guys. She said there's another present for me, but apparently dad hasn't wrapped it yet so they haven't given it to me. There is so much crap in this house you can barely walk through it, but she sits around all day watching QVC and Law & Order and does "paperwork." Honestly, how much time does it take to do paperwork, because I find it pretty fucking hard to believe that it takes all day every day, except when she has to run errands. She wishes I was a better daughter, but I wish to god, oh wait, i don't believe in god, well, i just wish she was a better mother. Set a fucking example! I shouldn't be the one having to tell her that she doesn't need to buy more stuff and to not drink too much and spend time with her mother! or better yet, dead. If i could sell 98% of what this house holds, then sell the house, then buy a nice little condo, that would be sweet. I don't understand daughters that are close to their mothers.

On a happier note, there was no homework due in Spanish today! So I asked my teacher to show me where the audio is that accompanies the lab book. I also had a massage today. Well, back to cleaning. I just had to get that out. Next week I want to see Vagina Monologues at my school. That should be fun. I always wanted to go to a show. I hope my teacher will go so maybe we can sit together, but I can sit by myself.

How do we get to Never Land?

For a long time I felt that people should have to take an aptitude test before becoming parents, but how to keep them from procreating in the mean time eluded me. I finally decided that at birth, all babies should undergo a procedure that can be reversed to inhibit them from procreating until they undergo such an aptitude test. Then, hopefully, only mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially stable and responsible, loving adults would bear children. Kind of like what people go through when they want to adopt. Maybe I'll call this place Neverland. I know someone already thought that one up, but I can't think up everything.

I volunteered for the first time for Volunteer Chore Services for my volunteer requirement for school. What is up with that anyway? I believe volunteering is a great service for oneself and the community, and teaches humility and compassion, but to require it of college students? To study as thoroughly as I need to, to retain at least a good part of what I read, and to spend as much time as I need to on writing assignments to produce my best work, I would need to spend at least 20 hours a week on homework, maybe more. I would like to read everything twice, but I just don't have that kind of time, despite that I don't have a job. And the students who do go to school full time and work? I did that once, but with my seizure disorder I don't know if I could do that again, not that I want to. As it is, I would like to take 4 classes a quarter, volunteer for gay rights, the elderly, planned parenthood or someplace similar to it, and someplace for animals, become more active such as exercising regularly and maybe take a yoga class, read books outside of school, spend time on a hobby, such as knitting, and still have a social life. Again, if I had the money, I would love to visit more museums and see all types of performing arts. Diego has 11 or 12 houses he needs to sell, but because he's so busy with his other companies, he doesn't actively market them. So, I was thinking of doing it for him, like posting them on craigslist and msn. If a house sells from my posting, then I would receive a fee of $500 or so. If I commute by bus everyday, then that adds on at least another 8 hours a week, and then the hours I actually spend in class....and they want to require us to volunteer? I have a hard enough time as it is right now just keeping up with school without all the other things I want to do. I thought we attended a university, not a high school. I also have my own ideas about what should be taught in high school, but I'll save that for another day. Maybe all universities are like that. Enough complaining.

So, we went to this lady's apartment, and it was...nothing like I've seen before. It was in dire condition. She lives in Section 8 housing, and the manager told her if she didn't get her apartment up to code that she will be evicted and will face permanent homelessness. She definitely had hoarder tendencies, but not like people on the show "Hoarders." Those are probably only extreme cases. I helped clean the kitchen. I have two things to say about that - old sour cream in the sink and chicken bones stuck to the counter. That is definitely not what I signed up for (and a selfish part of me thinks we should get double hours for that), but I felt good about myself that I helped a stranger who really needed it. To blow my own horn, I bet not many people are willing to spend their Saturday afternoons like that. If I knew how disgusting it was going to be, I'd do it again.

In my last entry, I wrote about the feeling of something always bearing down on me; making it impossible, or seem impossible, to move forward with life and do things that I want to do instead of taking care of "emergencies" that are part of life. As I read my psych book earlier, I came across this passage that gives little hope for a bright and happy future. I almost found it funny if it wasn't so sad. I actually have experienced all of these already.

"In later life, challenges arise: Income shrinks, work is often taken away, the body deteriorates, recall fades, energy wanes, family members and friends die or move away, and the great enemy, death, looms ever closer."

Is it my mother's fault?

I wonder how much our genes determines our character and behavior and how much our environment does. How do I know how much of my habits and beliefs are genetically inherited from my parents and how much because I learned from them? Would I be who I am if I were raised by someone else? There are so many characteristics I see of theirs that I possess, and many I hope I never do. I have a tendency to be lazy, irresponsible, and procrastinate. That sounds like both of them. My mother received a notice from her home insurance that they will no longer insure the house because of some rather minor faults. Faults I don't think is reasonable to cease insurance, but they are an insurance company. She submitted a claim to replace part of an outside wall thats frame was rotted because of an old leak. Of course they denied it because it was "pre-existing" before she bought the house from my grandmother (sound familiar?). The inspector felt that he needed to relay that the paint was peeling on the outside, the gutters needed cleaning and probably replacing, and there was moss on the roof, thus they stopped coverage. I think to stop coverage over those small issues is unwarranted. My parents are trying to take care of those problems now, and have finished 1 1/2.

That's a picture Gramma and me. One of my favorite pictures. I really used to be thin! I was probably about a size 4. Now I can't fit into a 14. Getting old sucks.

However, I also blame my mother for all of the decay the house fell into. My grandfather died 19 years ago, this month actually...in the middle of my Halloween party...I regress. My grandmother didn't have a clue as to how to take care of a house or finances. She could clean a house, and cook in it, and read in it (always was a big reader), but knew nothing of making claims to the insurance companies, knowing when things needed to be replaced, how dangerous some faulty wiring can be. I wouldn't say the wiring is faulty, but it is over 50 years old. According to Carmen, she didn't even know how to pay bills. My mother never owned a house before, but she was really the only one around to help Gramma. There had to be things that she knew needed fixing, but she was always too busy (I admit I probably had a lot to do with that) and didn't want to deal with it and never got around to it until it became her house. Not wanting to deal with things is another fault of mine that I also find in both of my parents. My grandmother needs to be held accountable too: she could have taken initiative and made some calls, but she was already over 70 when Grampa died and I don't think was ever one to really take care of herself. Even with the rotted framing, Carmen swears she didn't think it was that bad, but it didn't surprise me at all. The paint inside the room, my room, my grandmother's former room, was bubbling out and created a large crack. I knew that something was very wrong and told my (at the time) fiance's mother about it, who's quite savvy when it comes to these things. The first words out of her mouth were, "Call the insurance company." My grandparents used Safeco (who's my mother's insurance until 11/26) for years and never filed a claim. I told Carmen the next day, and do you think she did a damn thing about it? That's a rhetorical question. That was five years ago! Maybe six. There's a good possibility that Safeco would've paid since Gramma owned the house for 35 years! The gutters were originally made of wood, so of course over the years they completely rotted. My dad replaced some of them, but there's still a lot that needs to be done. The oven is probably as old as the house. I'm afraid to turn that thing on. We have no dishwasher. There's not even a hook-up for the dishwasher because the house was built in the mid-fifties. These are all things that should be obvious to anyone, even Sarah Palin, that need to be taken care of. Perhaps not to a 70+ (who's now 90) year old, old-school grandma that never had to deal wtih anything like that and didn't know any better, but Carmen should've been a little wiser.

That damn crap coconut rum she bought gave me a headache, and I only had one drink. But maybe it's not that. It feels like someone took a dowel, poked it in my forehead, a little right of center, and it's going out the back of my skull.

I took a Vicodin and hope that will help. My back also gave me grief all day, so hopefully the Vicodin will help that as well. Enough complaining. It's not good for anything, except to vent some steam once in a while.

Maybe I'm being too harsh on her. Of course she was very upset when she read the letter and called her insurance agent, who can't find another company to cover her because of course they all know that Safeco cut her off. At first I said nothing and kept my eyes glued to Chris Matthews, solely and silently blaming her for her own misfortune. I eventually felt a little bad and told her that I was sorry Safeco did that to her. And I am. But she still shares some of the responsibilities in my eyes. I vowed to myself a while ago that I will always take care of my property, whether it's real estate, or a car, or a pet (tho I don't really consider pets as property, but you get the gist), and to not have it if I can't afford it. A mistake I made myself that cost me dearly, and a mistake both of my parents, and my grandmother made. Now we have an old house almost in disrepair (from my pov), three people who don't have jobs (although my seizures required me to quit my job and I go to school full time now), way too much stuff, and seven cats. Aye, aye, aye.

As closing comments, I want to express my congratulations to Obama, happy birthday to Bo, and my cat, Ligeia.

"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced." ~James Baldwin