Vent Session

I’ve already blogged about my batshit-insane sister here.  But my friends, that is just the TIP of the iceberg.

To put it mildly, my oldest sibling (and therefore, matriarch of the family since our mom died) drives me to destruction.  At her everyday state, she makes me want to take tequila shots, stab my eyeballs out with a dull No. 2 pencil, and slowly tug all bodily hairs from the root at a snail’s pace.  At her best, she’s tolerable, even lovable, provided she’s taken her daily dose of anti-psychotic meds.

Lately, ever since her “affair” really, she’s just been the biggest pain in my ass.  Hell, not only my ass, but also towards her daughter, her husband, our other sister, and other general people who are unfortunate enough to cross her path.  She’s more egotistical, self-centered, and crass than ever.  Her mention of the affair to me drove a wedge between what was at best an already shaky sisterly relationship.  I just couldn’t get behind her decision to be manipulative, deceiving, and selfish.  I made no mistake with my stance on it either — I firmly told her that I loved her, but that I did not support her decision.  I felt that the least she could do was be honest with her husband and daughter, thereby limiting the amount of nuclear fallout once the truth was evident.  But she disagreed with my advice.

The affair carried on for months.  Exactly how long, who knows.  I got sporadic emails for a while until they tapered off.  Then, suddenly, one arrived with the news that she’d broken off the affair — and she didn’t want to talk about it.  She hoped I understood.  She said “Suffice it to say, he’s picked the wrong person to screw with.”  (Ed. Note:  My guess?   He finally realized just how totally crazy she is and he cut the cord before he could get in any deeper.  But that’s just my opinion…)  The phone calls between us became less and less frequent until all of a sudden, we hadn’t spoken a word in 2 months.  It was quite unusual, but I was busy with life and to-do lists, and then…B proposed.

She was my second phone call — after the first one to our other sister who is, by all accounts, much more sane and gracious — to share the news.  Her response?

“Wait, what?  He did?  Wait a second, do you actually have an engagement ring or did he just ask you without one?”

After I assured her that yes, I did indeed have an engagement ring, and yes, I could send her a picture text of it, she said to me:

“Well shit.  I have no news that could top that.”

My thought?  Why would you want to?  But I digress.

Her less than enthusiastic response, coupled with her less than stellar sisterly skills (she hurried off the phone and said she needed to get back to what she was doing) prompted me to just stop talking to her.  Why make the rounds of phone calls to people who will only drag you down?

Out of nowhere, this past weekend, I got a rather long-winded email from her.  For the first six paragraphs or so (but who’s counting?) of her relating her troubles, going on and on for kilobytes and kilobytes about her work conflict (there’s always a conflict with her), and finally saying “I’m so glad you’re FINALLY getting married” (her emphasis on Finally, not mine), she proceeded to start making wedding requests.  Such as “would it be okay if whoever escorts you down the aisle speaks up for [our other sister] and I?  Like, when the officiant says ‘who gives this woman away?’ could he answer ‘her sisters and I do?’” 

Ughhhhhhhhhhh

Afterwards, she proceeded to ask me if B and I would mind taking a trip to Maryland to help her re-tile her basement floors.

After picking my jaw up from the ground, it took me two days to just think of a decent response.  My choice?  I basically informed her that I would be escorting myself down the aisle — no need to have someone stand in our father’s rightful place — and that no, since they were not contributing to the wedding, they could not take credit for it.  As in, usually the response to the above referenced question indicates who is hosting the wedding.  Also, I totally ignored her request for help with the re-flooring.

A couple of years back, during one of the many times she gave me shit for not being engaged yet, she made a startling offer.  When I expressed worry over how B and I would ever be able to AFFORD a wedding, she said “I can’t speak for our other sister, but I’d love to help contribute to the cost of your wedding dress.”  I stored that little nugget away for later.

Now?  Just when I’ve dropped the SECOND mention on the cost of my wedding dress, she has decided to inform me “I’ve been on my own my whole life.  Get used to it.  Just do the best with what you’ve got.”  Yes, I can appreciate her advice, but I’m not crazy.  I didn’t IMAGINE the above conversation all those years ago.

I’m sorry, but it only makes sense that those who do not CONTRIBUTE don’t get to make RIDICULOUS REQUESTS.  My friends and bridesmaids say “She’s just not happy with her own life” or “She has a tendency to make everything about HER” or “I think she’s jealous of you and your happiness.”

And I say to them “She’s 44.  It’s time to GROW UP.”

I swear…eyeballs.  No. 2 pencil.  I’m just sayin’.

It’s a great (WTF) Wednesday…

I’m going to skip the pleasantries and get right down to it.

1.  WTF is up with rude ass salespeople?  Why is it always the hard sell?  Why can’t I ask you any questions?  Why can’t I get a word in edge-wise?  AND WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M A STUPID, YOUNG, CHILDISH IDIOT WHO DOESN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL EVER?!  Go to hell.

2.  WTF is up with people having no manners?  Whatever happened to saying “Hi, how are you?” and then actually WAITING TO HEAR THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION?!  If you don’t want to know how I’m doing, well then motherfucker, don’t bother asking.

3.  WTF is up with my fiance’ not answering his cell phone today?  Now come on, baby, you’ve improved at this skill, even (GASP!) calling me first most of the time, but why today?  Why now?  Why, when I’m already having a bad day do you decide to not answer any of my couple (several, thousand, whatever) phone calls?  ANSWER YOUR GOD DAMN PHONE.

4.  WTF is up with the housing market?  You know, not that we want to sell right now, because we don’t, but we’d really like to refinance.  Our interest rate is higher than it should be, and with the government having lowered interest rates repeatedly over this year in order to help homeowners out, and since our credit scores have improved, we would really like to get it lowered.  Only, it costs so much money to refinance!  AND, housing values have fallen, leaving us wondering if we’ll even be able to get our house appraised for enough $ to get a refinance.  We’ve only been there two years, and we lost our equity in the home when the housing values fell.  WHY THE FUCK CAN’T WE JUST GET A NEW PRESIDENT NOW SO THAT HE CAN HELP ALLEVIATE HOMEOWNERS PAIN?!  GAH!

5.  WTF is up with my boss wanting me to do 1.9 million things?!  My job description ain’t got NOTHIN’ on my actual job duties.  I was LIED TO.  I was DECEIVED.  My work load has increased so dramatically that it’s official:  There.Aren’t.Enough.Hours.In.The.Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (You:  And yet here you are, blogging on WordPress, as if that’s going to alleviate the situation.  Me:  Shut up.)

Ijustwanttogohomeandcrawlunderthecoversandnotcomeoutuntilit’s2009.  So much for 2008 being better.

It sucks balls right now.

Sick.

!@#$!  That about sums up how I am feeling today.  Pissed off, emotional, sick.  Sore throat, painful ears, body aches.  I’m so fucking tired of being sick I could just scream.  I’m stressed out (over my job).  I’m irritated (with myself).  I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and fucking hibernate.  I want the whole world to go away, leave me the hell alone for 5 minutes, and just let me get better.

At 7:30 this morning, I laid on my bed, face done up with makeup, hair dripping wet.  Tears streaming down my cheeks, just not feeling well.  I tried to call B.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.  No answer.  I debated calling out of work, but the thought of having to deal with hearing my boss’s exasperation was too much to bear.  I’ve called out sick one time, and she was so audibly annoyed with me that I started to feel terribly guilty.  Then I remembered — wait a second, you’re fucking sick.  She’s just going to have to get over it.  However, this morning I dragged my tired, sore ass out of bed and finished getting ready.  I tried to call B on my way to work again.  No answer.

Why the fuck couldn’t he just pick up the phone?  I just needed to hear his voice, to hear him say “I’m sorry you feel sick, baby.”  I know he’s probably busy, but it’s annoying.  I think I’m more annoyed at the fact that I’m sitting at my desk because I’m too scared of calling out sick to my boss.  Maybe I’m just annoyed with myself.

This blog entry sucks.  My blog sucks lately.  Everything sucks. 

(In)ettiquette?

Let’s say hypothetically I’d been working at my job for 6 months, and I just got a raise.  Let’s say hypothetically I work for a rather large company where things like raises have to go through multiple chains of command, all the way from my boss to her boss to her boss to her boss, and so on and so forth.  Let’s say hypothetically my boss discussed my evaluation and raise with me in the middle of February, never indicating what it would amount to, and I’ve been waiting around for news of this raise since then.  Let’s say hypothetically that I took a look at my most recent pay-stub and determined that said raise was finally approved.  Let’s say hypothetically that said raise amounted to an increase of 2% over my previous salary.  Let’s say that hypothetically I was told the reason the raise was the amount it was is because I’ve only been here for 6 months. 

Is it safe to assume that hypothetically a “normal/regular” raise for this company would be 4%? 

Hypothetically, is it bad that I didn’t sound too enthusiastic when my boss called me to inform me of said reasons, even though YES OKAY IT’S AN INCREASE IN MONEY, but hello, the amount it comes to after federal and state taxes, social security, and FICA take their chunk, makes it mere dollars?!  Plus, let’s say that hypothetically I’ve been kind of shafted from the get-go, since my job duties were very much under-represented in my interview process and I’ve been responsible for much more work than they had initially suggested.

Have I shown bad ettiquette, ya know, HYPOTHETICALLY?!

Ugh.

Dysfunction at its finest

My sister is having an affair.

She’s been married to my brother-in-law for nearly 17 years.  But they’ve been together for 20.  She first told me about The Other Man in January.  I had suspected something for a while.  Just the way she talked about him was enough to raise eyebrows and suspicions.  Something seemed not right about it.  Like they were more than friends.

She confirmed my thoughts on the day she called me in hysterics, needing information.  She wanted me to check the list of confirmed dead in the War on Terror to see if he’d been killed.  See, he’s in the National Guard and has been stationed in Iraq for the last two years.  Judging by the tone in her voice, coupled with her anxiety and unfounded fear, I was able to determine that there was much more to their “friendship” than she was letting on.  I was able to let her know that no, he was not dead, at least not according to the list that day.  Once he had touched base with her (he’d only been moved to a different part of Iraq and was unable to communicate with anyone for a few days) she calmed down and went back to her normal self.  I let a few days pass before I asked her why she had freaked out so horribly, noting “no one freaks out that badly over someone unless it’s family or someone they love.”  She said nothing.  When I prompted her to spill it, her response was “I can’t answer that question.  It’s too hard.”  That was all I needed to hear.

My brother-in-law has been in my life for as long as I can remember.  He first came around when I was just 3 years old.  He’s more of a brother to me than my own brother is (another story for another day).  He’s been with our family through a lot, and he has never run off.  But now, their marriage is falling apart and my sister is running for the hills.  She’s written it off as a desperate attempt to reclaim her life, stating that she has been unhappy for a long time.  But it’s more than that.  She will be 44 years old next month (Editor’s Note: My parents had me later in life and she is their first born).  I see it as more like a mid-life crisis of sorts.  My sister’s only child, my niece, is a freshman in college and had been gone from home since last summer.  Now that they’ve found themselves alone and without a common goal (ie: their child) they’ve discovered they don’t know what to do with all of their time.

I don’t pretend to understand all the dynamics of their marriage.  It would be a shoddy understanding at best.  But what I do know is that I believe in the marriage vows they took all those years ago, and that I don’t believe in adultery.

I’m firm on that one.

I’ve struggled over the last two months with the knowledge that I possess about the affair.  I feel guilty about it.  I feel guilty because my niece, who I am closest to family-wise does not know about it.  I am scared that it will come out that I knew all along and she will resent me.  But it is not my place to spread the dirt.  I didn’t tell B for the longest time until one day, I blew my top over it and lost control.  I’m angry with my sister for what she’s doing!  I’m angry at how selfish and self-serving she has turned out to be.  Mostly I’m angry because I feel she’s playing both ends to get twice the benefits.

She has been carrying on an emotional affair with The Other Man for God knows how long.  I don’t want to know.  It’s mostly through the phone and emails that this has carried on.  But he comes home from Iraq for good next month, and will retire.  My sister claims that they are going to “go away together” to “discuss plans” and “see where it takes them.”  I urged her to be honest with her husband, to tell him that she intends to leave him.  When she finally did, she was only half-truthful, which only angered me even more.

During one of their many conversations on the state of things in their marriage, my sister finally blurted out “I’ve had enough.  I’m leaving.  I can’t take it anymore.”

“What?  When?  Where will you go?” he asked her.

“I don’t know.  I haven’t figured it out yet,” she explained.

“For how long?  A week?  A month?  A year?”

“I don’t know, but I’m leaving at the end of the summer.”

Upon telling me about this exchange, I erupted, “You have to tell him the TRUTH!  He thinks you’re going on a mental vacation!  You’re leaving him for good.  You owe him the truth.”

He asked her if there was another man.  She lied. 

He asked her if she was coming back.  She said she wasn’t sure, another lie.

And then, the clincher.  He noted that she would need health insurance, and that he would keep her on it while she is off “taking a break.”  She agreed to accept that!

 Pardon me for my own opinions and balls to discuss them, but are you serious?  You’re leaving your husband of 17 years for another man and you will allow him to pay for your health insurance when you know you’re never coming back?!

While discussing this with B last night, totally disgusted, I said “Why the end of summer?  Why doesn’t she just leave him now?”

“Because, she’s not sure where this is going, or even if it’s going anywhere.  She wants to make sure she’s got a way to come back if things don’t work out.”

Yesterday she sent me an email:

“I have a message for you. [The Other Man] wanted me to let you know that if you ever want to talk to him, about his intentions with me, or about anything in general, feel free to ask him.  He’s cute, it’s almost like he’s asking permission.”

I was so angry.  Why would I want to give him permission?  Not only am I not interested, but I think she enjoys all the attention.  I will not give her any more attention on the matter, especially not by emailing The Other Man and making nice.

If I had the balls, I would email him and say:

“I’ve heard a lot about you.  I’ve seen how my sister freaks out when she doesn’t get a call from you.  She freaked out more over that than she did about her husband’s birthday, which is tomorrow, by the way.  If you’re looking for my approval, you’re never going to get it.  What does it say about your character that you’re okay with having an emotional affair with a married woman?  To me it says that you’re no better than any other person guilty of adultery.”

My sister used to work with The Other Man.  They were friends before this all began.  They haven’t seen each other the whole time the emotional affair has been taking place.  But they will see each other next month.  She’s acting like an immature, hormone-crazed teenager.  She keeps moving and deleting MySpace accounts with false information on them.  She leaves little love-sick notes on his MySpace (that’s right, I found it).  She’s not even being careful about it.  People aren’t stupid.  They’ll find out about it.  Hell, I barely had to try at all, before I knew it, I knew all the salacious details.  I don’t think she’s prepared for the fall-out:  how angry her daughter will be at her, what people will say, how friends will turn their backs on her, etc.

Without even trying, she has changed my entire opinion of her.  We used to be close, but I find myself avoiding her phone calls and ignoring her emails.  I’ve already expressed to her that I disapprove — that I will not condone or support her affair.  When she came to visit me last month, all she talked about was him.  Having remembered something my BFF said to me (”Maybe she just likes all the attention.”) I ignored everything that came out of her mouth and refused to pay it any attention or respond to it.  When she finally left that Sunday, I was emotionally drained and totally exhausted from the whole experience.

I just feel bad for my brother-in-law and my niece.  And for myself, for ever having asked her for the truth.

The one where I use too much profanity

Blah.

That is how I feel.  Seriously, I’m so tired of winter and cold weather and wind whipping my hair into knots and slapping me in the face with its rude abrasiveness.  I am SO.OVER.IT.  As I crossed the street this morning into my building where I work, I thought to myself “Fuck you, February.  FUCK YOU.”

February is such a bust.  Yeah, there’s Valentine’s Day, and even my birthday, but then what?  I never did hear what happened with the Ground Hog, but I’m assuming that furry little motherfucker saw his shadow and ran back into his hole for another 6 long ass weeks of winter.

I’ve got the winter blues.  The hum-drum doldrums.  It’s depressing.  I feel as though I’ve got nothing to look forward to.  Last Saturday was a blessing that allowed me to wear my flip flops (!) all day long, and enjoy sunshine and warm air on my face.  But now…now winter has decided to just screw with me and make me a grumpy bitch.

It’s not just the weather though.  B is in a mood.  He’s been in a mood for days.  Maybe he’s annoyed with the winter too.  We have been nitpicking with each other over stupid things for the last few days.  Last night was great, but we’re both so exhausted that we don’t have the energy to do more than snuggle under a blanket and watch tv.  My birthday was so utterly depressing.  This Saturday will hopefully make up for it when me, B, and some of our closest friends get together for dinner and drinks and hanging out.  Let’s hope so.

How are you all coping with this crap-tastic weather?

25

Yesterday was my 25th birthday.

My birthdays have never been the stuff of dreams, if we’re being totally honest here.  Something always seems to go wrong.  Growing up, my father forgot my 18th birthday.  Once, I had a mandatory cheerleading practice to attend, as my birthday fell on the night before a major competition, and my parents asked me to skip it.  As captain, I couldn’t.  When I returned home late that night, there was a cake on the counter with a note that said “happy birthday.”  My parents had gone to bed, angry at me.  Children tend to remember things like that.

On my 16th birthday, just days after B and I started dating, he ignored me.  My feelings were hurt, and a week later, I learned it was because he was nervous and felt bad about not getting me a birthday present.  On my 22nd birthday, he couldn’t be there because our long-distance relationship made birthdays in the middle of the week inconvenient.  Last year, on my 24th birthday, everything was going amazing until someone started an argument at my party and my friend stormed out, leaving us not speaking to each other for three months.

Situations such as these can easily cause one to dread such an event.  Turning 25 was also not exactly something to look forward to. 

Yesterday started off badly.  First, B woke me up to say goodbye before he left for work.  I had off, it being President’s Day and all.  He hurriedly kissed me on the forehead, but did not utter “Happy Birthday.”  I stared at him, quite visibly confused. 

“What’s wrong?  Bad dream, baby?” he asked.

I just shook my head and went back to sleep.  Is it possible my boyfriend forgot my birthday?!

I slept until 8:30 and got up to make some breakfast for myself.  Our dog had gone through the trash in the middle of the night, dragging it into the dining room, hallway, and living room.  Muttering obscenities below my breath, I thought to myself It’s already starting.  The shithole that is my birthday.  Go figure.  I decided to make the most of my day off and get some cleaning and laundry done.  When I attempted to start a load of laundry, I noticed that B had left his laundry from the night before in both the washer AND dryer.  Now, this would normally not be a huge deal, and under normal circumstances, I would just be kind and finish it for him.  But the night before this, the following conversation took place:

“Honey, when you do your laundry today, please make sure to start it early so that I can have the washer and dryer free tomorrow to wash my clothes and all the linens.  It’s going to take me a while,” I asked of him.

“Sure, no problem, babe.”

Only, he waited until the last minute to start his laundry on Sunday and he had run out of time.  Halfway-damp clothes were wrinkling in the dryer while completely wet clothes were growing mildew in the washer.  Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air and cursed his laziness.  Empowered by anger (at turning 25?  at my boyfriend forgetting my birthday? whatever.) I pulled his clothes out of the washer and left them in a damp heap on the floor.  Then I pulled his clothes out of the dryer and place them in a semi-damp heap on the floor next to the wet clothes.  Then I proceeded to start my laundry.  I thought to myself I’ll teach you to take me for granted, motherfucker.

At around 10 a.m., happily ensconced between two massive pillows, a pile of blankets, and my dog, my cell phone rang.  My first official Happy Birthday phone call!  It was bff.  We talked for about 25 minutes, then I proceeded to catch up on some sweet dvr’d television, enjoying my breakfast.  As the day proceeded, and I made not one, but two calls to B, I determined that he had, in fact, forgotten about my birthday.  And so had everyone else it seemed.  Aside from my family and two friends, I had not received any “happy birthday” phone calls or text messages.

Growing despondent, I felt like a child, pouting and sad.  So I decided to really amp up the “sad pathetic child” factor and put on some depressing music.  In the next couple of hours, I managed to wash all the dishes, do most of my laundry, clean up the house, and organize my closet.  I checked my cell phone probably hundreds of times, but it was quiet.  By the time B got home from work (with an ice cream cake - wait, he must have remembered sometime during the day), I was sitting in my comfy chair with a book, reading. 

“What’s wrong, doll?  You look so down,” he said.

“It’s… umm…  It’s my birthday,” I mustered.

“I know it is.  I brought you an ice cream cake!”

He eventually managed to make me laugh by reenacting one of our favorite scenes from the stand-up comedy we’d watched the night before.  But I couldn’t shake the feeling of being totally forgotten and looked over.

There were some close friends I expected to hear from that did not contact me.  Did they forget?  Two in particular left me messages on my MySpace account.  I’m sorry, but when did Facebook and MySpace become the appropriate venue for apologizing, congratulating, and wishing someone a happy birthday?  What ever happened to a phone call, or hell, even a text message?

I’m one year older, but perhaps not any wiser than I was this time last year.  I feel like a spoiled brat who is pouting that no one came to her slumber party.  I know B felt awful because for the rest of the night he tried to make me laugh and forget about it.  I even saw him checking my phone, then his phone immediately after.  I think he was even curious as to what happened to all of our friends.  I decided not to say anything to anyone about it, but really, I just needed to get it off my chest.

It sucks to be forgotten about.

But to change the tone of this entry, a list:

In 25 years, I have:

*owned three cars and wrecked two (but not by my own fault)

*lived in two states

*attended 3 elementary schools, one middle school, one high school, and one university

*kissed 9 boys

*slept with 1 boy

*been in the in-crowd, booted out of it, then said fuck it all together

*lived in 7 cities

*been to Ocean City, MD more times than I can count

*traveled to California, North Carolina, Florida, and New Jersey

*never traveled outside of the country

*graduated with honors from two schools

*broken 3 cell phones by throwing them

*owned approximately 12 cell phones, including the very old Motorola that weighed about 5 pounds

*been in love once

*fallen out of love once

*had my heart stolen once, by someone I least expected

*lived in 4 apartments, and bought my own house

*owned 8 dogs and 6 cats

*discovered I will never be patient, and that I will always trust people until they give me a reason not to

*learned a lot about who I want to be, but not enough about who I truly am

I’m 25.  Holy shit.

Eyes Wide…Open

It’s such a bitch when you find out that you didn’t know someone as well as you thought you did.  It’s also such a bitch when you learn that a friendship wasn’t as good as you thought it was.

I hate to sound melodramatic, but I’m over a lot of shit today and I feel the need to vent it all out.  That’s what blogging is for, right?

I had a conversation with a friend last week.  A conversation that I believed was in confidence, that I believed would go nowhere.  Little to my knowledge, it was repeated to the exact same person we were discussing no sooner than 5 seconds later.  It’s caused a shit-storm.  I hate to be so vague, but I live in constant daily fear that someone I know will discover my blog and be able to determine who I am, based on what I write.  Let’s just say that it led to a huge confrontation between all three of us today.  I feel as though I was treated very unfairly in the whole ordeal, and I’m not just trying to play the victim.  I said what I needed to say to both of them, and while we’re all definitely on the same page about what happened, I am still really angry.  Not as angry as I was at 10:00 this morning, but very angry nonetheless. 

And I had actually come to work in a good mood today!  But the Gods, they had another plan in mind for me. 

“Oh, [CP] is having a good day!  She’s actually seen the break in the clouds!  Let’s pour some more shit on her and watch her drown!”

Then… more stuff happens.  I found out that B and I were purposely not invited to a friend’s birthday party on Saturday night because of this guy.  Basically, the birthday boy is very close with the asshole in the post I put up, yet he’s also very good friends with my boyfriend.  So let me get this straight…  Just because some asshole, who has been friends with my boyfriend for more than 15 years, decides that B needs to choose between their friendship and his relationship with me (and consequently [sp?] B of course chose me and hasn’t spoken to him since then), we all can’t be mature enough to gather together to honor a friend’s birthday? 

Does this make sense to you?

Maybe they didn’t want to deal with any conflict.  But the last time I checked, it was neither B nor I who were wrong in that situation.  If anything, Mr. Birthday Boy and his Girlfriend, who I thought was a friend of mine, should have told the asshole to grow up and keep his mouth shut for one night.  They could have even felt free enough to give the same sage advice to B and myself, if they felt the need.  Yeah, you can say that things happen when people are drinking.  I know this.  But you know what?  It still doesn’t make it right.

So basically, I’m just over it.  I’m over the whole thing.  It’s just two more cases of friendships that aren’t what I thought they were. 

It’s such a bitch.

WTF Wednesday

Seriously, what the fuck is going on with the universe lately?

As I drove to work today, thinking about the death of Heath Ledger (Ed. note:  I will miss that sexy-ass accent of his, yesindeed) I couldn’t help but just feel ridiculously angry and freaked out by things.

So guess what?  I’m gonna start a new tradition here at ChasingParadise.  From now on, every Wednesday will feature a list of things that are either pissing me off or confusing me.  Take your pick.  Sometimes it will probably be a little bit of both.

1.  Heath Ledger, dead at 28.  Seriously, I doubt it was an overdose.  He just seemed to be really genuine, down-to-Earth, and humble.  His poor daughter.  And if it’s got something to do with the pneumonia they say he’d been suffering from as of late, then WTF?  People can die at 28 years old from pneumonia?!  I think that’s bothering me the most is that I grew up having a huge celeb crush on him and he’s so close to my age and HELLO SCARY.  And sad.

2.  Driving to work this morning there was a girl in front of me in the fast lane going 70.  In a 65.  She was chatting on her cell phone, precariously balancing her steering wheel somewhere other than her hands because her other hand (the one not holding her phone) was applying eye makeup.  I mean I guess I can give her points for not driving fast WHILE doing all of this, still…  Do you have a brain?  I glared at her as I passed her.  IN THE RIGHT LANE.

3.  Guys.  Boys.  Whatever you prefer to call them.  A friend of mine had been seeing this guy recently, and he seemed decent enough.  Attractive, well-educated, and so on.  After weeks of non-stop hanging out, he just all of a sudden decides to stop returning her calls and texts.  Then, out of nowhere, just as she was judging herself, questioning everything she’d ever said and done near him, he comes out of the blue with an email apologizing, saying he is freaked out and can’t do this anymore.  That she’s the nicest girl he’s ever met but he is an asshole and he can’t see her like that.  I mean, okay thanks for admitting that you’re an asshole, but you’re forgetting one thing.  You’re also 26 year’s old.  YOU’RE AN ADULT.  So act like one and stop treating my friends with utter disrespect, you piece of shit.

4.  Last night I saw on the news a piece about Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama fighting with each other during a Democratic debate.  I got so angry.  They’re on the same side — against Bush and his policies.  So why are they fighting with each other?  Is it too much to ask for them to be civilized and play fair and be happy for the other, whichever person gets nominated?  I guess the closer it gets to the election, the nastier it’s going to become.  It’s upsetting.

I guess it’s not bad that I can only come up with four things that have pissed me off in the last 12 hours or so. 

What is pissing you off today?

The shit hath hit-eth the fan-eth

Remember the situation I posted about here? Well…

 Yeah. 

She’s pregnant.

I just found this out a little while ago, as I was driving back to work from the dentist.

First of all, thank GOD I agreed to keep this blog totally private and anonymous because I really need a place to escape to right now and get some thoughts out.  I’m so glad I haven’t told B or any of my friends about my blog.  Holy be-jesus, I hope my secret blog stays just that way.

OMG OMG OMG OMG.

When she told me, I just sat in stunned silence.  Then I said “Please tell me you’re joking.  You’re joking, right?  You’re totally pulling my leg?”

Her and I have this really funny back-and-forth thing we do where we try to shock the shit out of each other sometimes.  Yeah, that joke has kind of lost its appeal now.

“Umm, no.  I’m pregnant.  I found out on Christmas Eve.”

How do you react in this situation?  My situation that you all have been so gracious to comment on and provide advice about, just got even stickier.  But fuck my situation — imagine hers!  She’s with a guy who she has ADMITTED to being unhappy with.  Now throw a baby into that and what do you get?  A mess.  Don’t get me wrong, I love babies and I think they are wonderful.  She’s almost 25 years old.  She’s amazing and responsible and she’ll be a great mother.  She has a fantastic family who will be there for her in every way.  I will be there for her too, but holy shit.  I can’t help but feel totally sad about the situation.  It might make me bad to say that, but at least I’m being totally, 100% honest.

She’s trapped.

I kept asking her if she’s okay because let’s be honest, she didn’t sound okay.  She sounded frightened, worried, overwhelmed.  All things that I would be feeling if I were in the situation too. 

I just can’t help but think a great big WHAT THE FUCK, UNIVERSE?

Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?

I need a drink.