This weekend was my water polo team's international invitational. When I say that, I mean that the overarching organization of polo players that practice together every week put on a tournament. 28 teams from all over the west coast and Canada showed up and four of those (two co-ed a men's and a women's) 28 competing teams were from my overarching team. I played on one of our co-ed teams which entailed 4 games over the course of the three days Friday through Sunday. Although to be more accurate, my co-ed team played three games on Saturday and one on Sunday (at 7am). I'm going to KILL AB and DS for scheduling that! That gives you the background of the weekend.
To start, I got my act together and drove the hour and 20 minutes that it took to get to the pool Friday night. Why? Because I'm a saint. I didn't play on Friday, but because my team was hosting I went to help out. I got to the pool at 4pm and was there until roughly 10pm working the scoring tables and cheered on the other co-ed team and our men in their games. It was pretty easy.
Saturday I woke up at 5:15am and picked up donated coffee from my Starbucks (thanks Mgr. for your support!) and drove the 50 minutes (no traffic at that time of the morning) to the pool and arrived at 6:45am. I played my first game at 8:40am.
Now, those who've been paying attention know that I have only been playing polo for a bit over five months. I've never competitively done any sport. I've never swam. I can honestly say that after the first 5 minutes of the first game I was SO tired I'm surprised I didn't die. We lost the game, but I didn't screw up and I didn't score a goal for the other team. I considered it a success!
After that game it was back to score tables and I got to spend an hour or so with my parents, brother and my mom's best friend who came to the match to watch. I have to say it was pretty cool to have an audience!
Side note... do any of you have any idea how HOT some of the boys that run around water polo tournaments in nothing but speedos are? HOLY CRAP. I knew I liked this sport for a reason.
I played again shortly after 11am, but was actually warmed up a bit so we managed to pull off a win. Granted, we were up against a college team made up of a bunch of Canadian pipsqueaks, but it was still a decent game. What's scary is that these people were all college kids and HAND ON THE BIBLE (not that that means a damn thing because I don't believe in it) not a single one of them weighed more than 100 pounds. I actually got to push a girl around! I was guarding her and my teammates were yelling at me to push her to the wall. SHOCKINGLY I actually did it. (you would think I shouldn't be proud of pushing a girl who weighs less than most of the craps I drop in the toilet around, but it was #1 the first time I'd ever had the ability to push anyone around and #2 see number one and #3 so exciting I almost peed a little!
After that game it was back to score tables for a while and then!!! a friend of mine from high school turned up (she watched my game and I didn't even know!) and she, myself and her husband went to lunch at a local joint.
I played a third game at 6 something (where I actually got a shot on goal even though I didn't make it) and we lost, but again, I didn't screw up and I didn't score a goal for the other team. Success!
Tables, clean up, cheering, tables and I was headed home at 9:30pm. I got home, cooked a GIANT bowl of pasta. Ate and went to bed at a bit after 11.
Sunday morning I was up at 5:30, got gas (for the car!) and drove down to the pool to arrive at 6:45 for a game at 7am. I was so tired that I was literally having an aversion reaction to getting into the pool. Just putting myself into the water was one of the hardest things I've ever done. We then proceeded to get trounced. Horribly. we got so killed that after the first quarter and their lead was something like 6-1 we pretty much decided just to have fun. I did screw up (I made a terrible pass to a guy who was getting double teamed leading to a turnover) but I also blocked a shot on goal....I like to pretend that even though our goalie was right behind me that had I not been there it would have been a goal. It wouldn't, but I like to believe that. I then worked tables the rest of the day and cheered on our other teams. I left at about 4pm.
Somewhere in all of that I turned 31...older than dirt and now not only dead but buried in the gay world.
While it might not sound like it, I still don't have enough energy to do justice to the energy of the event, it was one of the greatest weekends I've had in a LONG time. I think that for a beginner I did pretty well, and that despite our losing record my team played well.
All in all, I think I probably played a total of 35-40 minutes of polo out of the 96 minutes my team was in the water. I don't honestly know, but whatever the actual amount of time it was the most exhausting thing I have ever done. EVER. And I only played on one team. Some of our men and most of our women played on two (and in the case of one girl three!!!) teams which means that they played 8 and 9 games over the same period of time. I am in awe.
And in case anyone is wondering, my team had one guy break a couple fingers, there were some pretty bruises on several of the girls, some nice scratches all over backs (you'd have thought some of us were having great sex!), and the coup de gras... 9 stiches in the eyebrow for one of our girls after her trip to the ER!
Good times!!!!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
She's a retard
I work at the Starbucks... I mentioned that in my header so if you're surprised you're retarded too! I work with a group of mainly girls because let's face it, the title barista does not exactly scream "HOLY CRAP LOOK HOW BUTCH I AM" for guys who may have that title.
One of the great things about Starbucks (love or hate their coffee I could care less) is that they honestly do try to do good things for the greater community. They offer benefits to people like me who work 20 hours a week...the benefits are inexpensive and AMAZING when you consider how much health insurance costs by itself, and that's not the only benefit they offer. Regardless of things offered to empolyees a/k/a "Partners" my store, like I believe all Starbucks stores, donates our day old pastries to a local charity.
So this girl I work with, we'll call her Tiffani (because that name fits the super bright!) who, while really a nice person who is very kind, is dumber than a box of hair. In fact, I'm not sure the box of hair might not beat her in a trivia competition if it was animate enough to talk. She's bright as a burned out light bulb... I think you get picture! Sharp as a marble. Really! Today the gentleman who comes from the local charity to pick up our day old pastries came in at roughly the same time he always comes in EVERY DAY! Tiffani, apparently never having noticed him until yesterday said and I quote, "Wow, he was just here yesterday!" I told her that yes, he comes every day.
Her response, and I'm not making this up... "WOW, they must be needy!"
I then shot her in the face because her brain was obviously in serious pain from lack of use.
One of the great things about Starbucks (love or hate their coffee I could care less) is that they honestly do try to do good things for the greater community. They offer benefits to people like me who work 20 hours a week...the benefits are inexpensive and AMAZING when you consider how much health insurance costs by itself, and that's not the only benefit they offer. Regardless of things offered to empolyees a/k/a "Partners" my store, like I believe all Starbucks stores, donates our day old pastries to a local charity.
So this girl I work with, we'll call her Tiffani (because that name fits the super bright!) who, while really a nice person who is very kind, is dumber than a box of hair. In fact, I'm not sure the box of hair might not beat her in a trivia competition if it was animate enough to talk. She's bright as a burned out light bulb... I think you get picture! Sharp as a marble. Really! Today the gentleman who comes from the local charity to pick up our day old pastries came in at roughly the same time he always comes in EVERY DAY! Tiffani, apparently never having noticed him until yesterday said and I quote, "Wow, he was just here yesterday!" I told her that yes, he comes every day.
Her response, and I'm not making this up... "WOW, they must be needy!"
I then shot her in the face because her brain was obviously in serious pain from lack of use.
I'm a retard
The title of the last post was supposed to introduce the fact that the cold I've had made it impossible for me to practice water polo last night. Well, not impossible, I was in the water for 20 minutes, but after swimming down and back across the pool maybe twice, I was wheezing like an 80 year old with a 5 pack a day habit. I had to leave early.
Clearly, my mind didn't go there when I was typing my last post. Apologies all around.
Clearly, my mind didn't go there when I was typing my last post. Apologies all around.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Too pooped to play
I've been fighting a cold...a weird cold that has sat directly on my nose for the last 5 days with no other symptoms... for (here's the big shock) the last 5 days! It has sucked so hard that I got a hickey on the end of my pee pee and that's not a good kind of sucking.
I went out last night and bought an new device (probably "new" in the sense that its been around for the last 5000 years as a home remedy) called a Netipot. No, for those wondering, it is not a smoking pot (like our beloved Michael Phelps' bong) , but instead a contraption that looks like a tea pot. You do not, however, use this particular pot for making tea, but instead mix up a special solution of stuff (what I don't know so don't ask) and you pour it up your nose to clean out your sinuses. Yes, you read that correctly.
The instructions say, "Lean forward and tilt your head to the side"...of course this is the same set of instructions that came in the box that tells you what you just bought is shit and that you should have bought a different product made by the same company because it's so far superior to the piece of shit you just bought, but I digress... "make a tight seal and pour the liquid into your nostril to allow it to flow out the other nostril thus allowing you to clean out all of the compacted shit the cold you have has placed in your nose so that you'll feel better" or something along those lines.
Now whoever thought of this is probably the same person who thinks colonics are a great idea...although and I am NOT making this up my cousin said, "I could SEE better" after having his ass pumped full of gallons of water... but maybe they aren't too bad. Because SO much snot came out of my nose I had a string flowing from my nose into the sink. For those who don't know me, I'm taller than most redwoods so that's a significant distance.
Of course the negative side effects are that having chosen to buy the piece of crap that was far inferior to the other product made by the same company (which involved some sort of pumping mechanism...see discussion of colonics above) because my sinuses were stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey's ass, I also had a nice bit of back flow that filled my throat with what I can only imagine were boogers the colors of the rainbow. God know's that shit didn't fall into the sink like the gallon of snot.
However, at the end of the whole ordeal...me drinking a solution of stuff I can only hope was non-toxic, some boogers and a liter of snot (while simultaneously rinsing some of the similar stuff down the drain) I did feel slightly better. I'm not going to give you resounding praise of the Netipot, but I will tell you that should you decide to buy one, I wouldn't because there are apparently far superior products made by the same company and they aren't shy about telling you so.
I say "fuck'em" I'm not going to buy there far superior product because washing out the contents of my nose just doesn't seem to me to be a hobby I'm going to take up.
I went out last night and bought an new device (probably "new" in the sense that its been around for the last 5000 years as a home remedy) called a Netipot. No, for those wondering, it is not a smoking pot (like our beloved Michael Phelps' bong) , but instead a contraption that looks like a tea pot. You do not, however, use this particular pot for making tea, but instead mix up a special solution of stuff (what I don't know so don't ask) and you pour it up your nose to clean out your sinuses. Yes, you read that correctly.
The instructions say, "Lean forward and tilt your head to the side"...of course this is the same set of instructions that came in the box that tells you what you just bought is shit and that you should have bought a different product made by the same company because it's so far superior to the piece of shit you just bought, but I digress... "make a tight seal and pour the liquid into your nostril to allow it to flow out the other nostril thus allowing you to clean out all of the compacted shit the cold you have has placed in your nose so that you'll feel better" or something along those lines.
Now whoever thought of this is probably the same person who thinks colonics are a great idea...although and I am NOT making this up my cousin said, "I could SEE better" after having his ass pumped full of gallons of water... but maybe they aren't too bad. Because SO much snot came out of my nose I had a string flowing from my nose into the sink. For those who don't know me, I'm taller than most redwoods so that's a significant distance.
Of course the negative side effects are that having chosen to buy the piece of crap that was far inferior to the other product made by the same company (which involved some sort of pumping mechanism...see discussion of colonics above) because my sinuses were stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey's ass, I also had a nice bit of back flow that filled my throat with what I can only imagine were boogers the colors of the rainbow. God know's that shit didn't fall into the sink like the gallon of snot.
However, at the end of the whole ordeal...me drinking a solution of stuff I can only hope was non-toxic, some boogers and a liter of snot (while simultaneously rinsing some of the similar stuff down the drain) I did feel slightly better. I'm not going to give you resounding praise of the Netipot, but I will tell you that should you decide to buy one, I wouldn't because there are apparently far superior products made by the same company and they aren't shy about telling you so.
I say "fuck'em" I'm not going to buy there far superior product because washing out the contents of my nose just doesn't seem to me to be a hobby I'm going to take up.
Friday, January 30, 2009
What the hell?
When I moved back to the Seattle area in August...god has it really been that long ago already??... I did very little in the social scene. While not much has changed in that department because I don't have any money to do anything social, I do venture out every now and again in an attempt to meet men who may be interested in dating the tragedy that is me, myself and Irene.
More to the point, I met a guy during my first night out on the town who, in typical homo fashion, took me home the first night. Mind you...we didn't sleep together and I didn't even spend the night (that would be terribly terribly slutty and I am not terribly terribly slutty until at least the 4th or 5th hour and we had only known each other about 3! What you people must think of me?).
Over the course of the next couple of weeks/months he and I got together a couple of times in some of the most confusing and strangely charged dates that I'd ever had. Several times I spent the night...no sex, but lots of play (note to those still with us that is not terribly terribly terribly slutty as we were now well acquainted) and at one point I had one of...if not THE...most erotic experiences of my life with him. Then, after that experience, NOTHING. A text message here and there, more or less entirely at my initiative and a lack of actual meeting and face to face contact. Obviously, I got a bit frustrated and when I ran into him at a bar one night, attempted to define exactly what it is he wanted, if anything? Being drunk, he dismissed me with a "go find your friends" comment. Now I'm not completely dense...although this post is not leading the reader to believe that I'm sure...I sort of figured out with the brick to the side of the head that, in those immortal words, "he's just not that into me." But, being a glutton for punishment I sent him a message the next day which read something to the effect of, "Not wanting to beat a clearly dead horse, I would like to talk."
That lead to the face to face discussion say, two weeks later where he said (in roughly translated terms) "you were convenient." And continued to make excuses about his not being emotionally available, not over the ex, not really into dating anyone etc. Interestingly, he did say, "I don't think anyone got too trampled in this" which is true because I, not being as dumb as this post is making me sound, did not do something totally lesbian and fall in love with him and pack my suitcases to move in. He also stated he wants to stay friends. I still don't know where I fall on that....
Skip ahead to tonight. We had dinner together (on his invite no less??) and then went to a bar to meet up with one of his friends. While there, he got a text from a guy with a name strikingly similar to mine. When his friend asked him about it he made an offhand comment that made it sound like they were dating. Fine, he's obviously not dating me, but he never mentioned that he was dating someone new. The real interesting part was that upon more inquiry...from me and his friend... he said, "how do I explain my relationship with him?" Then he pointed to me and said, "I think I have to say, 'Ditto.'" Apparently I'm not the only one who he uses his antics on.
I'm not mad or even hurt, but I am confused. Allow me to tell you why... When I dropped him off tonight he said (because he knows I live in the burbs and seriously control any drinking I do because I have to drive home), "if you ever want to go out and get stupid, you can always crash at my place." Which, as has been discussed with him previously, is generally an open invite to crash in his bed. I responded, "I'm not sure I can do that" because honestly...as should now be BLATANTLY obvious to those of you paying attention... I do like him and could see something happening beyond friendship. Alas, that is not happening because of his issues, and I'm not going to put myself in a position where I'm laying in bed next to him and he's rejecting me for anything beyond a quick shot at a blow job. I've been down that road before....
More to the point, I met a guy during my first night out on the town who, in typical homo fashion, took me home the first night. Mind you...we didn't sleep together and I didn't even spend the night (that would be terribly terribly slutty and I am not terribly terribly slutty until at least the 4th or 5th hour and we had only known each other about 3! What you people must think of me?).
Over the course of the next couple of weeks/months he and I got together a couple of times in some of the most confusing and strangely charged dates that I'd ever had. Several times I spent the night...no sex, but lots of play (note to those still with us that is not terribly terribly terribly slutty as we were now well acquainted) and at one point I had one of...if not THE...most erotic experiences of my life with him. Then, after that experience, NOTHING. A text message here and there, more or less entirely at my initiative and a lack of actual meeting and face to face contact. Obviously, I got a bit frustrated and when I ran into him at a bar one night, attempted to define exactly what it is he wanted, if anything? Being drunk, he dismissed me with a "go find your friends" comment. Now I'm not completely dense...although this post is not leading the reader to believe that I'm sure...I sort of figured out with the brick to the side of the head that, in those immortal words, "he's just not that into me." But, being a glutton for punishment I sent him a message the next day which read something to the effect of, "Not wanting to beat a clearly dead horse, I would like to talk."
That lead to the face to face discussion say, two weeks later where he said (in roughly translated terms) "you were convenient." And continued to make excuses about his not being emotionally available, not over the ex, not really into dating anyone etc. Interestingly, he did say, "I don't think anyone got too trampled in this" which is true because I, not being as dumb as this post is making me sound, did not do something totally lesbian and fall in love with him and pack my suitcases to move in. He also stated he wants to stay friends. I still don't know where I fall on that....
Skip ahead to tonight. We had dinner together (on his invite no less??) and then went to a bar to meet up with one of his friends. While there, he got a text from a guy with a name strikingly similar to mine. When his friend asked him about it he made an offhand comment that made it sound like they were dating. Fine, he's obviously not dating me, but he never mentioned that he was dating someone new. The real interesting part was that upon more inquiry...from me and his friend... he said, "how do I explain my relationship with him?" Then he pointed to me and said, "I think I have to say, 'Ditto.'" Apparently I'm not the only one who he uses his antics on.
I'm not mad or even hurt, but I am confused. Allow me to tell you why... When I dropped him off tonight he said (because he knows I live in the burbs and seriously control any drinking I do because I have to drive home), "if you ever want to go out and get stupid, you can always crash at my place." Which, as has been discussed with him previously, is generally an open invite to crash in his bed. I responded, "I'm not sure I can do that" because honestly...as should now be BLATANTLY obvious to those of you paying attention... I do like him and could see something happening beyond friendship. Alas, that is not happening because of his issues, and I'm not going to put myself in a position where I'm laying in bed next to him and he's rejecting me for anything beyond a quick shot at a blow job. I've been down that road before....
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Insulted
I know I'm not a currently practicing attorney and I know that it wasn't my specialty, but its still awfully insulting that my dad has a copy of "The Complete Idiots Guide to Wills and Estates" sitting on the coffee table. God forbid he ask me...the fat kid...for a bit of advice or even just maybe an idea of what to do. Of course everything I've said to date has been completely ignored, so its probably best that he hasn't asked.
Enough with the family drama...
I got my ass beat up tonight at water polo. Since I've never mentioned this before, I should tell you that when I moved back to the Seattle area I started playing water polo with the local Seattle team. Its been my saving grace because I do not have a social life outside of polo at the moment because I don't have the money to do anything social. Hence...I play water polo. I cannot stress how awesome the people I play with are. We've had team Thanksgiving, a holiday get together (that I VERY unfortunately couldn't attend) and after practice some nights we go off to a neighborhood bar and have a couple drinks and shoot the shit. I only wish I could spend more time with the guys/gals on my team so that I could have a broader circle of friends. Regardless, I am SUPER excited for next month...the 6-8th... when my team is hosting the "Seattle Otters International Open." It will be my first time playing against other teams so I'm hoping that I don't get my butt kicked too badly. I guess I should also let you know that I started playing water polo in September. I was not a swimmer in college or high school nor was I swimmer in any capacity. That translates into how much I suck because my swimming is ugly, inefficient and I pretty much survive because I've managed to get myself in pretty good shape. That's been the only thing that's saved me from drowning on many occasions. Most of my team has been playing for "15 years" "since I was 6" "I played for UC Santa Cruz" etc. You get the idea. Even the smallest girls on the team who weigh in at a buck fifteen can kick my 205 pound ass around like no tomorrow. But the point is that in getting my butt kicked today, they aren't babying me any more. I've obviously proved myself a bit.
That being said...I almost had my nose broken and my eye is totally bloodshot from a hit I took while guarding one of the guys who tried to take a shot. Its sort of exciting because its like my second real life sports injury. I'm so proud of me!
Enough with the family drama...
I got my ass beat up tonight at water polo. Since I've never mentioned this before, I should tell you that when I moved back to the Seattle area I started playing water polo with the local Seattle team. Its been my saving grace because I do not have a social life outside of polo at the moment because I don't have the money to do anything social. Hence...I play water polo. I cannot stress how awesome the people I play with are. We've had team Thanksgiving, a holiday get together (that I VERY unfortunately couldn't attend) and after practice some nights we go off to a neighborhood bar and have a couple drinks and shoot the shit. I only wish I could spend more time with the guys/gals on my team so that I could have a broader circle of friends. Regardless, I am SUPER excited for next month...the 6-8th... when my team is hosting the "Seattle Otters International Open." It will be my first time playing against other teams so I'm hoping that I don't get my butt kicked too badly. I guess I should also let you know that I started playing water polo in September. I was not a swimmer in college or high school nor was I swimmer in any capacity. That translates into how much I suck because my swimming is ugly, inefficient and I pretty much survive because I've managed to get myself in pretty good shape. That's been the only thing that's saved me from drowning on many occasions. Most of my team has been playing for "15 years" "since I was 6" "I played for UC Santa Cruz" etc. You get the idea. Even the smallest girls on the team who weigh in at a buck fifteen can kick my 205 pound ass around like no tomorrow. But the point is that in getting my butt kicked today, they aren't babying me any more. I've obviously proved myself a bit.
That being said...I almost had my nose broken and my eye is totally bloodshot from a hit I took while guarding one of the guys who tried to take a shot. Its sort of exciting because its like my second real life sports injury. I'm so proud of me!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Frustrated
I think pissed off is more apt, but I went with frustrated in an attempt to not fume at the very beginning of the post... oops, I guess that didn't work so well.
Today was my grandfather's funeral service. To hear the members of my family talk...the second cousins, the great aunts, uncles and even some of the neighbors that showed up...you'd have thought my grandfather was a fucking saint. Even my uncle...who admittedly is so full of shit his eyes are brown and he is such an attention/image whore that he'd say or do anything if it made him look good (before he goes off to beat my cousins or my aunt in a fit of rage with a smile) (he's just that great a guy!))... said, "I couldn't have asked for a better father." What a crock of shit that is.
Granted, a funeral service is not the time to trash my grandfather about what asshole he was, but for fuck sake don't lie about what a great person he was when he really was just a bitter old ass who made everyone's life so miserable that no one cried except out of show and/or just pure relief at his finally being dead. But I have to take that back. Some people (the aforementioned second cousins, aunts etc.) actually did cry because of the great memories they had of my grandfather. That's why I'm pissed.
Where was that great guy when he was screaming at every person who attempted to help him in any way given that he did nothing to help himself? Where was that guy when my grandmother...his wife of 53 years...just decided that it was no longer worth listening to him bitch about the cost of her blood pressure medication so she quit taking it and stroked out less than a month later? Where was that guy when he called my brother a thief? When he told my father that he was never good enough? Where was that great guy who these people who spent so little actual time with him, who seemed to be the light of someone's day? In the 30+ years I've been spinning the sun on this planet, I can count maybe two occasions where I remember going a whole day without hearing him criticize someone for something and that someone was usually a member of the family...and that's stretching it.
I'm not sad he's dead. I'm sad that I never saw the great person that those who didn't actually know my grandfather remembered in some image of himself that he projected for the short spans of time he was with them. That just irritates the living shit out of me.
P.S.
Special thanks to my great uncle who bored the living shit out of me for more than forty minutes discussing the greatness of jesus and god. To you I say, "I've accepted that you think that, now please shut up the fuck up because you've lost your audience who no longer cares."....one of my great aunts and I were exchanging glances and rolling our eyes! Sinners...
Today was my grandfather's funeral service. To hear the members of my family talk...the second cousins, the great aunts, uncles and even some of the neighbors that showed up...you'd have thought my grandfather was a fucking saint. Even my uncle...who admittedly is so full of shit his eyes are brown and he is such an attention/image whore that he'd say or do anything if it made him look good (before he goes off to beat my cousins or my aunt in a fit of rage with a smile) (he's just that great a guy!))... said, "I couldn't have asked for a better father." What a crock of shit that is.
Granted, a funeral service is not the time to trash my grandfather about what asshole he was, but for fuck sake don't lie about what a great person he was when he really was just a bitter old ass who made everyone's life so miserable that no one cried except out of show and/or just pure relief at his finally being dead. But I have to take that back. Some people (the aforementioned second cousins, aunts etc.) actually did cry because of the great memories they had of my grandfather. That's why I'm pissed.
Where was that great guy when he was screaming at every person who attempted to help him in any way given that he did nothing to help himself? Where was that guy when my grandmother...his wife of 53 years...just decided that it was no longer worth listening to him bitch about the cost of her blood pressure medication so she quit taking it and stroked out less than a month later? Where was that guy when he called my brother a thief? When he told my father that he was never good enough? Where was that great guy who these people who spent so little actual time with him, who seemed to be the light of someone's day? In the 30+ years I've been spinning the sun on this planet, I can count maybe two occasions where I remember going a whole day without hearing him criticize someone for something and that someone was usually a member of the family...and that's stretching it.
I'm not sad he's dead. I'm sad that I never saw the great person that those who didn't actually know my grandfather remembered in some image of himself that he projected for the short spans of time he was with them. That just irritates the living shit out of me.
P.S.
Special thanks to my great uncle who bored the living shit out of me for more than forty minutes discussing the greatness of jesus and god. To you I say, "I've accepted that you think that, now please shut up the fuck up because you've lost your audience who no longer cares."....one of my great aunts and I were exchanging glances and rolling our eyes! Sinners...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Silent treatment
So my mom is essentially not speaking to me. After my horrific crime in calling my grandmother and telling her that my grandfather died. In turn she made the horrible and unforgivable mistake of calling to give her condolences to my dad and apologize to my mom in an attempt to bridge the gap created (admittedly) by some of the unkind things she said to my mom in the past. So I'm a meddling asshole and my grandmother is a fraud who, "never comes up with the idea to apologize on her own" which apparently is just as bad a crime as originally screwing up in the first place.
At this point I'm sort of at a loss as to what to say to my mom and I know that she's going through a lot emotionally, so I'm sort of sitting by the wayside wondering what, if anything, I can say or do to support her while she ignores me.
At this point I'm sort of at a loss as to what to say to my mom and I know that she's going through a lot emotionally, so I'm sort of sitting by the wayside wondering what, if anything, I can say or do to support her while she ignores me.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Stirring the bee's nest
So my grandfather finally died yesterday. I say finally because it has been long expected and his poor health and worse attitude make it more a relief than anything. That may sound cold, but it is what it is. You simply couldn't shine that penny.
I titled this post because the recent death of my grandfather (my dad's dad) has brought to the forefront the fact that my mother and grandmother are not on speaking terms. There are far too many slights and hurt feelings to sum up here, but suffice it to say my mom has been the one who was hurt for the last time and more or less cut off communication. What bothers me is that my mother is not the type to cut someone off and is the last person I would expect to not forgive and forget. That being said, its been more or less since last August that any substantive communication has happened between my mother and grandmother.
So, as the death of my grandfather was a relatively significant event for my family...even though it isn't a direct relation to my grandmother...I felt she had the right to know about it and called her to inform her of my grandfather's timely death. My grandmother called to give her condolences to my father and ended up apologizing to my mother for the things said/done that caused the rift. At the time of the phone call I was at the gym so I was not privy to the exchange. Instead, what I got when I got home was, "YOU called my mother?" in such an accusatory tone that you would have thought I called my grandmother to tattle about something in an effort to bring scorn on my mom? Then conversation ended and I was shut off?
I'm not sure what my next action is going to be because I have no interest in suffering the same fate my grandmother has with my mom, but I also have no interest in seeing my grandmother (who's 85) die without at least trying to create some sort of normalization of relations.
Good times!
I titled this post because the recent death of my grandfather (my dad's dad) has brought to the forefront the fact that my mother and grandmother are not on speaking terms. There are far too many slights and hurt feelings to sum up here, but suffice it to say my mom has been the one who was hurt for the last time and more or less cut off communication. What bothers me is that my mother is not the type to cut someone off and is the last person I would expect to not forgive and forget. That being said, its been more or less since last August that any substantive communication has happened between my mother and grandmother.
So, as the death of my grandfather was a relatively significant event for my family...even though it isn't a direct relation to my grandmother...I felt she had the right to know about it and called her to inform her of my grandfather's timely death. My grandmother called to give her condolences to my father and ended up apologizing to my mother for the things said/done that caused the rift. At the time of the phone call I was at the gym so I was not privy to the exchange. Instead, what I got when I got home was, "YOU called my mother?" in such an accusatory tone that you would have thought I called my grandmother to tattle about something in an effort to bring scorn on my mom? Then conversation ended and I was shut off?
I'm not sure what my next action is going to be because I have no interest in suffering the same fate my grandmother has with my mom, but I also have no interest in seeing my grandmother (who's 85) die without at least trying to create some sort of normalization of relations.
Good times!
Monday, January 19, 2009
He's Baaaack!
Ok, so it is a "new" address because after my abrupt departure from my blog at evilgaylawyer.blogspot.com, blogger grieved my departure for an appropriate amount of time and then some asshole decided to swoop in and steal the address. Whoever that fucker was didn't do anything with the address and then one day out of the clear blue evilgaylawyer.blogspot.com became a non-internet address...or at least not one that Blogger/Google would release. I like to believe that's because they were saving it for my triumphant return, but they won't let me have it as an address again so I'm here with this one. Don't like it? Suck my nuts.
Enough with that.
For those who have no idea who I am, welcome. For those who know who I am and found me again, thanks for taking the time! I'm not sure where the new blog is going to go, but I do have a lot of things that have happened since I've been out of the blogging game. For one, the title to this blog is now a bit of a lie. While I am still "technically" a lawyer (I'll never wash that stench off), I'm not currently practicing and I've moved across the country...for those still with us, that's the USA. I'm in the Seattle area now (again for those new to us, I was in Chicago) and am working at the company that typifies Seattle to the rest of the world...STARBUCKS!
Now one would think that being a lawyer I would be working in some capacity as either a lawyer or a contract administrator or some other equally challenging/exciting mentally stimulating position worthy of my really bad lawyering skills. You'd be wrong! I am in fact a barista slinging coffee on a more or less daily basis to the demanding jackasses created by Starbucks because we give them exactly what they want every time without question and with a smile! :-) see!
If I wasn't going to go to bed now I would fill you in on more exciting details, but for now let's just say I have lots more material now that my life sucks even harder than before! I'm sure I'll find a pic of a nice looking boy to post in not too long. Suffer until then. Laters.
Enough with that.
For those who have no idea who I am, welcome. For those who know who I am and found me again, thanks for taking the time! I'm not sure where the new blog is going to go, but I do have a lot of things that have happened since I've been out of the blogging game. For one, the title to this blog is now a bit of a lie. While I am still "technically" a lawyer (I'll never wash that stench off), I'm not currently practicing and I've moved across the country...for those still with us, that's the USA. I'm in the Seattle area now (again for those new to us, I was in Chicago) and am working at the company that typifies Seattle to the rest of the world...STARBUCKS!
Now one would think that being a lawyer I would be working in some capacity as either a lawyer or a contract administrator or some other equally challenging/exciting mentally stimulating position worthy of my really bad lawyering skills. You'd be wrong! I am in fact a barista slinging coffee on a more or less daily basis to the demanding jackasses created by Starbucks because we give them exactly what they want every time without question and with a smile! :-) see!
If I wasn't going to go to bed now I would fill you in on more exciting details, but for now let's just say I have lots more material now that my life sucks even harder than before! I'm sure I'll find a pic of a nice looking boy to post in not too long. Suffer until then. Laters.
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