weddings/divorces

I've come across the both of them recently, and It's got me to thinking. I don't belong at weddings. I don't like them. Divorce was easy for me. I love my lawyer. Don't remind me who my roommate is.

I mean my little cousin's wedding was cute. I guess...but pink and white goes a little far. Especially when the groom wears a white/white striped tux. There were cute little candleholders w/ the word "love" carved into them. Pink and green flowery crap draping everything. Pink chopsticks as party favors (ultracute). The sermon (because there always has to be one in a religious ceremony) was rife with man cleaving to the wifey and references to adam and eve. Typical stuff.

I brought a book. I had to. You see, I naturally scoff at these events. Even before I was married I was known for my disdain for them. Yes I know, I shouldn't have got married in the first place. It's just not for me.

I was good up until the end when the Officiate announced the couple with one male name. I started clapping like everyone else. It'd be rude not to, but then I let out "Yay! She lost her identity!" My brother who's more known for rude outbursts told me to shut up. yeesh.

See I feel a woman loses her identity not with a name change but with a complete erasure of her given name under the romanticized guise of "oneness ordained by god". I just snorted. That's kinda hard to do when you're stuffed up too. It makes me giggle to think of the phrase "cleaving to the wifey". I always thought of men as being needy. I guess this just reinforces it without making them feel weak (for shame!).

Marriages are on my mind. I don't wish for them to go bad. If that was case, One Toothbrush, I wouldn't even go near your celebration. I just can't stand traditional and outside influence on something so personal. I understand partnerships. I'm all about honest, cooperative relationships that are positive to both sides. blah blah.

Yesterday a dear friend came over to discuss his marital situation and get the number of my lawyer. I was the best man at his wedding. I was 7.5 months pregnant and wearing heels. This wedding was a little like the Birdcage. Freaks of all kinds on the groom's side, and mormons on the bride's side. I'm sure you've heard of this story before.

Well the interesting gooey parts keep going. He caught her cheating. Mind you, they had an open marriage, so there's no need for the deceit. She just couldn't help it. You see he doesn't like master/slave relationships. She had a master. Not him.

When I'm around the Ladies I feel prude, but I have to tell you around them I feel downright Puritan. I have no energy for more than one at a time. She juggled six. Her stamina is amazing.

Whatever...he's getting a divorce now. Not because she slept with other men, but that she lied about it. I guess that disproves my needy man theory.

No more teachers. No more books.

At least for 2.5 weeks. The last day of class for the summer. For the past couple of class periods we've been tortured by dreaded classroom presentations. After chemo I've lost most of what little patience I had, and now...well the best way I can I describe it is...think of driving in a 40 mph zone behind a weaving old person with cataract glasses going at least 15 mph under while you have have HAVE to go to the bathroom and your 2 usually sweet, mild mannered children are booming songs about Stan the Lavatory Man and songs about nibbling on mice feet in the back seat.

Ok. It's not quite THAT bad, but you get my drift...I'm seriously impatient.

I carpooled with the sweetest 19 girl to school. She didn't remind me of myself at that age. I said she was cute not surly and drunk. It is this girl that the whole female population in the class was thankful for. Little angel that she is.

Her presentation was the last one. We were all itchin' to get the hell out of there. Even the teacher was excited to get away. She came up to the front of the class to do the required Power Point Presentation. She had a cheerleader in the back encouraging her to go as fast possible. She started her presentation complete with an interviewed of a professional designer. It was this professional designer that stopped everything in its tracks.

On one of the pages, she had the designer's picture. He was delightful to look at, and every female (teacher included) agreed loudly that he was beautiful. mmm...the presentation slowed down from there, and any and all questions were directed to the man who was interviewed. Topic be damned.

"How old is he?" "Does he have a wife/girlfriend?" "Could you just turn the page back one more time?"

Ahhh...it was a great way to finish an evening summer class. I mean seriously I love sitting on my porch as soon as I get home almost until I go to bed. I certainly didn't want to hole my summer evenings up in a meatlocker of a classroom. So yah after sitting through boring student research presentations, it was great to see the entire female population bonding over one sultry picture of a steamy man.

I just felt bad for the guys in there.

eeh. Screw 'em.

There's always room

It's been a long time since I really blogged intellegently. I have no excuse except that I just don't have it in me. Processing things come at very odd times and when there's no computer around like driving down the higway at breakneck speeds. Thank goddess I'm not around a computer 24/7. I could just imagine what I'd be like, I'd be more socially inept practically autistic.

Right now I'm trudging along as best as I can. Please don't think me rude if I want to sit quietly. I'm acting childish. I know that. I keep telling myself that this isn't a lot, but I'm wondering how you single moms have balanced work, school, boyfriends, children, and personal time. Not to mention my masochistic ass wants gardening, pets, and getting in shape shoved in there somewhere. I know it can fit in there...

Wow. some of you have PHD's.

How many hours are there? Seriously. I know I can squeeze something else into my schedule. You see right now I'm procrastinating a final project/presentation I have to give on Monday. I haven't really done a damn thing on it. And here I am complaining about it like some college kid without a complicated family situation or a job that wreaks havoc on my neck.

I am getting a new desk, so I don't want anyone thinking I'm being...ahem...problematic. I learned that word in art school. It was very popular when discussing aspects to a project that just didn't work properly. See! We had to use large words when making pretty things (or in my case thought provoking things)

My stuff just isn't pretty. It's delightful, but you wouldn't put it on a Chick-lit book cover or anything. It's too visceral, and there's not enough shopping bags. But art is not the topic. My procrastination and time (in)efficiency is.

Hmm...I'm taking suggestions from the peanut gallery on how to properly balance all of these aspects.

Sounds of a screen door slamming

I finally have internet again! I feel like I've missed a bunch since I moved back in. Damn my OCD need to get my house perfect. I know it will never happen. I'm not delusional. I just get bored and antsy and I'm very visually oriented, so I must get it perfect.

We're moved in, and we're settling into our stench so speak. We're creating ruts on the borrowed futon while watching the tv a delightful goddess gave us. Little did she know that ours was going downhill fast, very fast. Thanks, GB.

Oh, yes. Thanks, Bertha for futon.

I'm learning a little more about life since I moved in.

I've learned that people who act grumpy towards cats will receive the majority of their affection. Freyja is the newest member of the family. She was brought home by the large kid that looks like an adult male. I'll get her picture up asap.

At night when I read before bedtime I have a kitten on my chest and a dog on my lap. Right before that I have 2 kids scrambling for momtime, and one large adult child snuggling as close as possible. There's nothing like knowing your loved. It's warm and tingly. Sometimes it's suffocating, but that's what "Mommy's Private Time" is for.

The next thing I learned is that "they" make blue briefs in adult sizes. My neighbors learned that too. I thought the man was wearing my son's underwear which he pooped in, but no, it was his and he didn't poop in them. I'm just so glad my kids got a chance to be exposed to one of the more colorful folks here in Lawrence in a rather safe environment. Gina's Kevin further proved that that they make "tighty blueys" whilst at Lu's party last weekend. Pull your pants up, Boy!

Colored briefs are too much like underoos. Men, don't wear them unless they're in perfect condition. Moth holes on a droopy ass are not attractive. I swear when my underwear gets moth eaten or ill-formed I'll rid the drawer of them. I just ask for the same consideration even if I never see them. Just remember what your momma said about clean underwear and accidents.

I know I've learned more, but there's a cat climbing my curtain. damn cat.