Is this really the best story he could come up with?  It’s creative.  I’ll give him that.

Frenemy - someone who acts like they’re there for you, but does stuff that says otherwise.

I was looking for this word a while back and couldn’t come up with it.  3 AM this morning, it popped into my head.  Now if only there was a word for waking up every day at 3AM…

I thought it was because I had to fill in as cashier at the pick up window; however, it’s been suggested that maybe the real reason I’m sick has more to do with this list.

Did you all see this?  I can’t say I’m surprised.  I’ve always thought men that preferred blondes were stupid.  I have this theory that your brain acts like fertilizer for the hair.  If your brain is developed and working properly, your hair is darker.  If your hair is lighter, the brain must not be providing the needed nutrients - in other words, it’s dysfunctional…at least that’s what I told my two blonde sisters while we were growing up.

If you’re looking to get me or that hard to buy for person in your life a good Christmas gift, I have an idea.  How about a town of their own?

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been dreaming a lot lately.  Normally, I don’t remember dreaming or if I do, it’s stuff like cleaning the house, going to work, taking the kids to school…normal stuff that doesn’t make for good dreams.  Last night though, I dreamed that I was in Ethan’s room playing on his computer when I heard banging on the door.  I thought it was Ethan in the shower.  He will bang on the walls just to irritate Vanessa and me.  We both yelled at him to stop and realized it wasn’t him.  I told Cytha in game that someone was at the door.  If I don’t come back, call 911.  I went to the door.  It was dark out and the door was already open.  I couldn’t see whoever was out there.  They were in all black, but there was a bit of a reflection that told me they had a knife, gun, or something metallic.  I said, “Can I help you?”  They opened the screen door and walked in as I screamed to the kids to run.  I woke up at that point.

I have no idea who it was or what they wanted.  I wasn’t really scared in the dream.  I felt like the person had some grudge with me and wouldn’t bother the kids.  It’s odd how you have all these emotions, feelings, and understanding in a dream.  I wish the dream would have gone on longer so I would have known who it was and what they wanted.  It was odd being that calm with someone that was irate and wielding a weapon.

Several people have asked and the holidays went pretty much without a hitch.  Of course there was the point when my grandmother was talking geneology and announced to everyone that my father’s mother claimed to be French and Indian (Native American) which in fact was only a ruse for being black…only she used the n word which not only shocked everyone at the table, but caused my aunt and little sister to excuse themselves to the kitchen where I thought they were going to pass out from laughter.  If you’ve heard stories of my father and his father, then you know how funny that comment actually is.  My father’s extremely racist as was his father.

My niece told me she wanted a wok for Christmas.  I said, “A wok?”

She said, “Yup!”

I said, “To make stir fried vegetables in?”  This is the same kid that asked for a chocolate fountain last year so that’s not too far out of the realm of possibility.

She said, “NO!  To tell time!”

Watch + Clock = Wok.  What was I thinking?!?!

I dropped it and it won’t turn on. The keyboard lights up, but the two screens don’t. If you press down on it, it vibrates though. *wiggles eyebrows* Maybe that’s not so bad…

I know.  The story below is dark, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy my holiday! I just have to get past some baggage to do it.  I debated even posting it, but decided that writing it wasn’t enough if no one read it.  I feel better and will get through Thanksgiving fine.  I got my chance to vent to friends and hopefully they’ll realize however sucky their holiday is, it could be worse…lol

Happy Thanskgiving all.

I was watching TV when my mother called.  “We may be having Thanksgiving at our house instead of Grandma’s.”  She was deliberately talking slow and calm.  I knew there was more to come and it wasn’t going to be good. “Mother decided to hold a family meeting which she didn’t tell me about until everyone was there.  She then proceeded to tell me how mean and horrible I am to her.  You just can’t imagine!”

Heh.  I could imagine alright.  I knew just how she felt.  My mind drifted back to when I was in junior high school.  The first and only family meeting we ever had was called in my room.  The topic, how mean I was to my sisters and how I needed to change my attitude.  I remember arguing that I wasn’t the one being mean, but it was no use.  They sighted the time I chipped my older sister’s tooth.  I remembered it perfectly.  I walked in to see her chugging my Dr. Pepper which I’d been saving in the fridge.  Soft drinks were a commodity around our house.  We rarely ever got them so I’d only drank a little of mine.  I wanted to make it last as long as I could.  She’d already finished hers off and there she was trying to finish off mine!  I yelled at her to stop, that it was mine, but she just kept drinking so I grabbed it from her.  Back in those days, the bottles were made of glass rather than plastic.  I didn’t intentionally break her tooth.  The bottle hit it and it chipped.

Next, they pointed out the time I punched my little sister in the stomach.  Again, I did it.  We were staying with my grandmother.  I don’t remember where our parents were.  They left us home with Grandma a lot.  Grandma yelled for my sister to come in the house.  She’d been mean to our cousin and was in trouble.  She wouldn’t go though.  I told her she’d better mind grandma and she told me she didn’t have to.  Grandma was not her mom.  I told her she had three seconds and began counting.  When I got to three, I punched her in the stomach.  She’d been hanging from the monkey bars and when I punched her, she lost her breath, fell to the ground, and laid there gasping for air.  Maybe I was mean to my sisters, but it’s not like it was unprovoked.  I understood perfectly how my mother felt.

Mom went on to say, “Just because she has Parkinson’s, I have to give up my life.  I have no privacy!  Several times a night, she buzzes me on the intercom to go in there with her.  I don’t get any sleep!  You just want one good night’s rest.  Is that too much to ask?”

I wanted to say, “Yup.  It is.”  When I was in sixth grade, I remember looking for a place to hide.  I thought if I could just find a place to hide for one night so that I could sleep the entire night, I’d feel so much better.  I was in the closet trying to squeeze into the back corner to where I couldn’t be seen, when the step dad came in and heard me.  He slid open the closet door and saw me hiding there.  He started smiling and asked what I was doing.  I was screaming in my head, “I’m hiding from you!  I’m sick of you waking me up at night!  LEAVE ME ALONE!”  I opened my mouth and all that came out was, “I’m just thinking.”  He heard that and immediately started laughing.  He then went and told my mom and sisters about it.  They were laughing too.  I went to bed in tears knowing it was going to happen again and there was nothing I could do about it.

Mom went on, “I’m sick of putting everyone else’s feelings over my own.  Why can’t I have a normal life?!?”  I told her that she deserved one and that it was time to put Grandma into a nursing home.  She would just need a quick stint living with my aunt in order for my aunt to realize how difficult she’d become.  My mom agreed that I was right and soon got off the phone.

I fell asleep on the sofa with the TV still going.  I dreamed again of Thanksgiving dinner.  Everyone was sitting around telling stories of the past.  All of them seemed to star me in embarrassing situations.  I was smiling and hoping that no one would notice my tears until they got to the “Just thinking” story.  I simply couldn’t take it any more.  I stood up, pointed to the step dad and said, “You remember how you busted every door facing in our house so that we couldn’t lock any doors to keep you out?  You told mom the doors were cheaply made, but it was okay because what if there was a fire?  We didn’t need to get trapped behind locked doors.  The night I told her what you’d been doing to us, I offered that as proof.  I also told her of my plot to kill you if she didn’t believe me.  Did she ever tell you that?  It was a good story.  You should ask her about that one.”

Next, I pointed at my mother, “How could you not have known?  You knew.  You knew all along.  You just didn’t want to face it.  You wanted to keep your perfect family even if it meant we were suffering.”  My little sister jumped to her defense and I turned on her, “You just sit back down.  You’re here with your drunken adulterous husband pretending to be that same happy family.  You learned from her well.  All you ever think about is yourself and how things effect you.  It doesn’t matter how ugly you’ve been to me, I’m supposed to just take it, smile, and say thank you.  You were so hurt that I told a friend bad things about you.  Your question was why would I do that to you???  Knowing that would always be in the back of their mind when they were talking to you and that you still played a game with them, how could I say mean things about you?!?!  It’s easy.  I spoke the truth.  While you are okay ignoring bad things, I can’t.  It was me ignoring them for so long that made me have to vent to the friend in the first place!”

I woke up in tears, reminded myself that it was just a dream, started to turn the TV off, but decided to just leave it on.  I crawled into bed listening to the TV and hoping the dream was over.  It wasn’t though.  This time, I was pointing at my uncle, “Remember the time you ‘lost’ your paycheck and wouldn’t tell your boss?  A friend told us that you’d given it to your girlfriend because she couldn’t pay her rent that month.  My aunt had to borrow money from Grandma to pay your rent.” 

I started laughing and continued on, this time pointing at my aunt, “You kept pretending not to know what was going on, but you knew.  We all knew.  Why did you put up with it?!?  He was so mean to your son who was always trying to defend you.  You let that happen too.  I can’t help but put some of the blame for his drug and relationship problems on the two off you.  You weren’t ever there for him!”

My cousin stood up at this point, “Oh don’t even try to say anything.  You’re just like your father.  No one matters in your life except you and you’ll swindle anyone you can if there’s a dollar to be had.  …and your lousy excuse for a husband.  How many schools has he started and quit now?  Let’s see, chef school, cop school and my favorite, truck driving school.  Wasn’t that fun?  You quit your job to ride with him and then decided that wasn’t the life for you.  You filed bankruptcy and stuck your mom with the school loan she cosigned on.  That’s a good story.  Do you tell people that one when you’re telling people what a great daughter you are?”

I woke up again.  It was 3AM and there was no one there.  I’d have given anything for someone to tell me that it was just a bad dream and that while I was very ugly to people in the dream, I’m not that person.  I would never do that.  I looked at the phone on the nightstand wanting to call someone, but knowing there was no one to call.  I was on my own like always.  

Thanksgiving dinner would go off without a hitch.  I’d laugh and smile like always while trying to forget the bad stuff.  Every family has their baggage afterall.  The important thing for me to remember was that I was making good memories for my children.  One day they would sit around and tell their kids about Thanksgivings when the whole family came together and told stories.  I could withstand a few more of these until they got older and we would start having them with their families.  I wouldn’t have to pretend then.  There would only be good memories for everyone.