Crazed Judgemental Mom

Another Aside...

2005-12-05T16:14:00.000-08:00

Can someone tell me if assholes are just naturally attracted to pickup trucks, or does driving a pickup truck make someone an asshole? Every time I drive on the highway and see someone doing something obnoxious, aggressive, and thoroughly unnecessary (usually in my rear veiw mirror) it turns out to be a pickup truck, generally driven by a young blond woman in flannel, or a middle aged white man with a nice haircut. Even those times I think "No, this time it's an SUV." it turns out to be a pickup truck with a camper top on it. Is there some sort of screening process that goes on at the dealerships? It all just seems like too much of a coincidence to me.

Political Aside....

2005-11-20T15:35:00.000-08:00

As usual I am feeling a wee bit embarrassed by my nation's leadership. While taking a break from my major house reorganization I read the following in a news article:

People should feel comfortable about expressing their opinions about Iraq," Bush said, three days after agreeing with Vice President Dick Cheney that the critics were "reprehensible." (from "Bush Tones Down Attack on Iraq War Critics" By TERENCE HUNT, AP White House Correspondent)

I don't know how I missed this idiocy the other day...self-absorbed maybe...but why?, Why??...WHY???? would our president go to China and try to pressure them into human rights changes while publicly denoucing his own country's "dissidents" as "reprehensible"? Why do we always have to look like we're a nation of the cognitively impaired? Why does he have to represent me on the world stage? I've felt like this ever since I saw a joint press conference he and Chirac did together back before the war began. Chirac was a stateman and carried himself well (no matter how one felt about his position, his professionalism was obvious). Bush spoke as well as the average 7th grade stoner. He lost words, repeated the phrases over and over and over, failed to even approach the subject of questions (forget about answering them), and generally looked confused and a little desperate. He even complained that his ear piece wasn't working when he couldn't understand a French reporter. Unfortunately he did not realize the reporter was speaking English. I think that press conference is the real reason all the Bush supporters boycotted french fries. Even they were humiliated, although they wouldn't accept it was George's fault.

Well, back to cleaning.

The Zoloft Dilemna...

2005-11-18T19:31:00.000-08:00

I take anti-depressants. Most of the time. Sometimes I wake up one day and think "Wow! I'm all better. I don't need these anymore" (or once "There are more pills and vitamins on my plate this morning than toast. I'm not taking any of them anymore) and stop for a week or so, until something comes up to remind me why I remember why I take anti-depressants. Other times I make some change in my morning routine and forget to take them one day. For me no anti-depressants=I can't remember whether I put my shoes on while looking at my feet. So, this might go on for a few days until I look at my little pill organizer and realize there are too many slots still full. That generally explains a lot of thing that happened in the previous 48 hours or so.

Sometimes I like to think that taking anti-depressants is a matter of convenience and how I choose says something about my grit, personal strength and character. It is actually empowering to imagine that when I decide to be strong I will be a healthy person who doesn't take anti-depressants anymore. It is strangely easy, too, to accept that I might just be weak when I'm taking enough anti-depressants. Then I stop for a week or so and remember that my brain just doesn't work right, no matter how much I want to believe it is just a lack of grit, and that someday I will build enough, or earn enough, find enough, and I will be great.

Anyway...I bring this up because I looked at my pill organizer this morning while cleaning up the kitchen and had one of those "uh-oh" moments. "Aaaaaahhhh" I thought to myself, "That's why I have a new blog". So, I popped some Zoloft and went on with my day. Tonight I was watching Madagascar with my daughter (That there is no Shrek, I'll tell you that much) and decided "Who cares if we move to NY? It's just another place. I'm sure it will turn out fine." While that might sound like some sort of calming epiphany, that thought shook me to my core. I have dark circles under my eyes because I've sat awake most nights over the last week trying to sort out whether I can do this move....whether I am emotionally, physically, mentally capable of being a good wife, mother, and person there....Now I have to wonder....no! seriously contemplate, which me is real....If you take any mood altering drugs on a daily basis you probably have a good idea of what I mean.

So, I have to decide...Which one of me gets to make this decision? The paranoid, stressed out, over-thinking one that doesn't sleep? Or the pleasantly optimistic one that really doesn't care one way or the other? However, before the zoloft-taking, agreeable, sleep-craving me goes away for awhile I think I will sleep on it. ;)

New York, New York...

2005-11-17T20:09:00.000-08:00

....How do I loathe thee, let me count the ways.....

Unlike so many of my contemporaries I don't harbor romantic dreams of my life "when I was just starting out". I believe that is because I was just "starting out" in that giant suburb/parking lot known as New Jersey. Don't send me nasty emails...I know there are trees...I know the whole state cannot be distilled down to "which exit"?...and I know there are people there who aren't simply saving to get a place in Manhattan. I still don't like it all that much.

However, my feelings for New Jersey are warm and familial compared to my feelings for the city of New York. I have been to many cities. In a number of these cities English wasn't even the language of choice. All of them had poor, desperate people, sometimes I was one of them. However, the only place I was ever robbed? New York. The only place I've ever seriously feared for my life? New York. The only place I was every hit by a moving vehicle? Left as colateral with the bouncers at a club? Had my shoes stolen? New York, New York, New York.

Don't get me wrong...I love the Met. One of my fantasies is to get locked in the Met, by myself, for some extended period of time with a sketch pad, a mechanical pencil, a case of granola bars and a 1.75L bottle of Jack. I generally really enjoy off-Broadway theater (provided none of my ex-boyfriends are acting in or directing the play). I think Central Park is one of the coolest places on earth. And one of my favorite, melancholy, joyful memories in life was listening to Billy Holiday on a juke box in a Bowery bar (probably gone now...Thanks gentrification. Thanks Rudy.) late at night over one more screw-driver than it was safe for me to consume (An honest thanks to the wonderful bartender who bought me that drink and got me safely in a cab when all the Billy in the juke box had been played). It's all that other stuff I could live without...Crowds for example. Ever tried to do anything without a crowd in New York? Dirt, noise, and people who steal your shoes.

Of course the thing I hate most about New York is my college boyfriend's mother. She was a horror! OMG! I can't even begin to tell you...mostly because I'm afraid it will get back to her and she'll hunt me down and kill me...And what frightens me most about her??? Well, I'll tell you....That I will grow up to be just like her if I try to raise children in New York. There! I said it. Now I can go to sleep tonight and dream good dreams of suburbs and parking lots and parkway exits in New Jersey where I could raise a child who potentially won't hate and fear me.

Shopping

2005-11-16T21:53:00.000-08:00

We might be moving.

My husband wants to change careers.

Believe it or not...these things are connected. What's more, in a round-about sort of way those two things are also the entire subject of this blog. You may need to trust me on this.

So, I've decided that all of the stress and misery of this process gives me the right to shop. I'll have to sell this house, so it should look nice. By nice, I mean it shouldn't look like wild, color-blind monkeys who can't accessorize, run the place. This will be difficult because, (1) my 3 year old is mostly monkey, (2) my husband is indeed color blind, and (3) I only know that "accessorize" is a real word because my mother-in-law likes to watch lots of HGTV and TLC when she comes to visit.

Although we are not still financially struggling, shopping is a novelty to me. Most of my adult life "shopping" meant standing in front of the meat case in the super market hoping someone mislabeled a nice steak as "stew meat". However, even though at this point I can enter the mall without cold sweats, my price sensitivity hasn't changed all that much. I almost fainted when I was looking at sheets in a department store and found out how much people pay for a bunch of fabric that they're going to sweat and drool on(not to mention....stuff I don't want to mention). And why are there blankets worth more than my first car? I understand the basic rule of economics...stuff is worth whatever idiots with money will pay for said stuff...what I don't understand is why there are so many idiots with money.

After I left the mall, I went strait to Target, where I was equally shocked to find out that they thought their bedding was worth roughly a year's salary of the person that had stitched the selvedges. (Honestly, I'm pretty sure that is the official pricing formula for sweat shop supporting mega corp's world wide.(Keep in mind that I am not saying that saying Target is knowingly supporting any sweatshops. (Please don't sue me.)))

Since I don't shop at Wal-mart (but that is a whole other level of rant...another day) I headed home to my precious internet. And that opened a whole other world of problems.

Do you know there is such a thing as a "chocolate fountain"? AND someone will deliver it to your home. It is some sort of heated metal tower over a bowl that continuously pumps melted chocolate up through the center of the tower, so it can run back into the bowl. It holds 5lbs of chocolate. I was not clear on whether the chocolate was included. Man would I be upset to get that thing delivered only to find out I had to drive somewhere to get 5lbs of chocolate....

After I found where I hid my daughter's Halloween stash and had a snack, I went back to shopping for bedding....

Do you know there are slippers that have a battery powered heating device. I once had an electric blanket that shorted out and caught on fire. I caught it pretty quickly and hurled the blanket out of a third floor window into a snow bank. That was fun. However, I wonder what would happen if you were wearing those, and some organic pjs with no flame retardant on them, and they caught on fire. That wouldn't be all that much fun. Of course, I'm not sure that the organic fiber pj consumer group and self-heating slipper consumer group are over-lapping. Now that I think of it though, I don't even know if adult pjs ever have flame retardant. I don't tend to wear pjs. I guess I'll have to look that up later.

Well, after that much shopping, and then writing about it, I'm pretty tired. I guess I'll have to actually buy something the next time I'm stressed over moving....