All Or Nothing

This Is Why We Will NEVER Again Buy Those Evil Girl Scout Cookies

Blog Share Guest Post: Dear Mom

Dear Mom:

You’ve told me more than once that you adore a letter I wrote to you when I was in college. I don’t remember writing this letter, but you tell me it was full of apologies for being such a difficult child, teen, young adult. It doesn’t surprise me that I wrote this letter; I was difficult and I knew it. I guess that after I matured and gained some perspective, I felt the need to acknowledge it. I was probably hoping it would open a dialogue that might bring us closer.

Instead, when you talk about it you use it as a weapon in your arsenal. I wish I’d never written that letter. When you bring it up I feel bad about myself all over again. I’ve worked so hard to become a good woman and it only takes a few words from you to demolish it all.

I admit I was wantonly headstrong and willful and defied authority every chance I got. You had no idea how to help me refine those traits into something productive. I get it.

But more than that, I’m pissed off that you’ve never apologized to me. Have you forgotten that every counseling session you ever took me to ended with the counselor talking to you about parenting and we would never go back, even when I asked? Have you forgotten that you forced me out of the house a week before my 18th birthday without any concern for where I would go or what would happen to me? Have you forgotten that you slept with a boyfriend of mine and I caught you? Have you forgotten that you told me I could come home when I caught my husband cheating on me and then changed your mind the very moment I left him? Have you forgotten that you were an adult when you made these decisions?

Are you not aware that these things hurt me deeply? Can you take responsibility for them? I’ll never know the answers because you refuse to communicate in a meaningful way with me. Sure, we talk and we have a relationship, but only because I finally realized that if it was to be I had to act the way you think I should when I am with you. It was even harder to realize that sometimes it still isn’t enough.
All I ever wanted was for you to accept me for who I am. Why can’t you do that? Why do I have to walk on eggshells with you? Why do I have to tailor myself in order to have a relationship with you? I’ve been willing to do these things for a long time, but I’m not sure I’m up for it anymore. I question whether it’s worth it. It’s incredibly draining and I am running out of the will to do it.

Finally, at 38 years old I’ve reached to a point where I actually like me. Lots of other people like me, too. Why can’t you? Why can’t you let go of who you think I am and see me for who I really am? Why are you so predisposed to think that I’m an asshole? A couple years back I masochistically asked you how you described me to your friends. You replied, “I tell them my daughter is mean.” I am my own harshest critic and your words cut me to my core.

How could any mother say the things you have said to me? How could any mother do the things you’ve done to me? How could any mother not apologize for them voluntarily? I’m willing to accept responsibility for my faults and shortcomings. Why can’t you?

I don’t have the answers to any of these questions and I likely never will. If I am to have peace and other meaningful relationships, I have to abandon my need for your approval and understand that the only person I have to answer to is me. I’m working on it. I still love you, but I can’t need you anymore.

Me

I AM Productive

So, I'm sick.  I know, I know, it's SO unoriginal, getting sick in February, right when everyone ELSE gets sick.  Trust me, I tried my very best to avoid it, just so that I would still look cool.  Unfortunately, all my tactics failed and so here I am, laying in bed, playing online LOST trivia nonstop.  Hence the nod to productivity up there.  I've got like, 14000 points!  I'm a LOST Savant!  Speaking of, what is up with some of the questions on that trivia game?  What color was the third stripe on the fourth car to pass Jack in his flashback in the second episode of season two?  I mean, I know the answer's green, but really.  Is it imperative to the plot? 

Probably.  LOST is so confusing.

Anyway, as scintillating as all that was, I wasn't just logging on to tell you how I'm sick (boring) or all about LOST trivia (productive!).  Rather, I wanted to let everyone know that tomorrow is Blog Share day (as conceived and put together by the fabulous -R-) and so I will be posting anonymously on someone else's blog while someone else (do you see where this is going?) will be posting anonymously right here.  So, if you're out and about on the interwebs tomorrow and happen to stop by this site, you'll be reading Anon Poster!  Leave the AP comments if you like!  Give AP accolades and praises!  Or, if you REALLY want to stir things up, ask AP some LOST trivia questions.  I'd be willing to place a wager that AP wouldn't know the answer to that stripe question.

And All The Stuff That Comes Along

First and foremost, let me extend a very happy CONGRATULATIONS to my friend Jen, over at Operation Pink Herring, who has gone and gotten herself engaged.  Jen is my friend in blogging, crazy pet ownership, and general OCD-ishness. 

Also Jen, like me, occasionally finds herself telling accidental lies, not of her own volition, and only on RARE OCCASIONS, and only for really good reasons, such as telling the jeweler that she HAD to have her ring back and sized by today because she was having an engagement party.  Which, at the time, she was not.  But now you are, Jen!  It's not a lie!  Congratulations on being a truth-teller!  And with that, here's my contribution for you and your honey.  I was going to give advice, and then I was going to try something funny like Janet did, but then I remembered that all I can really do is tell stories, so a story is what you're getting. 

When I met Cody, I was deep in the throes of my Anti-Engagement/Anti-Wedding Movement.  This was a movement to which I subscribed heavily in the years 2001-2003, give or take.  Unsurprisingly, I have recently found myself ensconced in a similar movement, the Anti-Baby-Having Movement of '06-'08.  Both movements were founded after a whole slew of friends of mine either A) got engaged and subsequently married or B) got pregnant and subsequently had a baby.  And I was not doing either of those things, at either of those times, respectively.  You might think that these "movements" were based solely and completely on jealousy, but I'm not fond of that type of self-awareness; instead I like to wallow around in largely unexamined feelings and base my decisions on a whole lot of nothing.  It's something I've always been proud of.

Anyway!

I "met" Cody (I say "met" because we had actually known of each other for quite a long time, but had never exchanged more than a sentence or two in all that time) on New Year's Eve of 2003.  My best friend in the entire world was about to get engaged, had been moving towards that finality for quite some time, and I happened to have the exclusive knowledge that It was going to happen that very night.  I was happy for my best friend - thrilled - but I was feeling more than a little left out.  Of course I was NOT going to express that most selfish of reactions to her, nor to any of our similar friends.  Actually, I was just planning on keeping the whole horrible thing to myself, but when I found out that I would be giving Cody, an older brother of my brother's best friend, a ride to Dallas, I had a captive audience; I figured why not?  Poor Cody got the whole earful.  He and I would more than likely never talk again after the ride to and from Dallas that weekend, and we had virtually no friends in common.  If ever there was a chance for some free vent therapy, this was it.  And so I went on and on about how I just didn't understand the appeal of marriage, the whole spending your ENTIRE LIFE with the same person, the whole coming home every single night to the same thing, dinner at 6:30 and the evening news and in bed by 11pm.  It sounded so horrible to me, so boring, so unfit to my personality.  Cody not only agreed with every single point I had, but also seemed to have put thought into the subject on his own, and had well-formed opinions eerily similar to mine. 

Turned out Cody had quite the slew of friends who had either recently tied the knot or were getting ready to, and he was nowhere near being ready to do the same.  Having found that we had a lot more in common than we knew, Cody and I proceeded to make great conversation all the way to Dallas.  I dropped him off at his party, left to meet my girlfriends for an evening of New Year's salsa dancing, and found myself counting down the minutes to when I could pick Cody up the next morning.  This was not in my plan.

Cody's mother, who had always been a friend of my family, had invited me about a week prior to drive up to Houston with her to see a Monet exhibit at the museum there.  I had absolutely no intention of taking her up on this invite, but had responded with the typical "sounds fun, I'll have to see what's going on", thinking that obviously New Years Day, after a long night out, would be an excuse in and of itself not to drive to Houston.  However, after my unexpected discovery the night before, the one where I realized that spending time with Cody seemed like a very good plan and should be acted upon, I decided I would do some sneaky work and try to find out whether Cody was going to the museum.  I'm not sure if he was planning on going beforehand or if he was having a similar decision-making process as I was, but on our drive back from Dallas I managed not only to ascertain that Cody was going to Houston, but also that he was now in the position of trying to convince ME to go as well.  Me, who already wanted to go anyway.  Oh dating power play, how I miss you.

Anyway, I did go to Houston, and after we got back from Houston I managed to finagle a situation where my brother, Cody's little brother, and Cody all ended up at my parents house to watch a football game.  Where, of course, I would handily be as well, looking all cute; just a coincidence.  The football game ended, and SOMEHOW the four of us (two little brothers and their two enamored siblings) went to a movie.   About halfway through the movie I started feeling a little ballsy and also somewhat impatient.  If you know me, I'm sure this mix of emotions is not shocking, and then neither would be my next move, which was to kind of move my right arm near Cody's, put my hand near my shoulder so that my fingers were lightly grazing his arm, and move my fingers JUST A TINY BIT.  Just enough so that he wouldn't mistake it for accidental contact, or even for the "accidental" contact that everyone knows ISN'T accidental but could be explained away as such.  No, this was obvious, and I did it for the express purpose of seeing his reaction.  He seemed game.  But I still wasn't sure.

After the movie was over, I decided that the only way I would know for sure how Cody felt is if I just came right out and asked.  I had figured that I was going back to Lubbock to finish up one last class and figure out when to move out to California for law school.  I certainly didn't have time to waste wondering about some guy, and whether my crush was unrequited.  So I asked him.  "Do you just think of me as Nathan (my brother)'s sister, or what?  Because I like you, but I don't want to sit around wondering whether you like me if you're just thinking I'm a cute kid or whatever."  Cody was taken aback, this being not his style at all; in fact this being THE OPPOSITE of his style.  His style is more like, wait around for a really long time and hopefully everything will work out with no conflict whatsoever and if it doesn't then it's okay because it's taken so long I've probably forgotten what I wanted anyway.  Which, dude.  I SO don't work that way.

So I asked, and he was taken aback, but in a good way, the way where I could tell he did like me (I mean, let's be honest - I'm not THAT brave - I had a good feeling about it before I asked).  Cody told me that he had a girlfriend (! news to me) and that it was pretty much over with her and had been for a while but that he didn't want to talk about how he might feel about me or do anything about it until he had officially ended it with her.  I figured that seemed like a good plan, and he broke up with her two days later.  The day after that we met for lunch, this was around January 9 or 10, 2004.  We got engaged in early March, and married in August. 

It was just so obvious, so completely obvious right from the start, that we were meant to be together.  Suddenly I wasn't worried about boring nights at home with the same guy, over and over, like some sick sort of Marriage Groundhog Day.  I wasn't worried about how I would manage to turn my irresponsible, fun-loving self into a mature, responsible homemaker.  I wasn't worried about developing an interest in the evening news, or somehow knowing how to cook meals that were ready by the time he got home from work, or any of that.  Because I knew our marriage would be nothing like that, because WE were nothing like that.  Our relationship was like exactly no one else's, and because of that I knew our marriage would be completely unique as well.  All the little things we thought and enjoyed and spent time doing as a dating couple, well, that was the same sort of thing we'd do as a married couple.  Only it would be easier!  And neither of us would have to go home at night.

And just yesterday, more than four years later, Cody sat across from me at a Mexican restaurant, celebrating the birth of our newest niece, talking about how what our life with kids would be like, and deciding that it would be like no one else's.  That we would do our own thing, and the ways we would manage to figure out how to deal with the sleeping issues and the babysitting issues and all the things that come along would be unique to us, because we are unique.  And suddenly Cody looked at me, and started laughing, and said "this is all such an adventure, isn't it?"

And he's right.  Congratulations, Jen, and I can't wait to hear about your adventure.

See, You And Me Have A Better Time Than Most Can Dream

So, we just had Super Tuesday, and boy was it Super!  Ha!  Actually, it wasn't all that Super, but compared to last Tuesday, it was SUBLIME.

You see, last Tuesday wasn't exactly what you might call a banner day for my lovely husband.  Or, if you look at it another way, maybe it was THE banner day for Cody.  See?  It's always a glass half empty or full thing, isn't it?

The day started off innocently enough; Cody got up and went to work and I got up and took the high-maintenance princess dog to her bi-weekly vet appointment.  Around lunchtime, I found myself on the side of town near Cody's office, and called him up to see if he wanted to go on a little lunch date.  He did, and so I drove over and picked him up.  We left in my car, and the important thing to remember here is that in asking him to lunch, I was totally disrupting his normal schedule of getting things done in the most confusing, scrambled, backwards way possible.  It's a very complicated technique that works exclusively for him.

I was hungry and felt like Mexican, so we headed to my number one favorite place in town.  Just as we were pulling into the turn lane in front of the restaurant, we heard the unmistakable "flap, flap, flap" sound that can only mean a flat tire.  I looked at Cody and remarked that it was a good thing he was already with me; otherwise he would have been receiving a phone call right about then.  We parked, ascertained that the tire had some large metal pokey thing sticking out of it, thought we'd try to make it to the tire repair place without changing to the spare, and went in to eat lunch.  After lunch and a successful trip to the tire shop, we settled into the red plastic waiting room chairs to...well...wait. 

I, quickly bored with out-of-date car magazines (I like my car specs CURRENT, you know), decided to play on the Internet with my phone, and after a few minutes of that, decided to be a good wife and check Cody's work email to make sure his answering service hadn't scheduled appointments over lunch that he didn't know about.  The very first email on the page was from the answering service so I clicked on it and read the following:  EMERGENCY, CALLER STATES THAT OFFICE DOOR IS UNLOCKED AND THERE ARE PATIENTS INSIDE OFFICE WAITING WITH NO STAFF MEMBERS TO ASSIST.

I sucked in my breath and sat back, trying to quickly digest what such a message would mean to Cody, who was currently sitting next to me, blissfully reading an article about the newest thing in 2002 trucks, stuck at the tire repair shop with no escape. 

"Ummm..." I said aloud.  Cody continued reading.  "Uhhh...Code?" I tried again.

"Yeah?" came the absentminded answer; he was still looking at the magazine.

"Well, I think, maybe, that your office door....do you think you locked it?  For sure?"  I've got his full attention now, and I can see in his eyes that he's not sure if he locked the door; he's never been sure his entire life if he's locked any door.

"Yeah, I think I locked it - why?"  He looks panicky.

"Well, your answering service emailed you and said it was unlocked and there are patients inside and they are sitting there and no one is there to help them, and actually, what they said was that the wife of the doctor who shares that office space is the one who called them to let them know because she came up there to get a chart and found it that way....ummmm...." I trailed off. 

Cody has jumped out of his chair; he's looking wild-eyed and frantic.  I tell him he should call the other doctor's wife, and maybe the other doctor as well, because as we've been talking he's received three new messages from his answering service, all detailing the unlocked and unmanned state of the office.  Cody grabs his phone and runs outside to make calls.  I sit inside, silently willing the tire people to finish quickly.  Thankfully they do finish up in the next five minutes and we race back to Cody's office where he jumps out of the car to try and do some damage control.  After receiving assurances that no, there is REALLY NOTHING I can do, please stop asking, I leave to go home and research available office space online.

A few hours later, after the work day is over, I call Cody to see how things turned out.  He's surprisingly upbeat about the situation, telling me that nothing was out of place, and that there really weren't all that many patients in there; he thought it was all going to be okay.  He segues into a story about "the craziest patient he's ever had", and regales me with a story he apparently thinks I will find hilarious.  Here's the story: 

Cody got a new patient, and boy is she crazy!  I mean, she is the kind of crazy that you can't ignore; it radiates around her like a force field, and she's just the type of person you know will have all sorts of weird circumstances at all time.  I mean, take today!  She comes in for her appointment, and has her friend drop her off.  Cody tells her that the first appointment won't take that long, and does she maybe want to have her friend wait?  She says no, her friend isn't really a friend but rather someone doing a favor and won't wait on her regardless of the time.  He asks how she'll get home and she says she doesn't know.  Yeah!  Crazy!  So then the appointment is over, and he sees some more patients, and she's just waiting in the waiting room.  Time goes by, and pretty soon it's the end of the day and she's still there.  She has no way of getting home, nor any plans to make a way to get home.  So, Cody decides what would be best would be to drive her home.  Yes, that's clearly a good idea, so that's what he does, he drives the crazy lady home, just him and her in the car together, all the way to the other side of town.  Yep, that's PRETTY CRAZY, CODE.

I am nonplussed by the story.  I ask him what in the world made him think that was a good idea.  He says, in his typical, good-hearted way, that it seemed like the right thing to do.  I say yes, if all things were perfect and we lived in RainbowWorld that would be the right thing to do.  But since we don't, it was probably more of a GET SUED AND LOSE YOUR LICENSE thing to do.  He doesn't understand why I am concerned about the decision.  I ask him not to tell anyone else what he's done just yet, because they will most certainly be more concerned than me.  I get back online to start researching new careers for Cody.

About an hour later I am getting ready to meet a friend for a movie.  Cody is still at work, and I see that high-maintenance princess dog's water dish is empty.  I turn on the tap to fill it up, and....no water.  This is strange, and so I try the bathroom sink.  No dice.  I try to flush a toilet.  Nothing.  I go to the garage to see if I can figure out what's going on (note: this is ridiculous because why would I be able to ascertain anything by looking in the garage?  oh, on this model of water tank, when the valve is pointing to that number, well, that means the pressure's all wrong, and the meter's not reading right...yeah) and the hot water heater is making a really weird noise.  I call Cody, and I'm annoyed.  I mean, seriously, what is going on?  I ask him if he's got any idea why we've suddenly got no water, and it's like magic - I can somehow see, over the phone, the exact face he's making, and it's the face that means OH NO I SCREWED UP.  He doesn't even have to say it, I know he forgot to pay the water bill.  He confirms this, and I can't think of a single thing to say.  So I say okay, and goodbye, and get in my car so that I can make it to the movie on time.

As I'm driving to the movie, I experience the weirdest mix of emotions I've ever felt.  On the one hand, I'm frustrated.  And I'm thinking I have every right to be frustrated.  I mean, seriously, who leaves their office unlocked and unattended for over an hour, drives an insane patient home alone, and then forgets to pay the water bill, effectively cutting off one of the few things actually necessary for survival, all in one day?  On the other hand, I'm thinking the same exact thing, but suddenly I can hardly keep myself from giggling.  Who does that?  Cody does that.  My Cody does that.  And all at once, it's like the floodgates open and I'm sitting in my car at a stoplight, laughing out loud and thinking about how much I love that guy.  Because seriously, are any of those things REALLY that big of a deal?  The office thing could have been bad, but nothing happened; the crazy lady thing could still turn out to be bad, but we can get her to sign something and mitigate that situation, and the water?  I mean, Cody could be a multi-billionaire and we would still get our water turned off.  He just forgets stuff; he always has and he always will.  If I'm going to get mad about not having water for a night every once in a while, or maybe dining by candlelight once or twice, then I better be prepared to waste a lot of time being unnecessarily angry.

The more I thought about it the more I couldn't stop picturing Cody as this hapless cartoon character, stumbling through life, being a good guy, making jokes, and somehow always having things work out in the end.  He's such a great guy - full of love and life and laughter - and I wouldn't trade any of those things for the world.

Especially not for one extra night of water.  I mean, let's be serious.  Cody totally gift-wrapped me a golden excuse for why I hadn't showered the next day.  Normally I have to make stuff up.

Don't It Bring Ya Back?

I was thinking, what might be fun is if I went back into my archives, picked one post from four years ago today, and posted it.  That would be fun, right?  Turns out there was only one post in the whole month of February '04 from which to pick.  Obviously I have not improved on my posting quantity skills.  Also, when I started out on this idea I forgot it wasn't January anymore, and as I perused old January posts I realized why I never post old stuff, even when I am feeling completely devoid of anything interesting to say.  Archives are just like reading old journals.  Embarrassing, uncomfortable, squirmy, full of grammar and syntax errors, and only occasionally interesting.  Of course NOW I'm not like that at all.  All my entries are awesome, nowadays.  I mean, obviously.

However!  I am going to post the February 2004 entry because, in a lucky twist of fate, I was having a conversation JUST THE OTHER DAY with SOMEONE, and I was telling this SOMEONE that I had actually really hated Alex Rodriguez (horribly overpaid baseball player) for ages, even when he played for the Texas Rangers.  This SOMEONE didn't believe me, and contested that I only recently jumped on the whole A-Rod Hatemobile, after everyone else started realizing his inherent suckiness.  Ha!  Not true.  And, as you shall soon see, history will prove me right, once again.  Or, you know.  This one time.

(Also, feel free to ignore point 1.  Do you remember this interview?  Neither do I)

(Also also!  I miss Snake II.  I haven't had a phone with any sort of fun games in ages.  Sure I've got the Internet and Bluetooth, but what happened to the really good stuff?)

February 17, 2004 in Daily, Sports, Webpage | Permalink

A Random But Important Listing of Items

1. Mel Gibson's interview with Diane Sawyer last night: I thought he did a great job. I am wondering what the rest of you might have thought. If you didn't see it, find someone who taped it or tivo-ed it and take a look.

2. Technology: Whenever I play Snake II on my cell phone, I play it on the highest level (obviously, as this is the only good way to get the most points quickly). However, lately my phone has, instead of saying "New Game" when I die, started an annoying and presumptious habit of asking me (in what I can only imagine as a very condesending tone) "New Level?". If I wanted a new freaking level, I would put it on a new level. I don't need my cell phone or anyone else to ask me if I am capable of performing on a certain level. How audacious.

3. A-Rod Trade: I hated A-Rod even when he played for the Rangers. 25 million is an unbelievably ridiculous salary for anyone, and the fact that the Rangers needed pitchers more than anything else and spent their entire freaking cash allowance on A-Rod, and that he happily allowed it, is annoying. And dumb. I'm glad he's gone. "But", you say, "even to the Yankees, Elise? How can you want anyone to go to the Yankees?" Now I don't hate the Yankees like everyone loves to do, but I don't like them, either. And I don't like the fact that they just stack the heck out of their team and take all the sportsmanship out of the game. However, it is because of this that I feel A-Rod is exactly where he belongs. He is a player who makes $175,000 every game, regardless of what he does, and he is now playing for a team who is more than likely going to win, no matter what they do, because they have the money to buy the best team in baseball. The common theme is fairly obvious. Birds of a feather, you know? He's gonna be right at home in New York.