Saturday night's alright for whining

Posted on September 5, 2009 by Cindy

Yesterday was a day of suckage the likes of which we haven’t seen for a while. FYI, this post is going to contain a lot of whining and it’s all very stream-of-consciousness blurted out by a crazy person in the midst of major sleep deprivation. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

1. We found out that we will not, in fact, have our money from the UK in time for our closing date on Friday, the 11th. The sellers have the right to completely back out of the deal and keep our earnest money that we put down, which we’re praying they don’t do. Hopefully they’ll just allow the closing date to get bumped further out. Again.

Meanwhile, this house that we’re currently living in has been re-rented, and the new tenants are moving in on Saturday, the 12th. So, we’re still moving out on the 11th, with nowhere to go. We’ll be putting our stuff in storage and then moving into a hotel, or with Cat & Tony, or who knows what. And then we also have to figure out what to do with the cats – our awesome neighbors have offered to help us out with them, so that’s a huge plus. Still, there are about 10,000 other details that we’re going to have to figure out in the next week. I’m not so much looking forward to that.

2. My dad’s cousin that I mentioned earlier is really not doing well. She has pneumonia, she can’t speak, they’re keeping her sedated, and the doctors expect that she’ll die sometimes in the next three days or so. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take off and fly to Mississippi for a funeral if Catie is sick and we’re in the middle of moving, but I’m going to try and do what I can.

3. Catie is sick. I’m praying that it’s just a bad cold and not H1N1, but the poor kid is really miserable. The cold triggers her asthma, so we’ve been having to give her medication through the nebulizer every couple of hours. As a result, none of us are getting very much sleep, so our house is not a very fun place right now. She started barfing tonight, but my Mommy Ninja Skills (acquired through countless other episodes of puking from this kid) meant that only one barf ended up on my socks, and none of them fully hit me. The rest I caught in a mixing bowl, and even managed to grab her hair with my other hand to keep her from puking in it. I’m telling y’all, that is talent. If only I could figure out a way to make money off of that type of skill… well, we wouldn’t be having issues with our house financing, that’s for sure.

* However, there was one good thing that happened yesterday: I got a job! Kind of a surprise because I went into the interview with zero expectations, but I’m going to be doing some freelance technical writing for a new, local software company. It should be a lot of fun, and the extra money will be really nice, so I’m excited about that.

But yeah, even in spite of the job news, it’s not so much a fun holiday weekend here with the sick toddler, terminally ill family member, and house troubles. I’m praying Catie sleeps a little better tonight, since I think that one solid night’s sleep alone would probably help improve my outlook drastically. Here’s hoping!

on parents & aging

Posted on September 2, 2009 by Cindy

I generally have a policy of not writing anything on my blog that might potentially offend anyone in my family. I envy the bloggers who are willing to put it all out there, no holds barred, but that isn’t me. Most of the people in my family don’t read this site, but it’s not anonymous and they could find me easily enough, so I try to be careful.

That said, I’m about to write something here that might get me in trouble later. And I don’t care, I need to get this off my chest.

My mom recently had all of our old home movies burned to DVD, and she made copies for me, my brother, and my sister. Today I’ve been playing around with the files to make short little snippets that I can stick on YouTube. I keep watching this one – a trip to the Mississippi Gulf Coast when I was around 6 months old (when my sister was almost-6 years old and my mom wasn’t even pregnant with my brother yet) – and I keep crying when I watch it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pt04gvNQhpk

A little bit of me is crying because I really miss both of my grandparents. My dad’s parents. I wrote a little about my grandaddy here, and I haven’t written much about my grandmother. She died when I was 20. I don’t really know what to write about her. She adored us – her three grandchildren – and we miss her.

Another little bit of me is crying because my mom does that thing she does in every home movie we have, which is that you only see her for a split-second (in this case, at the very end of the video), and she waves the camera away. She always thought she was too fat and ugly to be filmed. I wish I could go back in time to tell her how gorgeous she was. And I make a vow to myself to be in more home movies so Catie will grow up and know what her mother looked like when she was in her 30s.

Mostly, though, I’m crying about my dad. He looks so young in that video. I don’t really remember him ever looking that young. (Although, he still has those farmer’s tan lines, courtesy of his thrice-weekly golf game.) I think of my dad as always having looked like this.

And I’m crying because I don’t remember him ever beaming at me with that new-dad pride that he has in this video. That’s the kind of adoring look he gives Catie. I didn’t think it was ever directed at me. To say that my dad and I have a difficult relationship is an understatement, but I’ll leave that for another post. I just really hate that I don’t remember that look.

My dad is 73. For the past couple of years, it’s been obvious that his memory is slipping. It keeps getting worse. I don’t know if it’s Alzheimer’s, or some other form of dementia, or maybe he’s having small strokes (he’s suddenly been having headaches, which he’s never had in his life). It’s impossible to diagnose because he refuses to admit any of it to his doctor. My mom is a wreck about it. Last year, she called his doctor’s office and told them to do a neurological work-up on him when he went in for his annual physical. The doctor refused. If my dad won’t seek help for himself, and the doctor won’t help, what other recourse is there?

Just as a few examples, in the last couple of years:
* He forgot where a major street in my hometown is located. He’s lived there for the past 39 years.
* He & I had a major blow-up fight last September, which he’s forgotten entirely. I guess I should be glad he’s forgotten it & isn’t holding a grudge, but it’s also frustrating that it got us nowhere.
* He took Catie for a walk in our neighborhood by himself, and he didn’t pay attention when she said she wanted to get down. She tried to squirm out of the stroller, and she ended up getting stuck with her head caught between the seat & the snack tray, while my dad obliviously kept pushing the stroller until she started to scream. He panicked & didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, a neighbor came along just then & showed him how to remove the snack tray so he could get her out. But she could’ve been really hurt, and that’s when Dave & I realized my dad can’t take Catie on outings by himself anymore. Which breaks my heart.

The latest thing is his cousin. My dad is an only child, but his cousin Sue (who everyone calls Bee-bee, and don’t ask why, I don’t have a reason except that we’re from Mississippi) is the closest thing he has to a sibling. Bee-bee has been very ill for a long time with a number of health problems. She’s spent months in the hospital. We’ve known for the past year or so that she could die at any time.

Bee-bee recently went into the hospital again, and this time, things look really bad. The doctors aren’t terribly optimistic about her prognosis. Her daughter called my mom to give her the latest update. When my mom got off the phone and repeated the news to my dad, he was stunned. He didn’t remember that she’d been sick. Now he has to grieve this loss all over again. And when she inevitably dies (whether that’s next week, or next month, or next year), he’ll have to grieve it all over again, because he will have forgotten. Again.

I don’t have words for how upsetting all of this is for my family. I’m not terribly close with my dad’s side of the family, but of course my heart breaks for all of them. For Bee-bee’s husband of 55+ years (they got married as teenagers), for her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. But especially for my dad.

I’ve decided that Catie and I will be flying to Mississippi for Bee-bee’s funeral, whenever that may be. I feel like I need to be there for my dad. It’s all I can do, really. I just need to be there.

a Facebook etiquette question

Posted on August 14, 2009 by Cindy

Last November, I went home for Thanksgiving and while I was in town, my sister & I attended a mini-reunion of a bunch of people that we went to high school with, who all happened to be in town for the holidays (and some who are still local). During that get-together, this picture was taken:

That’s me in the flowery shirt on the left, and my gorgeous sister is in the middle in blue.

If you click through to Flickr, you’ll see that my caption for the guy on the far right is “some dude I don’t know.” Well, I do know who he is now, because he’s added me as a friend on Facebook. Which is weird, because we only met that one time and I don’t remember him from high school at all. I only recognize his last name because I kinda-sorta knew his younger brother (or I should say, I recognized his brother’s name; I don’t know if we ever spoke to each other in high school). My sister had no clue who he was either, even though he was closer to her grade. But yeah, ok, we have like 15 Facebook friends in common, so sure I’ll add you. Why not?

Here’s the weird thing: that picture up there? He has that set as his profile picture. WTF? I’m guessing he likes that there’s a picture of himself with 5 attractive women, but since neither my sister nor I really know him at all, I thought it was borderline creepy that we’re in his profile picture. But eh, ok, I let it go. But that’s kind of weird, isn’t it?

Now, though, I’m starting to get really annoyed, because he keeps making these outrageous political statements on Facebook (i.e., one of his status updates said, “Oboma [sic] is such a liar!!!”), and he answers Facebook polls with “Absolutely!” on the “Would you vote Sarah Palin for president in 2012?” question. So, basically, all of this far-right rhetoric is popping up… with my sister’s and my faces right next to it. And since I’m pretty much the polar opposite end of the spectrum, I really don’t like this at all. (I think I can safely say for my sister that she wouldn’t care much for it either, but I don’t know if she’s noticed it yet.)

So, my question is, can I send him a very polite private message on Facebook, and just say, hey look, you’re 100% entitled to your opinions, but I’d prefer if you use a different profile picture because I don’t want people to associate my face with that kind of talk? Or do I just have to suck it up & ignore it?

lessons learned the hard way

Posted on August 4, 2009 by Cindy

So, the past several days have been sort of a whirlwind of emotions for us, dealing with the whole Brittany situation. (I can’t link to her blog anymore, since it no longer exists.) I’m betting that the majority of you who read this blog already know the situation, so I won’t get into it. If you don’t know it, you can email me (see my little “Contact” page above), but chances are, if you haven’t heard the story by now, it’s probably none of your business.

Suffice to say, the whole thing has left Dave and I feeling very hurt and angry. We feel manipulated. We feel used. And we also feel very sad for a young woman who is severely messed up and needs a profound amount of help.

I wrote last week that I won’t let one bad situation keep me from feeling compassion for others. I absolutely stand by that. If a person seems to be in genuine need, I will try to help them out whenever possible.

But, I have learned one valuable lesson through all of this. And this is a big lesson. I feel like I should cross-stitch it onto a pillow or something, it’s that important. And the lesson is this:

Don’t invite people from Twitter to your house.

Seriously. Just don’t. No good will come of it.

You’re welcome.

P.S. Yeah, I’m trying to find the humor in the situation. It’s difficult. I’ll try to be funnier next time.

karma

Posted on July 30, 2009 by Cindy

I believe in karma.

Admittedly, I’m not a Buddhist, so maybe I’m not an expert on the exact definition of karma. But I believe in the basic principle that what comes around goes around. That if you try to put positive things out into the world, positive things will come back to you. Same is true for the negative.

About seven years ago, I had a job that required me to drive all over the greater Seattle area on a daily basis. I’d start my day at my company’s office in Redmond (a relatively posh suburb), then set off from there to whatever client’s office needed me. If I knew that my day’s agenda involved going through downtown Seattle, I knew there was a good chance that I’d pass a homeless person on the side of the road. I always felt guilty about just driving past them. Sometimes I’d give them a couple of quarters or whatever spare change I had in my car’s cup holder, but it never felt like enough. But with that job, I never carried cash on me (too risky), so what else could I do?

One day, when I heard I was going to be heading into Seattle, I stopped at the 7-11 next to my office to buy a Diet Coke before I set off. I decided to also grab a couple of other things – a sandwich and a bottle of water – to take with me. When I saw a frail old man standing at the end of the I-5 off-ramp with his cardboard sign, I rolled down my window and handed them to him.

Later that day, my boss called me into his office and gave me a raise. No lie. I was not expecting any sort of payoff that fast, but that’s how it worked for me. From that point on, I always stopped at 7-11 to get food for the homeless people I would pass, and those days always ended up being my best days. It became something of a habit for me.

In fact, I gave some sort of snack (I think it was just some peanut butter crackers that I happened to have in my laptop bag) to a homeless person on May 24, 2004. Later that evening, I had a first date with a cute British guy that had contacted me through match.com.

Yeah. That was Dave.

Now, is there some cosmic connection there, like would I have not met Dave (or would we not have “clicked” as much as we did) if I hadn’t given crackers to a homeless guy earlier that day? Probably not. Our date had been scheduled for a couple of days, I don’t think it had much to do with the homeless guy. But I like to think that the two things are related. That because I did a good deed, something good (in this case, Dave) came to me.

There are also times when I’ve tried to do something good for someone, and it’s backfired horribly. Either my motives were misinterpreted, or the person took advantage of my generosity and I was left feeling used and horrible. But for every one of those experiences, there are so many more where the rewards were a million times better than whatever my small gesture was.

I refuse to let the negative experiences make me cynical or jaded. I will not sacrifice my desire to help people who are truly in need, just because of a few “bad eggs.” If I honestly know that my motives are pure, then I have to believe that something good will result from it. Even if it takes me a while to see it, I have to believe that the positive is there, somewhere.

my little BlogHer recap

Posted on July 26, 2009 by Cindy

BlogHer was amazing, as I expected. I know tons of people are going to write posts about it, far more eloquently than I can – although, let’s be fair, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage since I’m pounding this out on the airplane with the most epic hangover I’ve had in years. (Typing blog posts in MS Word to copy & paste later, can I get an amen?)

(Also: the last time I had to get on a plane while hungover-or-possibly-still-drunk-from-the-night-before was when my cousin Teresa passed away in 2004. And even though the circumstances around last night’s alcohol consumption were much more joyous this time [celebrating new friendships rather than mourning a horrible loss], flying with a hangover sucks exactly as much as I remember.)

(Also also: hi parentheses! Prepare to be overused. My brain is basically one giant non-sequitur today.)

So, yes. I met tons of bloggers that I adore. The few “rock star” bloggers that I got the nerve to talk to were all lovely and sweet and completely gracious. Some were a little shy and awkward (which, yeah ok, I sort of forget that we’re all basically nerds; I keep thinking that I’m the only one), and some were a lot warmer than I expected and gave me big hugs. I was surprised at how many people knew my name – or rather, my Twitter handle. (Another parenthetical aside: it was VERY weird to introduce myself as PooBou for 3 days. No one actually calls me that in real life, but after a while I just kind of got used to it.)

Then, of course, there are the bloggers who I talk online with a lot, and I was worried that our online connection wouldn’t translate to real life. And you know? It totally translated. From the second I met them in person, it felt like I was just hanging out with old friends who I’ve known for years. Like there’s already an established history, it was totally comfortable and easy. I loved that.

I didn’t attend as many sessions as I wanted. Some I intentionally skipped because they just didn’t apply to me, or because I needed a nap, or because I went wandering through downtown Chicago to go meet up with an old friend (who I’ve known literally since the day my parents brought me home from the hospital, and who I hadn’t seen in over a decade). (Hi, Dendy!) Then there were a few sessions that I really wanted to attend, but they were in tiny conference rooms that I couldn’t get into. People were lined up in the hallways trying to cram themselves in, and just couldn’t. (So, if any BlogHer people read this: bigger conference rooms for the Room of Your Own sessions next year, please!) The best part of the sessions by far was the Community Keynote speeches at the end of the first day. I’ll post a link when it’s online, but seriously, I was doing the full-on ugly cry during a few of them, and almost peeing myself laughing during the others. Anyone who says that bloggers aren’t really writers should watch those.

Of course, you can’t get 1,400 women together without some drama. There were rumors about some illicit affairs happening between bloggers (which I’m 99.9% sure were all b.s.), and there were some women there who got nicknamed “swag whores” because they were literally shoving people out of the way to grab all the free stuff they could. Fortunately for me, I didn’t witness any of that, I just heard about it from other people. I’m generally not a fan of drama, so I’m honestly relieved that I missed all of that and it didn’t put a damper on the experience for me.

Overall, it was great. The swag is nice, sure. I got some cool toys to bring home to Catie. (And some for myself – ahem *thank you room 704 ladies, mwah!* cough cough.) And I got to meet Tim Gunn and have my picture taken with him, which was awesome. (And I’m waiting for the Tide people to post the picture so I can nab it, but they haven’t yet. Argh!) I was in head-to-toe Old Navy, I felt totally unfashionable, but he was so kind and funny and wonderful that I didn’t even care. Plus I made him laugh, and I didn’t accidentally say the f-word in front of him or anything, so bonus points for me.

But the whole point of going to BlogHer for me was to learn more about great writing in this space, to meet the other bloggers that I love, to hang out, and to have fun. So really, the highlight of the weekend was just sitting around a hotel with some insanely talented, hilarious, smart and just effing fantastic people who I absolutely adore, and who I am so proud to call my friends.

So, thank you so much. To Greis, Krystle, Jen, Dawn, VDog, Mrs. Flinger, BJ, Maura, Meghan, Heather, and soooo many other people I can’t even name them all, who made this weekend so completely wonderful and fun. I love y’all, and can’t wait to see you next year!