The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Hair rinse or foot soak?

Who leaves a broken ikea lamp, fluorescent bulbs still attached next to the garbage bins, for the new owner? Same sort that leaves a cooler with a dozen budweisers as well. Wouldn't have been so bad if we'd known which day the trash gets picked up.

What does one do with beer, if one will not ingest it?

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Where and when

And I'm very grateful that my period started right after the last load. Prayers of thanks abounding. One of the ways this could have been much harder.

Not that I know where prayers go, just that they are important.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

We are here

Last load from the old place, everything here. Everything aches. Piles as far as the eye can see.

I can't stop smiling.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Not that bad

Feh. I've signed my name more times in a shift when I worked long term care and did paper charting. All done.

They gave us a pretty book.

On the way to do the signing

Agh! Ahhhhhhh! Whooooaaaaah!


Sunday, January 8, 2012

How to piss me off, one easy lesson in three parts.

To tell me that my father is smart and knowledgeable and Aunt Evelyn holds grudges and I am "independent," according to the would-be (as an entitlement) brother.

I know my father could fix cars and was smart with his hands, but I also know he couldn't deal with my schoolwork after I was in 3rd grade, treated people badly, and was willfully ignorant of anything new.

Of course I knew Aunt Evelyn had prejudices - she hated Italians for instance. But also that she and Uncle Ernie were the only people in the family who went to Elizabeth's wedding to Ed, after her divorce - a big thing for a very devout Catholic of her generation. I know she loved me, listened to me when no one else did, and I accepted her as a whole, seeing the flaws quite clearly. To assume I did not is condescension, nothing less.

The word "grudge" takes someone else's judgement of character and turns it into a petty spat. Yes, some people take petty spats and turn them into grudges, but to throw the word around is a dangerous activity.

And I value my sense of independence, beats the hell out of simpering dependence. Gosh, I don't just lean on everyone and don't expect them to take care of my every little desire, what a (harrumph!) In-de-PEN-dent little bitch!" On the other hand, I'm also a spoiled little princess, according to my father the last time we spoke. Huh?

Reality to suit, no waiting.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

I have been very wrong

There is no good way to say "you should have known" or "it really is your fault." Especially if it is the truth. I did that, in defensiveness - but not kindly.

Don't make it right.

Monday, January 2, 2012

It's good to be right, really

After the last email, when I called him on every assertion, every sexist, skewed assumption, I knew he would back off. Knew as he really got to know me, he wouldn't like it. From him calling me "independent" like it was a bad thing, to telling me my dear aunt tended to grudges (like I didn't know) and telling me that our father was neither ignorant nor stupid (he was both.)

This gives me such peace, to know, to understand, to be right dammit.