I put some stuff up on Ebay over the last two weeks and I have come to realize that I am more obsessive compulsive than I had previously realized.
I cannot walk upstairs without turning on the computer to check my auction. I can't walk in the house without walking directly upstairs to turn on the computer to check the auction.
Right now it's a very good thing I don't have a laptop.
And I can't just look at the listing to see if the price has gone up. (Currently I am patting myself on the back because I have an actual-- no wait! 7 actual bids on my item. I'm on fire). I have to check the number of hits I have gotten. (93). and then I have to go to my "selling" page and see how many watchers I have. (14).
My auction ends tomorrow night so you know I will be sitting there, at the last minute, watching to see if there is a bidding war. It was rather exciting the last time. The two people who were competing over my last item didn't enter their last minute bids until there were only 14 seconds left to bid. That was a nail biter for sure.
I so need to get a life.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Hope You Don't Mind If I Have a Private Moment...
This has been an interesting week. To say the least.
I mentioned, a couple of posts ago, that I have been potty training my son and that, at 4 1/2, he is a bit late in his training. I love my son, more than words can say, but I have not been blind to the fact that he hasn't been on the same track developmentally as most kids his age. I have brought it up, from time-to-time, with his pediatrician and was usually told that I was "over-comparing" him to other kids. I knew better than to accept that from the pediatrician, but I let it lie for awhile. I didn't want to deal with the elephant in the room that most parents don't want to deal with.
Autism.
This word carries so much weight these days. We hear about it a lot. We hear that the numbers are on the rise and we hear about celebrities like Jenny McCarthy that they too have kids with Autism.
God bless Jenny McCarthy. At first I denied that my son could have Autism because he seemed to function so much better than the stereotypical Autistic child. I remember watching "Rainman" and thinking the sort of idiot-savant that Dustin Hoffman played was what Autism was all about. That can't be my son I thought, my son hugs me, he tells me he loves me. He comes running to me when I come home from the store with a loud "Mom!" and a big hug. How could this child have Autism?
And then a funny thing happened. I started reading about it and I discovered a neurological disorder on the Autism spectrum called Asperger's Syndrome. And an even funnier thing happened. I realized that not only does my son have virtually all the criteria that would garner him a diagnosis as having Asperger's, I do as well.
I've always felt like a square-peg in a round-hole world, but I always found things to blame it on. I was adopted. I went to 11 different schools from kindergarten through 12 grade. Of course I was socially awkward. But the thing is, even in a safe environment, away from social situations that can leave me in a horrible state of anxiety, I'm still not what you might think of as normal. I look normal. I can pass for normal. I can hold a job and go to parent-teacher conferences relatively well. But if you and I were having a face to face conversation, I would have to force myself to look into your eyes. I do this because it's what I've come to believe is expected of me in social situations but I don't "get" why I should do it. My son is the same way.
When I go to a party with my husband I really get stressed out. I've never been able to read people very well. I tend to run on conversationally and have a one track mind that is staggering in it's focus. I cannot go-with-the-flow conversationally because my mind will stay on whatever track I started on and will not shift gears unless I make a conscious effort to do so. I tend to be blunt but think of myself as "honest." I don't mean to hurt other people's feelings but since I am not naturally tactful I do sometimes. I don't like to be touched (which drives my husband crazy) and can't stand loud noises of any kind. If I'm in a room full of people I will go into sensory overload and have to leave to spend time by myself. I usually stay up late every night just to be alone.
I could go on and on but I think I would bore you. The point of all this is that despite my personal diagnosis of Asperger's, I've managed to do okay. I have been with my husband for 13 years despite my social retardation. Most people would never, ever, dream that I suffer from a form of Autism. Thank goodness.
In a weird way I'm glad I have Asperger's. I would prefer that my son didn't have it, but since he does I think I am uniquely qualified to help him navigate through a world he won't understand. I can't give him enlightenment, but I can give him a few coping mechanisms. I would prefer that I didn't have this genetic mutation to pass on to my child (Asperger's generally runs in families and often the adult sufferer will be diagnosed at the same time as the child) but I can't help what has already happened.
The one thing that gives me hope is now I know why I am the way I am. I now know why I have a hard time relating to people and prefer the companionship I find among the blogging community. I don't need to read facial expressions here. All I have to do is read the words on a page and I can do that. I can also stand as an example to my son. I can say to him, I graduated college. I got married and had kids. I know how to love even if I don't know how to express it. I know what it is to be you, and you're going to be just fine.....
For more information on Asperger's Syndrome, THIS is an excellent place to start.
I mentioned, a couple of posts ago, that I have been potty training my son and that, at 4 1/2, he is a bit late in his training. I love my son, more than words can say, but I have not been blind to the fact that he hasn't been on the same track developmentally as most kids his age. I have brought it up, from time-to-time, with his pediatrician and was usually told that I was "over-comparing" him to other kids. I knew better than to accept that from the pediatrician, but I let it lie for awhile. I didn't want to deal with the elephant in the room that most parents don't want to deal with.
Autism.
This word carries so much weight these days. We hear about it a lot. We hear that the numbers are on the rise and we hear about celebrities like Jenny McCarthy that they too have kids with Autism.
God bless Jenny McCarthy. At first I denied that my son could have Autism because he seemed to function so much better than the stereotypical Autistic child. I remember watching "Rainman" and thinking the sort of idiot-savant that Dustin Hoffman played was what Autism was all about. That can't be my son I thought, my son hugs me, he tells me he loves me. He comes running to me when I come home from the store with a loud "Mom!" and a big hug. How could this child have Autism?
And then a funny thing happened. I started reading about it and I discovered a neurological disorder on the Autism spectrum called Asperger's Syndrome. And an even funnier thing happened. I realized that not only does my son have virtually all the criteria that would garner him a diagnosis as having Asperger's, I do as well.
I've always felt like a square-peg in a round-hole world, but I always found things to blame it on. I was adopted. I went to 11 different schools from kindergarten through 12 grade. Of course I was socially awkward. But the thing is, even in a safe environment, away from social situations that can leave me in a horrible state of anxiety, I'm still not what you might think of as normal. I look normal. I can pass for normal. I can hold a job and go to parent-teacher conferences relatively well. But if you and I were having a face to face conversation, I would have to force myself to look into your eyes. I do this because it's what I've come to believe is expected of me in social situations but I don't "get" why I should do it. My son is the same way.
When I go to a party with my husband I really get stressed out. I've never been able to read people very well. I tend to run on conversationally and have a one track mind that is staggering in it's focus. I cannot go-with-the-flow conversationally because my mind will stay on whatever track I started on and will not shift gears unless I make a conscious effort to do so. I tend to be blunt but think of myself as "honest." I don't mean to hurt other people's feelings but since I am not naturally tactful I do sometimes. I don't like to be touched (which drives my husband crazy) and can't stand loud noises of any kind. If I'm in a room full of people I will go into sensory overload and have to leave to spend time by myself. I usually stay up late every night just to be alone.
I could go on and on but I think I would bore you. The point of all this is that despite my personal diagnosis of Asperger's, I've managed to do okay. I have been with my husband for 13 years despite my social retardation. Most people would never, ever, dream that I suffer from a form of Autism. Thank goodness.
In a weird way I'm glad I have Asperger's. I would prefer that my son didn't have it, but since he does I think I am uniquely qualified to help him navigate through a world he won't understand. I can't give him enlightenment, but I can give him a few coping mechanisms. I would prefer that I didn't have this genetic mutation to pass on to my child (Asperger's generally runs in families and often the adult sufferer will be diagnosed at the same time as the child) but I can't help what has already happened.
The one thing that gives me hope is now I know why I am the way I am. I now know why I have a hard time relating to people and prefer the companionship I find among the blogging community. I don't need to read facial expressions here. All I have to do is read the words on a page and I can do that. I can also stand as an example to my son. I can say to him, I graduated college. I got married and had kids. I know how to love even if I don't know how to express it. I know what it is to be you, and you're going to be just fine.....
For more information on Asperger's Syndrome, THIS is an excellent place to start.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Six Unremarkable Things Meme
Avery tagged me with this meme, and it appears that for this meme I'm supposed to come up with 6 uninteresting facts about myself. There are rules to this meme, not all of which I am going to follow... but I'll list them here.
* Link the person who tagged you.
* Mention the rules in your blog.
* Tell about six unspectacular quirks
* Tag six bloggers by linking them. (I have fewer than six regulars on this particular blog and I'm sure most of them have already done this meme)
* Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs letting them know they've been tagged. (read comment on previous rule)
Frankly I could come up with so much more blandness.
But I will limit my list to the six that I am supposed to limit it to. You should be grateful.
1. I'm not a naturally tidy person. My house is usually pretty clean because between my husband and I we get the chores done-- but I hate doing it. I never rebelled as a kid and I think my messy room was the only form of rebellion I felt comfortable acting out on. I hope my kids are just like me.
2. I sneeze when I see bright light. I can walk out into the sunshine or just look into a light bulb--I'll sneeze every time. My kids both do this too.
3. I am profoundly without rhythm. I didn't know what an 8-count was until I was on drill team in high school. I never learned how to play any musical instruments so rhythm has been quite the mystery for me most of my life. If I'm a crowd of people who are clapping to the beat, I have to watch everyone else so I am not the person clapping between beats.
4. I am a dress-for-comfort person. I have learned over the course of my life that I will abandon style for comfort any day of the week. I think Crocs were sent by the hand of God (or Shiva, or whomever) just to sooth my feet. (Though I did buy the cute little pair above--in two colors-- so I wouldn't look like I had duck feet all the time) I try to mitigate this by making sure my hair and make-up are as nice as I can make them. But I only wear heels for really dressy occasions. I think the last was my wedding. I can, however, walk in heels. I always feel a little sorry for women who look like they're walking on their tip-toes while wearing heels. Or walking on glass. I feel their pain.
5. My toenails are currently painted purple.
6. I went to school in Japan and got a minor in the subject in college but don't speak the language at all anymore. While I was there I realized I would never want to live or work there so I never bothered to keep up my conversational Japanese. It hasn't been a problem either.
So that's it. I'm not tagging anyone specifically, but if you'd like to do the meme, consider yourself tagged.
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Fame Bubble
Whenever I try to think of posts for my blog, I often muse on different fantasy & sci-fi topics. I'll often scan the news trying to find some sort of real-life story as a tie-in on my blog. Those are some of my favorites.But I realized I have probably missed one of the most obvious fantasy tie-ins ever in my year-and-a-half of blogging.
The Fame Bubble.
That's right folks. If you haven't heard of The Fame Bubble, then you don't watch enough Kathy Griffin.
The Fame Bubble is a term that Kathy has given to the strange little fantasy world that celebrities live in. You know what I'm talking about. The world that somehow convinces celebrities that they can give their kids names like Apple or Banjo and somehow the fame they enjoy will insulate their children from all the insults any child of a lesser person would experience.
The Fame Bubble must be a happy place, don't you think?
Imagine for a minute if you got to live in The Fame Bubble............
You would never have to consort with the common rabble ever again. If you need new clothes, the store will shut down for you-- and probably give you most of your clothes for free! You want to to to Magic Mountain, they'll close the park for you so you never have to wait in line. (Just ask Mariah Carey) Never will you have to watch a movie that doesn't have a red carpet and an entourage-- at least as long as your Fame Bubble is big enough that is.
Having children in the Fame Bubble is a totally different experience than that of the rest of us plebes as well. Naturally every part of the pregnancy will be covered with appropriate reverence and if you're a first time mom, no problem; the doctors will be more than willing to schedule you a C-section so you don't have to go through any unnecessary pain, or messy labor. Of course, once your perfect child comes into the world, appropriately named Huckleberry or Credenza, he or she will be on the cover of every magazine on the planet-- scoring you no less than $6 million a picture.
Working in The Fame Bubble is something completely different too. I do hear from time to time that the hours are a bit long and that the hard working celebrities may have to lounge around in their opulently appointed trailers, while suffering through manicures and hair extensions, while waiting for their scenes to be shot. But I suppose the $20 million dollar paycheck does compensate one a little bit for that hard three months of work.
Normal rules of decency can be completely ignored in The Fame Bubble too. It is perfectly acceptable to flash one's privates in any venue and clothing may be see-through for most major events.
Getting into shape need not involve too much work either. Regular visits to the doctor for regular liposuction will keep those pesky love-handles at bay. And if the personal chefs, trainers and lap-bands don't do the job, air-brushing will be used liberally.
In The Fame Bubble, you are the center of the universe. People do hang on your every word. Whole legions will be devoted to the perfection that is you. You will have fan clubs and blogs that follow every significant event of your life. No one will fail to notice that new hair-do, I promise.
Maybe I'm being a little hard on those who live in The Fame Bubble though. I mean, the fame bubble does come with all the annoying paparazzi. I mean, who needs to deal with all those cameras while you're stumbling drunk down Sunset Blvd six days a week? Jeez, some people are so judgemental. And if one wants to have a tirade on a talk show and tell all the women in the world that they're evil for taking anti-depressants for postpartum depression, shouldn't one be able to do that without all the little people thinking they ought to have an opinion? I mean really, Scientology does have all the answers.
The Fame Bubble says so.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Do we really believe this guy?
You may have seen this video before. It's been on MTV for awhile and I noticed a lot of people are talking about it on the net. But I can't help it. I must know what you think.
If you haven't seen this, the video is of a man who claims to be straight, but does gay porn for a living. Don't worry, this video isn't graphic. It's from the MTV show "True Life."
I gotta say, I don't believe this guy can be straight. I don't care how much money he makes. There's no way a guy can have gay sex and not be attracted to men. Is there?
This guy (I think his name is Aaron) says he makes $5000 a shoot and does about 8 a month. That is a whole lot of money. But still... I wouldn't do it.
But is it a gay thing or is it a moral issue? I don't have anything against gay people-- that's not what I mean by moral issue. For me, having video of myself out there having sex would be the main problem-- I really don't need my kids ever seeing anything like that. But there is less of a stigma for women having gay sex isn't there? For the record, I have never been one to "experiment." I don't know when girl on girl action came into vogue, but I certainly never felt any desire to make out with a girl. I guess that's why I have a hard time believing this guy is straight.
I'm not attracted to women and frankly, no amount of money is going to change that. I'm not coming at it from a moral angle. Really it's just a matter of desire. I don't want to grope another woman and I don't want to be groped. No offense. But I prefer men.
So I'm baffled by a guy who claims to like women but will have sex with men for money. Isn't that a bit drastic? I know he wants to have a nice lifestyle and all, but my goodness. That's like selling your soul to the devil isn't it? Especially if he's being honest and he really truly isn't attracted to men. Suppose for a second that he is telling the truth. How does he turn off his normal instincts to complete the act? Drugs? Alcohol? Denial?
I really don't get it.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Missed the Emergency Room... Barely
Thanks for the kind replies on my last post. I don't mean to keep venting about my parents, but man, they make me crazy.
My mom hasn't emailed me back either. No big surprise there.
So we just got back from Disneyland and mostly it was a good trip. Better for me than my husband. The poor guy got food poisoning. We don't know what caused it, but neither me nor the kids got sick so it was obviously something only my husband ate.
I hope I never get food poisoning. Let me tell you, it's ugly.
My husband started feeling sick on Monday morning, which was our first full day at the park. We had taken the kids to the Electric Light Parade on Sunday night (which they looooved) and while I took my son back to the hotel room to put him to bed my husband and my daughter went to see the Fantasmic Light Show. They got back to the room around 11:30 so my husband was pretty tired after driving all day and then staying up so late. On Monday morning he wasn't feeling too well, but assumed he was just tired.
We got to the park as it opened on Monday and headed over to the Finding Nemo ride. If you haven't been to Disneyland lately, be prepared to wait in a long line for Nemo. It doesn't have a fast pass and every kid wants to go on it, so at best, you'll wait 45 minutes. Poor hubby wasn't too sure if he was up to it but stuck it out and we made it through. After the ride I told him to go to the room and get some sleep and I'd meet him back there in a couple of hours. My kids were really tired too, so we didn't hit too many rides before they wanted to go back to the room and rest.
I thought for sure hubby would be rested and well by the time we got back but unfortunately that wasn't the case. He was lying on the bed, pale as can be and in too much pain to sleep.
At this point I wasn't really sure what to do. I wasn't sure how sick he was so the only thing I could think to do was take the kids to the pool so he could have a chance to rest some more and hopefully sleep. We went through this cycle all day. I'd take the kids out for an hour or two, hoping hubby was finally getting some rest, only to come back and see he was in worse condition. I won't go into the gory details, but his body was definitely purging something at this point. By the time evening rolled around, I was just trying to keep the kids away so they wouldn't be alarmed.
This is my worst nightmare when it comes to being away from home. My son had an ear infection that had me taking him to the Emergency Room about two weeks before we left. I kept telling my husband how lucky we were that it happened before our trip so we didn't end up in the hospital while on vacation. And now I was faced with a sick husband without knowing what was wrong and should I take him to the hospital. Monday night was a bit nervous for me and hubby but we decided to wait and see how he felt Tuesday morning. I had already decided that if he didn't feel any better Tuesday that I would take him to the ER.
Let me tell you, my husband is one heck of a strong guy. After a miserable, pain filled day, he was up Tuesday morning ready to take the kids to Disneyland. I couldn't believe it. If it had been me, I would probably have been down for a week. But not my guy. He was so funny too. He kept telling me he wasn't 100%. He'd give me a run-down during the day saying he was about 70% or so. By Wednesday he assured me he was feeling at least 80% of normal. He even drove home.
Luckily my kids didn't even really know anything was wrong. They knew Daddy wasn't feeling well but we managed to keep them out of the room while he was really sick so they didn't have a clue as to how bad it was. So they got a trip to Disneyland and they get to remember it as a happy one. Not one spent in the Emergency Room. Thank God.
I am in awe of my husband.
My mom hasn't emailed me back either. No big surprise there.
So we just got back from Disneyland and mostly it was a good trip. Better for me than my husband. The poor guy got food poisoning. We don't know what caused it, but neither me nor the kids got sick so it was obviously something only my husband ate.
I hope I never get food poisoning. Let me tell you, it's ugly.
My husband started feeling sick on Monday morning, which was our first full day at the park. We had taken the kids to the Electric Light Parade on Sunday night (which they looooved) and while I took my son back to the hotel room to put him to bed my husband and my daughter went to see the Fantasmic Light Show. They got back to the room around 11:30 so my husband was pretty tired after driving all day and then staying up so late. On Monday morning he wasn't feeling too well, but assumed he was just tired.
We got to the park as it opened on Monday and headed over to the Finding Nemo ride. If you haven't been to Disneyland lately, be prepared to wait in a long line for Nemo. It doesn't have a fast pass and every kid wants to go on it, so at best, you'll wait 45 minutes. Poor hubby wasn't too sure if he was up to it but stuck it out and we made it through. After the ride I told him to go to the room and get some sleep and I'd meet him back there in a couple of hours. My kids were really tired too, so we didn't hit too many rides before they wanted to go back to the room and rest.
I thought for sure hubby would be rested and well by the time we got back but unfortunately that wasn't the case. He was lying on the bed, pale as can be and in too much pain to sleep.
At this point I wasn't really sure what to do. I wasn't sure how sick he was so the only thing I could think to do was take the kids to the pool so he could have a chance to rest some more and hopefully sleep. We went through this cycle all day. I'd take the kids out for an hour or two, hoping hubby was finally getting some rest, only to come back and see he was in worse condition. I won't go into the gory details, but his body was definitely purging something at this point. By the time evening rolled around, I was just trying to keep the kids away so they wouldn't be alarmed.
This is my worst nightmare when it comes to being away from home. My son had an ear infection that had me taking him to the Emergency Room about two weeks before we left. I kept telling my husband how lucky we were that it happened before our trip so we didn't end up in the hospital while on vacation. And now I was faced with a sick husband without knowing what was wrong and should I take him to the hospital. Monday night was a bit nervous for me and hubby but we decided to wait and see how he felt Tuesday morning. I had already decided that if he didn't feel any better Tuesday that I would take him to the ER.
Let me tell you, my husband is one heck of a strong guy. After a miserable, pain filled day, he was up Tuesday morning ready to take the kids to Disneyland. I couldn't believe it. If it had been me, I would probably have been down for a week. But not my guy. He was so funny too. He kept telling me he wasn't 100%. He'd give me a run-down during the day saying he was about 70% or so. By Wednesday he assured me he was feeling at least 80% of normal. He even drove home.
Luckily my kids didn't even really know anything was wrong. They knew Daddy wasn't feeling well but we managed to keep them out of the room while he was really sick so they didn't have a clue as to how bad it was. So they got a trip to Disneyland and they get to remember it as a happy one. Not one spent in the Emergency Room. Thank God.
I am in awe of my husband.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Wow, no matter how far away they are, they can still screw things up for me
So I get an email from my mom this morning.
Ugh.
I get about one email a month from my mom. Generally they don't say much. I've gotten more info about what's going on with her and my dad in Thailand from the one phone call I got from my brother. But this time she decided to ask me why I haven't sent pictures to her.
The last email she sent she asked me to send pictures, specifically of my house. No mention of the kids. Naturally, I was suspicious. I figure my dad wants to see pictures of the house so he can pick out their bedroom. So without saying anything I just didn't send any pictures over. I did that because the whole non-acknowledgement thing is my mom's strategy. Whenever I ask her something she doesn't want to answer, she just ignores the question. I thought, okay, I'll do the same thing and put her on the spot. If she wants to know what's up, she's going to have to ask. And she never does that.
But she finally did. A day before we leave for Disneyland. Great timing mom.
So I had to tell her what's what. I had to tell her the stuff I found out about after they left. I had to tell her that I was offended they paid for a storage unit to store her clothes but left behind the stuff my brothers and I made for her as kids. I had to tell her that I'm not letting them stay here if they come back to the states.
This sucks.
I hate being in the position of having to lay all this out. I hate having to send off that email and potentially leave without knowing what kind of a reaction she's going to have to it. I hate that I will probably be mulling over this during my trip to Disneyland. I want to enjoy myself and I don't need any more of their B.S.
Why do my parents have to be such shits?
Ugh.
I get about one email a month from my mom. Generally they don't say much. I've gotten more info about what's going on with her and my dad in Thailand from the one phone call I got from my brother. But this time she decided to ask me why I haven't sent pictures to her.
The last email she sent she asked me to send pictures, specifically of my house. No mention of the kids. Naturally, I was suspicious. I figure my dad wants to see pictures of the house so he can pick out their bedroom. So without saying anything I just didn't send any pictures over. I did that because the whole non-acknowledgement thing is my mom's strategy. Whenever I ask her something she doesn't want to answer, she just ignores the question. I thought, okay, I'll do the same thing and put her on the spot. If she wants to know what's up, she's going to have to ask. And she never does that.
But she finally did. A day before we leave for Disneyland. Great timing mom.
So I had to tell her what's what. I had to tell her the stuff I found out about after they left. I had to tell her that I was offended they paid for a storage unit to store her clothes but left behind the stuff my brothers and I made for her as kids. I had to tell her that I'm not letting them stay here if they come back to the states.
This sucks.
I hate being in the position of having to lay all this out. I hate having to send off that email and potentially leave without knowing what kind of a reaction she's going to have to it. I hate that I will probably be mulling over this during my trip to Disneyland. I want to enjoy myself and I don't need any more of their B.S.
Why do my parents have to be such shits?
Thursday, May 01, 2008
I Think it Would be Easier to Change the Name of the Island
I swiped this link from Furiousball
Lesbos islanders dispute gay name
Campaigners on the Greek island of Lesbos are to go to court in an attempt to stop a gay rights organisation from using the term "lesbian".
The islanders say that if they are successful they may then start to fight the word lesbian internationally. The issue boils down to who has the right to call themselves Lesbians.
Is it gay women, or the 100,000 people living on Greece's third biggest island - plus another 250,000 expatriates who originate from Lesbos?
The man spearheading the case, publisher Dimitris Lambrou, claims that international dominance of the word in its sexual context violates the human rights of the islanders, and disgraces them around the world. He says it causes daily problems to the social life of Lesbos's inhabitants.
Injunction sought
In court papers, the plaintiffs allege that the Greek government is so embarrassed by the term Lesbian that it has been forced to rename the island after its capital, Mytilini. An early court date has now been set for judges to decide whether to grant an injunction against the Homosexual and Lesbian Community of Greece and to order it to change its name.
A spokeswoman for the group has described the case as a groundless violation of freedom of expression, and has pledged to fight it. The term lesbian originated from the poet Sappho, who was a native of Lesbos. Sappho expressed her love of other women in poetry written during the 7th Century BC. But according to Mr Lambrou, new historical research has discovered that Sappho had a family, and committed suicide for the love of a man.
Jeez. Some people are so sensitive.
Lesbos islanders dispute gay name
Campaigners on the Greek island of Lesbos are to go to court in an attempt to stop a gay rights organisation from using the term "lesbian".
The islanders say that if they are successful they may then start to fight the word lesbian internationally. The issue boils down to who has the right to call themselves Lesbians.
Is it gay women, or the 100,000 people living on Greece's third biggest island - plus another 250,000 expatriates who originate from Lesbos?
The man spearheading the case, publisher Dimitris Lambrou, claims that international dominance of the word in its sexual context violates the human rights of the islanders, and disgraces them around the world. He says it causes daily problems to the social life of Lesbos's inhabitants.
Injunction sought
In court papers, the plaintiffs allege that the Greek government is so embarrassed by the term Lesbian that it has been forced to rename the island after its capital, Mytilini. An early court date has now been set for judges to decide whether to grant an injunction against the Homosexual and Lesbian Community of Greece and to order it to change its name.
A spokeswoman for the group has described the case as a groundless violation of freedom of expression, and has pledged to fight it. The term lesbian originated from the poet Sappho, who was a native of Lesbos. Sappho expressed her love of other women in poetry written during the 7th Century BC. But according to Mr Lambrou, new historical research has discovered that Sappho had a family, and committed suicide for the love of a man.
Jeez. Some people are so sensitive.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Disneyland
Oh how I love Disneyland.
We're taking the kids next week and I am stupid excited. We haven't been in four years since we took our daughter there for her birthday and I think I'm more jazzed than the kids.
My son has never been so he doesn't have a point of reference. He's kind of excited but I don't think knows why. My daughter is kind of excited too, but she's torn between being happier over going to Disneyland or missing school. Understandable.
Disneyland is one of those memories for me that has never been sullied by anything unpleasant. Even arguing over who got the last E ticket (for those of you who remember those) can take the shine off the Magic Kingdom. I remember going on Space Mountain as a kid and being dazzled by the stars glowing in the darkness. That was my favorite ride for a long time. Now that I'm older I appreciate the Pirates of the Caribbean more. Who needs all the twists and turns of a roller coasted when you can watch the pirates chase the pirate wenches -- though now they've made it PC by having the wenches carrying platters of food so delicate minds won't think salacious thoughts.
Oh and the light parade. I used to love staying up late and watching the light parade. We're driving in Sunday and we're going to take the kids to see the parade once we get there. My daughter was a little scared of it the last time we went. I remember her being bothered by the snails that would drive around in circles. Hopefully she's forgotten that by now.
Sadly, my daughter isn't into the Princesses anymore. They're too babyish for her now. Fortunately she is replacing the Princess fixation with a healthy appreciation for Jack Sparrow and frankly, I can find no fault with that.
So here's looking forward to walking our legs to the bone, standing in lines and getting sunburned in the happiest place on Earth. I can't wait.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Oh this is sunny, isn't it?
I found some new blogger templates and I'm messing around, as you can see. I like this one. It's all sunny and perky.
Anyway. Don't be too surprised if the blog looks different each time you come here. I may switch to Wordpress if I can't find a template in Blogger I like. So I'll be experimenting a bit.
Change is good though. Right?
Anyway. Don't be too surprised if the blog looks different each time you come here. I may switch to Wordpress if I can't find a template in Blogger I like. So I'll be experimenting a bit.
Change is good though. Right?
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wow, is it time for my weekly post already?
My, how time flies.
I've had a pretty good week, though sometimes it's hard. I really hate using my blog as sort of a pity party, but I just can't help myself. So today I decided to start writing in a journal to kind of vent all the nonsense that's been building up in my head.
I wrote 28 pages today.
Aren't you glad I decided to inflict that on a journal rather than you?
I must say though, it's one of the best ideas I've had in a while. I used to do this when I was a teenager. High school is such an angst-ridden time anyway and whenever I had additional stress, the only way I knew how to express it was to write in a journal. I don't know why I haven't done this since then, but I think it's high time I rediscovered it.
But I feel good. I feel like I had a long talk with an understanding, non-judgemental and very patient girl friend, who just happens to be one hell of a good listener.
I'd forgotten how cathartic writing can be. I think anyone reading this understands what I mean. We're all bloggers right?
There is something fairly egotistical about blogging-- not that there's anything wrong with that. At least for me it is. I have humble expectations, but at the same time I like to think that what goes on in my head is relatable to someone. I'm not the funniest blogger by a long shot. But like a lot of people I lay my humanity out there, with all its warts and wrinkles, hoping to connect with someone who "gets" where I'm coming from.
I'm working on being less damaged and needy. I'd like to be able to have a conversation without laying my life story at someones feet hoping for commiseration. I don't feel like being that pathetic anymore.
But still, 28 pages in one day. I have a lot of junk rattling around in my head don't I?
But hey, tomorrow's another day. Maybe I'll only write 14.
Next step. Channeling all that writing energy into writing a friggin' book!
I've had a pretty good week, though sometimes it's hard. I really hate using my blog as sort of a pity party, but I just can't help myself. So today I decided to start writing in a journal to kind of vent all the nonsense that's been building up in my head.
I wrote 28 pages today.
Aren't you glad I decided to inflict that on a journal rather than you?
I must say though, it's one of the best ideas I've had in a while. I used to do this when I was a teenager. High school is such an angst-ridden time anyway and whenever I had additional stress, the only way I knew how to express it was to write in a journal. I don't know why I haven't done this since then, but I think it's high time I rediscovered it.
But I feel good. I feel like I had a long talk with an understanding, non-judgemental and very patient girl friend, who just happens to be one hell of a good listener.
I'd forgotten how cathartic writing can be. I think anyone reading this understands what I mean. We're all bloggers right?
There is something fairly egotistical about blogging-- not that there's anything wrong with that. At least for me it is. I have humble expectations, but at the same time I like to think that what goes on in my head is relatable to someone. I'm not the funniest blogger by a long shot. But like a lot of people I lay my humanity out there, with all its warts and wrinkles, hoping to connect with someone who "gets" where I'm coming from.
I'm working on being less damaged and needy. I'd like to be able to have a conversation without laying my life story at someones feet hoping for commiseration. I don't feel like being that pathetic anymore.
But still, 28 pages in one day. I have a lot of junk rattling around in my head don't I?
But hey, tomorrow's another day. Maybe I'll only write 14.
Next step. Channeling all that writing energy into writing a friggin' book!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Last Minute Mom Stuff
I feel like this blog is my neglected child. I have two other blogs that focus on sci-fi and they take so much of my blogging time that I never seem to have the chance to use this personal blog. I suppose that's just as well, I have had a tendency to be too maudlin over the last few months and no one really wants to see that. Heck, when I read personal blogs, I prefer the funny stuff. I just wish I had better comic timing.
I'm yawning all over the place today. My daughter, who turns eight on Sunday, decides to remind me last night at 9:30pm that she needs cupcakes to take to school today. Doh! I should have remembered that myself but it slipped my mind. Well, almost. I thought of it last night before she reminded me but I thought, I can do it Monday, that's closer to her birthday anyway. But second graders don't think that way. The class celebration must be prior to, or on, the actual birthday. So, not wanting to be the mom who shafted her kid on her birthday I schlepped myself up to the store, got supplies, and was up to about midnight making cupcakes. Oh well, it's all for a good cause. She may not remember as she gets older that I made her cupcakes for school, but she sure as hell would remember if I didn't!
She's a good kid though. I would've probably been kicking myself if I hadn't done it.
Not to get maudlin again (sorry!) but my parents have been known to forget my birthday. Not too much when I was little, but that's kind of hard when you have an 8-year-old reminding you every other second that their birthday is 2 days and 6--- no 5 hours and 45 minutes away. But there was this time when I was 10....
I'm not entirely sure they forgot my birthday but I think they did. I didn't get any birthday presents that year. My mom and dad gave me a card saying that my dad was going to build me a swing-set for my birthday. Bwahahahahahahah! I knew right then and there I'd never see the swing-set. My dad is not exactly a master builder. He put up a fence once and forgot to put in a gate. It was funny. We had this massive yard and my dad built a fence around the downstairs sliding door so we'd have a place to let the dogs out. But you could only get in and out of the yard through the slider since he forgot the gate. But he was so proud of that fence. It wasn't straight, but he built it.
I never asked my parents about the swing-set. I knew my dad wouldn't build it, but I also knew that if I pestered him enough to actually try, I'd end up with something sure to break my neck, so I let the whole thing lie. But I still think they forgot the birthday and tried to come up with a last minute promise so I wouldn't think they forgot. Wouldn't be the last time.
I wonder if my brothers had this happen to them too? I've never asked them and I probably won't. Why bother bringing up something that will just end up in a bitter conversation? (I know.. I know... why do I do this?) But in a way I'd like to know I wasn't alone in being a little forgotten.
Okay, I gotta shake this off. I don't want to be a downer. It's just I think of this stuff when my kids birthday's roll around. I know women have looooong memories but I suspect we all do when we're kids. And I sure as heck don't want my children to remember that I forgot to think they're important on their birthdays. I would deserve to be smacked for that.
I'm yawning all over the place today. My daughter, who turns eight on Sunday, decides to remind me last night at 9:30pm that she needs cupcakes to take to school today. Doh! I should have remembered that myself but it slipped my mind. Well, almost. I thought of it last night before she reminded me but I thought, I can do it Monday, that's closer to her birthday anyway. But second graders don't think that way. The class celebration must be prior to, or on, the actual birthday. So, not wanting to be the mom who shafted her kid on her birthday I schlepped myself up to the store, got supplies, and was up to about midnight making cupcakes. Oh well, it's all for a good cause. She may not remember as she gets older that I made her cupcakes for school, but she sure as hell would remember if I didn't!
She's a good kid though. I would've probably been kicking myself if I hadn't done it.
Not to get maudlin again (sorry!) but my parents have been known to forget my birthday. Not too much when I was little, but that's kind of hard when you have an 8-year-old reminding you every other second that their birthday is 2 days and 6--- no 5 hours and 45 minutes away. But there was this time when I was 10....
I'm not entirely sure they forgot my birthday but I think they did. I didn't get any birthday presents that year. My mom and dad gave me a card saying that my dad was going to build me a swing-set for my birthday. Bwahahahahahahah! I knew right then and there I'd never see the swing-set. My dad is not exactly a master builder. He put up a fence once and forgot to put in a gate. It was funny. We had this massive yard and my dad built a fence around the downstairs sliding door so we'd have a place to let the dogs out. But you could only get in and out of the yard through the slider since he forgot the gate. But he was so proud of that fence. It wasn't straight, but he built it.
I never asked my parents about the swing-set. I knew my dad wouldn't build it, but I also knew that if I pestered him enough to actually try, I'd end up with something sure to break my neck, so I let the whole thing lie. But I still think they forgot the birthday and tried to come up with a last minute promise so I wouldn't think they forgot. Wouldn't be the last time.
I wonder if my brothers had this happen to them too? I've never asked them and I probably won't. Why bother bringing up something that will just end up in a bitter conversation? (I know.. I know... why do I do this?) But in a way I'd like to know I wasn't alone in being a little forgotten.
Okay, I gotta shake this off. I don't want to be a downer. It's just I think of this stuff when my kids birthday's roll around. I know women have looooong memories but I suspect we all do when we're kids. And I sure as heck don't want my children to remember that I forgot to think they're important on their birthdays. I would deserve to be smacked for that.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Damn! Those Catholics are Good at the Guilt
I wonder if I should title this "us" Catholics, after all, I was raised in the church, confessions at 7 years old and everything.
Is it a sin to confess to something you didn't do just so you wouldn't waste the priest's time?
I thought I got away from the church though. I lapsed myself out of going to church, saying confession, lighting candles, rosaries and crossing myself. And I don't miss any of it.
But my husband has been feeling the guilt.
We haven't baptized our kids. I don't mind so much because I really don't believe that splashing some water on my kid's heads is going to make a damn bit of difference on where my kids will go when they die. (hopefully many many many years after me) But it's wearing on my husband so out of respect for his feelings (fear) we'll be baptizing them.
The church is a pain about the whole thing though. We had planned on getting our daughter baptized right after birth but the local church wanted us, and anyone who would be the godparents, to jump through some serious hoops. I remember classes were involved. Needless to say it didn't get done because no one we knew (relatives included) could do all the stuff the church demanded.
We're in a new area now and we'll be looking into the Catholic church out here to see what their demands are. What a pain.
I'm pretty comfortable with stepping outside the church and baptizing my kids in a Christian church of pretty much any denomination just to get it done with, but I bet my husband is going to insist on doing it the Catholic way. In most cases this wouldn't be a problem since I usually do everything. But I've been dragging my feet on this one and my husband so hates to do anything himself, so the process has been seriously stalled.
Why am I doing this? I'm not precisely sure. I don't have any problem with baptizing my kids, I just don't really buy into the biblical version of how I should live my life. I already do so many things the bible doesn't approve of, what's one more? I don't believe gay people are bad or evil, so I'm already cherry picking my belief system and the bible doesn't like a lot of the cherries I pick.
Does this mean I don't believe in God? Not necessarily. I just don't believe in the biblical version of God any more than I believe in Zeus. I can't disprove God exists so I guess I'll leave the option on the table that he could exist and leave it at that. Mostly I prefer to live my life according to the Golden Rule. You remember that don't you? "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Good words and ones to live by IMHO. I try to be ethical. I return wallets if I find them-- unopened (have done this), try not to lie (this should be easy but sometimes the "does this make me look fat" question has no tactful answer) and generally try not to curse or cut people off in traffic-- but no one is perfect.
Anyway. No Catholic guilt for me. I leave that to my husband.
Is it a sin to confess to something you didn't do just so you wouldn't waste the priest's time?
I thought I got away from the church though. I lapsed myself out of going to church, saying confession, lighting candles, rosaries and crossing myself. And I don't miss any of it.
But my husband has been feeling the guilt.
We haven't baptized our kids. I don't mind so much because I really don't believe that splashing some water on my kid's heads is going to make a damn bit of difference on where my kids will go when they die. (hopefully many many many years after me) But it's wearing on my husband so out of respect for his feelings (fear) we'll be baptizing them.
The church is a pain about the whole thing though. We had planned on getting our daughter baptized right after birth but the local church wanted us, and anyone who would be the godparents, to jump through some serious hoops. I remember classes were involved. Needless to say it didn't get done because no one we knew (relatives included) could do all the stuff the church demanded.
We're in a new area now and we'll be looking into the Catholic church out here to see what their demands are. What a pain.
I'm pretty comfortable with stepping outside the church and baptizing my kids in a Christian church of pretty much any denomination just to get it done with, but I bet my husband is going to insist on doing it the Catholic way. In most cases this wouldn't be a problem since I usually do everything. But I've been dragging my feet on this one and my husband so hates to do anything himself, so the process has been seriously stalled.
Why am I doing this? I'm not precisely sure. I don't have any problem with baptizing my kids, I just don't really buy into the biblical version of how I should live my life. I already do so many things the bible doesn't approve of, what's one more? I don't believe gay people are bad or evil, so I'm already cherry picking my belief system and the bible doesn't like a lot of the cherries I pick.
Does this mean I don't believe in God? Not necessarily. I just don't believe in the biblical version of God any more than I believe in Zeus. I can't disprove God exists so I guess I'll leave the option on the table that he could exist and leave it at that. Mostly I prefer to live my life according to the Golden Rule. You remember that don't you? "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Good words and ones to live by IMHO. I try to be ethical. I return wallets if I find them-- unopened (have done this), try not to lie (this should be easy but sometimes the "does this make me look fat" question has no tactful answer) and generally try not to curse or cut people off in traffic-- but no one is perfect.
Anyway. No Catholic guilt for me. I leave that to my husband.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Sad Day
One of my favorite people in the blog world has lost his father. If you get a chance, do me a favor and go by Furiousblog and say a kind word or two. He is one of the funniest, smartest and nicest people I have had a chance to "meet" online. I think once you see his blog and read his posts you'll agree.
My thoughts and prayers are with you Van.
My thoughts and prayers are with you Van.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Science and Fiction
I'm sorry for more stolen content from my sci-fi blog. But I though the one or two people who come to this blog might get a kick out of this post....
Dear Blog
When I started you about a year and half ago, I gave you a theme. I gave you a title and called you Fantasy and Sci-fi Lovin' and I've tried to stay true to you-- to the best of my ability.
But I had something of an epiphany today. At the gym.
Science fiction occurs in real life. Yep, it surely does. I know the "fiction" in the title would make it seem impossible, but I'm telling you, I see science and fiction together every single day I go to the gym.
Exhibit #1
Don't get me wrong. I totally admire the dedication it takes to get this physique. And maybe I'm a tad cynical, but I just don't see this body happening on a woman without some serious scientific intervention. Now, I don't know who this woman is, and I don't want to accuse her of using steroids if she hasn't in fact used them. But something tells me her voice is a tad husky.
Exhi
bit #2
This is another sort of science fiction I also see everyday at the gym. This woman is also apparently a famous female body builder, though I chose to focus on other....er....assets. I think it's safe to say that without the intervention of current medical advances, this woman's rather impressive rack wouldn't otherwise be possible-- not to mention gravity defying.
Exhibit #3
Oh jeez, I apologise for this. I really do. Some works of science fiction should remain a mystery. I promise, dear blog, to go back to my regular subjects tomorrow and leave the real world out of it. *shudder*
Dear Blog
When I started you about a year and half ago, I gave you a theme. I gave you a title and called you Fantasy and Sci-fi Lovin' and I've tried to stay true to you-- to the best of my ability.
But I had something of an epiphany today. At the gym.
Science fiction occurs in real life. Yep, it surely does. I know the "fiction" in the title would make it seem impossible, but I'm telling you, I see science and fiction together every single day I go to the gym.
Exhibit #1
Don't get me wrong. I totally admire the dedication it takes to get this physique. And maybe I'm a tad cynical, but I just don't see this body happening on a woman without some serious scientific intervention. Now, I don't know who this woman is, and I don't want to accuse her of using steroids if she hasn't in fact used them. But something tells me her voice is a tad husky.
Exhi
bit #2This is another sort of science fiction I also see everyday at the gym. This woman is also apparently a famous female body builder, though I chose to focus on other....er....assets. I think it's safe to say that without the intervention of current medical advances, this woman's rather impressive rack wouldn't otherwise be possible-- not to mention gravity defying.
Exhibit #3
Oh jeez, I apologise for this. I really do. Some works of science fiction should remain a mystery. I promise, dear blog, to go back to my regular subjects tomorrow and leave the real world out of it. *shudder*
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Brave New Frontier?
Another post pilfered from my sci-fi blog....I have to admit, I'm kind of flummoxed by this story I read today. A transgendered man is pregnant with a baby girl and due to give birth this July.
Wow.
This gets my attention for a lot of reasons. I'm not particularly judgemental about straight-gay issues. I pretty much figure I have no business worrying about someone else's sex life. I don't even particularly care that a woman might decide to become a man and then have a baby. Whatever floats your boat.
What does get my attention is the medical intervention required to make this possible and the question of whether we may be messing around with Mother Nature a bit too much. According to the article I read in the Times Online, Thomas Beatie (formerly known as Tracy Lagondino) underwent gender reassignment surgery that involved chest reconstruction and testosterone therapy, but chose to keep his(?) reproductive rights (in other words, all the internal female organs).
The mind boggles.
The article mentions that Beatie stopped taking testosterone therapy and was able to conceive through artificial insemination without the need for additional hormone therapy. There is some concern that the baby could be affected by the testosterone that has been injected into his system over the last ten years since his ovaries and eggs have been exposed to the abnormally high levels the whole time. At this point I admit, I have a hard time thinking of Beatie as a "he" since I'm writing about eggs and ovaries, but legally, he is a man.
As I sit here writing this I do wonder if I have the right to judge the decision Beatie has made. I'm a little uncomfortable that this story makes me squirm a little bit. I like to think I'm open minded and I do think it's very brave of Beatie to come forward and talk about his story. His is married and his wife is unable to have children, which prompted his extraordinary choice to conceive.
At the same time I wonder at the things we, as humans, decide to do sometimes. I know a woman who used a method called MicroSorting to ensure that her last child would be a girl. I'm amazed, and yet appalled that we have gotten to the point that we are now choosing the gender of our children. I know-- I shouldn't make that kind of a judgement. But jeez, how much of a control freak do you have to be to go through that much trouble to make sure your kid is the proper gender? All I'm saying is that I can't say that only choosing to keep the male child has worked all that well for the Chinese, so maybe we should leave some things up to nature (or God if you prefer) to decide.
At any rate, science is allowing human beings to take remarkable liberties with our reproductive choices and I'm not sure what I think about it. One the one hand, I have friends who have beautiful children they wouldn't have been able to have without In Vitro fertilization and I can rationalize that as a good use of science. But can I argue that they are more deserving of a child than Beatie? Mostly, I'd say no. But there may be issues with the health of the baby Beatie is expecting due to his previous hormone therapy and I must admit, that makes me a little less open minded about his decision to conceive.
That said, the baby is on its way and I hope for a healthy happy child.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Oh the Humanity
I don't know about you, but I'm a believer in always learning as you get older. Not only should we strive to learn new things, but I think it's important to learn from our mistakes. That seems like common sense, right? Most people think that way don't they? Well, maybe Elliot Spitzer hasn't learned that lesson yet, but we should try at least, right?
My parents don't seem to think so.
Sometimes I wonder how they managed to keep a roof over our heads. I mean, I really really wonder.
My brother called me a few days ago. He made the token effort to say I ought to call my mom. I made the token effort to agree, for a second or so, but then I started thinking about the manner in which they left and my voice started getting higher and higher and my brother finally told me why he really called.
Even brothers need to vent.
First, you should know, my brother is the worlds most easygoing guy. He invented the word mellow. I mean, you'd have to be incredibly calm to lend someone $100k, not get it back, and then let them live with you. Me? I'd be in jail by now.
So once my brother calmed my tantrum down he started to tell me what it's like living with them on that side of the world.
Basically, nothing's changed.
My parents arranged to have their social security and my dad's disability checks sent over there and that's what everyone is living on. Fortunately the American dollar goes a long way in Thailand so they have more than enough. Of course the standard of living isn't like the U.S., but it's not bad. But my mom, who I remember as never being satisfied by anyplace we ever stayed at, is already wanting to move to a house on the beach. That's my mom. Even broke she wants the best of everything.
I guess the IRS also caught up with them. My dad hasn't paid taxes in years so the IRS has attached their money, but they're not really taking that much (especially considering how much they likely owe). There is a loophole though. The IRS can't take any money if you're making less that $20k -something a year-- I can't remember the exact number. So my parent's accountant is supposed to send a statement to the IRS showing my dad hasn't worked for the last few years. Of course my dad uses that as added justification as to why he can't work.
But get this, my parents are still spending all their money. My brother is going nuts. He's trying to keep them on a budget but they want to have everything and they're being insanely lazy. My mom was supposed to get her visa renewed but she didn't in time so now they're going to have to pay almost double-- which is just stupid since they had no reason not to get it done. They are the laziest people you can imagine. But the worst part is that they're withholding money from my brother. I am so disgusted by this. My dad is acting like he has the right to dole out the money on his whim even though he owes my brother more money than he could ever pay back. My sister-in-law and my mom went to the store to buy food and my mom was being super cheap about everything (she's only cheap when she's not spending on herself). So Yui (my sister-in-law) tells my brother and he asks my dad what's going on. Turns out my mom wants to go to Bangkok and spend the night in a hotel. So my dad tells her fine, don't spend money on food so they can splurge on a night out for themselves as the expense of my brother's family. Nice. These are the lovely people who raised me.
I'm sorry I keep belaboring this, but it's the story that never ends. Just when you think it can't get worse, it does.
There is a little bit of black comedy in this though. My mom and dad bought some sculptures about 15 years ago that I swear they thought were going to be their retirement. They had this 300lb marble angel that they told me they paid $10k for, but has a $30k appraisal. They also had a bronze sculpture that had an $18k appraisal. I kept harping on them for the last year to sell this stuff. They're broke and need the money, right? And I couldn't figure out why they just sat on this stuff. So when they left I told them I'd sell it and send the money to them. After talking to my brother I decided I would send the money to him though-- and I told him that on the phone. So the next day I got in touch with Bonhams and Butterfields in San Francisco. They're a very old, very prestigious auction house. I talked to a wonderful man with a very sophisticated British accent (my mother would have felt very chichi doing this) and he told me their stuff was basically worthless.
I'm sorry, but this is funny. My dad is one of those guys who thinks he can never be taken by anyone. Used car salesman, remember? If anyone pays $1000 too much on a car he'll give you hell and tell you that you "got your head ripped off." And laugh at you. Seriously. But the thing is, my dad is the biggest sucker for a good sales pitch. He's the guy who buy crap stock because some guy he met on the airplane said it was good. He buys stuff from people making calls from a boiler room.
The thing is, I always thought the appraisals on their stuff were suspect. They were written up by the same company that sold the items-- which has subsequently gone out of business. They misspelled words on the appraisal-- that should be a clue shouldn't it?
So my parents thought they had a 19th Century piece of art that turned out to have been made in Mexico about 30 years ago. They thought it would be worth more than $30k and I'll be lucky to get one thousand out of it. Yeah, that sounds about right. The other piece, the one that's supposed to be worth $18k is worth about $500.
I felt bad at first because I thought I wasn't going to be able to send my brother anything. But all may not be lost. My parents left 4 pieces of art by Peter Max (on the living room floor for anyone to take no less) that are signed and authenticated. Those might actually be worth something and my parents don't even know I have them. If I can get something for those that will go directly to my brother so he can recoup something out of this mess.
So my husband has more stories to tell at work and I have more material for my future therapy sessions.
Sorry for unloading again. But jeez, my parents are crazy. I wonder if they have alzheimer's.....
My parents don't seem to think so.
Sometimes I wonder how they managed to keep a roof over our heads. I mean, I really really wonder.
My brother called me a few days ago. He made the token effort to say I ought to call my mom. I made the token effort to agree, for a second or so, but then I started thinking about the manner in which they left and my voice started getting higher and higher and my brother finally told me why he really called.
Even brothers need to vent.
First, you should know, my brother is the worlds most easygoing guy. He invented the word mellow. I mean, you'd have to be incredibly calm to lend someone $100k, not get it back, and then let them live with you. Me? I'd be in jail by now.
So once my brother calmed my tantrum down he started to tell me what it's like living with them on that side of the world.
Basically, nothing's changed.
My parents arranged to have their social security and my dad's disability checks sent over there and that's what everyone is living on. Fortunately the American dollar goes a long way in Thailand so they have more than enough. Of course the standard of living isn't like the U.S., but it's not bad. But my mom, who I remember as never being satisfied by anyplace we ever stayed at, is already wanting to move to a house on the beach. That's my mom. Even broke she wants the best of everything.
I guess the IRS also caught up with them. My dad hasn't paid taxes in years so the IRS has attached their money, but they're not really taking that much (especially considering how much they likely owe). There is a loophole though. The IRS can't take any money if you're making less that $20k -something a year-- I can't remember the exact number. So my parent's accountant is supposed to send a statement to the IRS showing my dad hasn't worked for the last few years. Of course my dad uses that as added justification as to why he can't work.
But get this, my parents are still spending all their money. My brother is going nuts. He's trying to keep them on a budget but they want to have everything and they're being insanely lazy. My mom was supposed to get her visa renewed but she didn't in time so now they're going to have to pay almost double-- which is just stupid since they had no reason not to get it done. They are the laziest people you can imagine. But the worst part is that they're withholding money from my brother. I am so disgusted by this. My dad is acting like he has the right to dole out the money on his whim even though he owes my brother more money than he could ever pay back. My sister-in-law and my mom went to the store to buy food and my mom was being super cheap about everything (she's only cheap when she's not spending on herself). So Yui (my sister-in-law) tells my brother and he asks my dad what's going on. Turns out my mom wants to go to Bangkok and spend the night in a hotel. So my dad tells her fine, don't spend money on food so they can splurge on a night out for themselves as the expense of my brother's family. Nice. These are the lovely people who raised me.
I'm sorry I keep belaboring this, but it's the story that never ends. Just when you think it can't get worse, it does.
There is a little bit of black comedy in this though. My mom and dad bought some sculptures about 15 years ago that I swear they thought were going to be their retirement. They had this 300lb marble angel that they told me they paid $10k for, but has a $30k appraisal. They also had a bronze sculpture that had an $18k appraisal. I kept harping on them for the last year to sell this stuff. They're broke and need the money, right? And I couldn't figure out why they just sat on this stuff. So when they left I told them I'd sell it and send the money to them. After talking to my brother I decided I would send the money to him though-- and I told him that on the phone. So the next day I got in touch with Bonhams and Butterfields in San Francisco. They're a very old, very prestigious auction house. I talked to a wonderful man with a very sophisticated British accent (my mother would have felt very chichi doing this) and he told me their stuff was basically worthless.
I'm sorry, but this is funny. My dad is one of those guys who thinks he can never be taken by anyone. Used car salesman, remember? If anyone pays $1000 too much on a car he'll give you hell and tell you that you "got your head ripped off." And laugh at you. Seriously. But the thing is, my dad is the biggest sucker for a good sales pitch. He's the guy who buy crap stock because some guy he met on the airplane said it was good. He buys stuff from people making calls from a boiler room.
The thing is, I always thought the appraisals on their stuff were suspect. They were written up by the same company that sold the items-- which has subsequently gone out of business. They misspelled words on the appraisal-- that should be a clue shouldn't it?
So my parents thought they had a 19th Century piece of art that turned out to have been made in Mexico about 30 years ago. They thought it would be worth more than $30k and I'll be lucky to get one thousand out of it. Yeah, that sounds about right. The other piece, the one that's supposed to be worth $18k is worth about $500.
I felt bad at first because I thought I wasn't going to be able to send my brother anything. But all may not be lost. My parents left 4 pieces of art by Peter Max (on the living room floor for anyone to take no less) that are signed and authenticated. Those might actually be worth something and my parents don't even know I have them. If I can get something for those that will go directly to my brother so he can recoup something out of this mess.
So my husband has more stories to tell at work and I have more material for my future therapy sessions.
Sorry for unloading again. But jeez, my parents are crazy. I wonder if they have alzheimer's.....
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