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Showing posts with label Rude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rude. Show all posts

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Processing

Boy wouldn't life be easier if we didn't have to deal with other peoples feelings?  I suppose the trade off for the complicated situations are the moments of peace and utter happiness that comes with loving yourself and those around you.

I was secretly pleased when I joined Jason's family only to discover that there was familial unrest and long seeded angst over issues that occurred during the childhoods of some of the cousins.  Not pleased in that I was taking joy in their inability to get along or cope as adults, but comfort in the fact that similar situations in my own family aren't as unique as I thought they were.

Since our wedding, when an unrelated crisis occurred and things came to a head, two members of the immediate cousins have stepped out of the family under the idea that it's easier not to deal with anyone else.  Having never really had the opportunity to know these folks as warm, loving people the loss is mostly the hurt my most important person has experienced.  I don't mean to suggest that he's ever sat down and wept over this situation, but I can tell that the withdrawal of friendship and the harsh things said about other members of the family are hurtful.  

For me, it is a lost opportunity to welcome the entire family into my life.   You may not believe it based upon what I share here, but I'm pretty guarded about my feelings.  (I get that from my dad.)  Now, with the inclusion of Jason and Lucy in my world I'm extremely guarded about their feelings as well.  Should the "family rift" be healed and everyone starts coming to family events again, it will be a long time before (if ever) I warm up an open myself or openly welcome these folks into our inner sphere.

I state all this because a similar situation is occurring on my side of the family and I'm considering drawing a line in the sand.  The decision is a lot more difficult because I know these folks and have grown up with them in my life.

Without getting into the gory details, one of the sisters is mad at my mom and has decided to cut off communication.  I suppose this is fine, if at the age of 60, you decide it is easier to step out of family events rather than deal with the offending sister.  However, it should be no surprise that doing that means you're opting out of all events where said sister is present.   I mean, if you're mad at me and don't want to see me, don't be shocked that Jason isn't popping by to say hi and have a glass of wine from time to time.  We are a team.  Similarly, as much as I have fond memories of time spent with this aunt and uncle, my heart lies with my parents.

Unfortunately, during Lucy's birthday weekend my failure to invite my aunt and uncle to Lucy's 1st birthday festivities became known to them in a way that was unintentionally, but none the less hurtful and my uncle called to ask about it.  I tried to cover (lie) to deflect, but as the conversation went on I fessed up that since I hadn't seen or heard from them since June, when they came to a picnic at my parents house and but didn't speak a single word to my mom, and then didn't respond to a genuine invitation to come to our home for a visit, that I thought I was following the party line and was leaving them alone per their own desires.   The phone call was uncomfortable and compounded by the fact that we had house guests who could hear my side of the conversation and were thankfully too polite to inquire.

So, here's the part that raises my blood pressure.  While my uncle was on the phone asking about what was going on and why they weren't invited, my aunt was in her car driving over to my parents house.  In the heat of her anger, she assumed that my mom was preventing me from having a relationship with her.  Her choice of names for my mother was (to be polite) unacceptable and the fact that she had to be told emphatically to get out of the house is troubling.  Be hurt, be angry, but don't forget yourself and lose control.  I live in a peaceful world, a peaceful house with people who are loving.  Sure, there are frustrations, but we do not scream and call each other names that rhyme with "sticking finch".    I don't want Lucy exposed to that within the comfort of her own family and I don't want her to think it is ever acceptable to refer to anyone in the family in those terms.  You can disagree, and even dislike members of your family, but disrespecting them in their own home is ... trashy.   Furthermore, the idea that at the age of 43, that my mom has any power whatsoever to prohibit me from having a relationship with anyone I want is preposterous.  It's laughable, I think Jason snorted milk through his nose at the idea that I could be "controlled".   I took it as a compliment that I'm a confident, self-assured woman and not a bull-headed, moose who does what I want regardless of rational thought.  Don't correct me, I like the way I'm looking at it.

My uncle asked me to reach out to my aunt to apologize for the invitation oversight and maybe suggest times we could get together (in neutral territory.)  I agreed, but that was before I knew about the drama at my parents house.  I've been mulling over a response and it isn't very "come visit!" or "let's meet for dinner".   They are 100% entitled to not like or spend time with anyone they like, but the same is true for me.  Furthermore, just as I'm not inclined to expose Lucy to the nuttiness that are the "angry cousins" I'm not inclined to give her lots of time with people who openly express anger towards her Grandmother.  (And by lots, you know I mean none....)

Life is too short to be spent being angry with each other, but if that's the path you're on, I can't stop you, but I can keep your angry energy out of my home.  Tragedy and sadness will come regardless of what I do, but our daily life can be peaceful and happy, so that when we're touched by the hard things in life we have a solid foundation to rely on.  (Is that too Zen for you?)

Anyway, I'm thinking if I respond to my aunt that an open letter to all the sisters is in order.  There's a lot of re-interpretation that happens among themselves and I'd rather be an open book than open for paraphrasing.

We'll see.  My next step is to write a letter, share it with my sane partner and then decide what to do.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

The temptation to be evil is so stong with this one...

My flight home yesterday was a bit bumpy but for the most part uneventful.  However, with the three day Memorial Day holiday upon us there were a lot more non-business travelers at the airport yesterday.

Thankfully the San Jose Mineta airport is not a major hub and thus even though it was slow getting through security there weren't thousands upon thousands of people (like at SeaTac.)

I had gathered (all) my things and was headed towards the exit to the terminal when a grandmotherly lady stopped me and asked "where do I wait for my pat down?"

Since you know from experience that I AM EVIL, there are many answers to this question that ran through my head.  The options were:

  • Just stand here and wave your arms and call out 'I need someone to rub one out'.
 
  • Go stand in front of that guard and in order to keep it quick it will help if you take off your own shirt.
 
  • Wait until you hear your name being paged over the airport intercom and then RUN to your gate.

  • They don't pat down everyone, just the folks who are selected randomly at those doors (the exit), to avoid being selected you have to slowly approach the door, stop, look around and then hop over the threshold.

Seeing as how the rapture was supposed to happen and didn't so I don't know if it is still worth my time to be kind to others I told her the truth.  "It's ok to go on through, if you were doing anything wrong they would already be yelling at you."

The desire to see this grandma yell "rub one out" was really really strong... I think I should get points for being humane.

On a slightly different topic, May is National Masturbation Month.  What are you doing to celebrate?

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

'Nuff Said

When invited to an event... RSVP.  It is polite to let the hosts know if you'll be attending.  It's far better to say no, without an explanation rather than ignore the invitation.

(For the record, I DID let this slide without mention the first time around, but the second occurrence feels like a trend and I doubt further invitations will be extended.)

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Missing the point, big time.

Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas made an announcement that it will picket the funeral of Christina Green, the 9-year-old who was one of six people killed Saturday during the attempted assassination of U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords.

WBC is the same group that has made its name by staging protests at funerals of people who died of AIDS, gay people, soldiers and even Coretta Scott King.  These folks test my patience and make me wonder how on earth they sleep at night. 

If you don't like gay people, um don't be gay (not that you'd have a choice if you were gay) and if you're against to war then be peaceful and work to better your community or the community of people affected by war.  If you're against AIDS - heck, we're ALL against AIDS.  Fund research and prevention education.   If Coretta Scott King pisses you off... then I'm just confused.  (Well, she did advocate for human rights, women's rights, LGBT rights, economic issues, world peace, and various other causes - that "evil" woman.)
 As for protesting the funeral of a 9-year-old girl who was caught in the cross fire of a (may I suggest) deranged and misguided person, the idea is preposterous.  What good can come from causing this kids family more pain?  How is God involved in that action?  Do these people expect to be rewarded by God?


I wish I lived in the area to participate in the Angel Corps.  These are folks who will line the streets with tall wings to block the protest signs thus enabling the family, and mourners to enter their place of comfort without the visual distraction of hate signs.  The WBC people may be heard, but they won't be seen.   It is a beautiful, non-violent reaction.  The WBC people have every right to say what they want, per our constitution, but as fellow humans they disgust me.


As for the other topic of the day, this kind of sums it up.  I think we all need to be mindful of the "rhetoric" we put out there because you never know who might be paying attention.  If nothing else, the implication of a connection between your sassy little map Mrs. Palin and the events on Saturday are detrimental to your intended message of what you think is good for America. 

Well, That and She Deleted the Maps From Her Sites

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Again?

Here I sit waiting on that same dude. NOT COOL

He gets 4 more minutes and then I'm gone.

Thank heavens for the iPhone so I can kill zombies while I wait, er I mean multi-task

Friday, June 12, 2009

Frequent flyer jerk-offs

Dear Alaska elite flyer,

Sir, it is obvious that you fly more frequently than the rest of us. Your 'elite' status on this airline was hard earned by logging thousands of air miles. The airline appreciates your business and offers you lots of perks such as upgrades, discounts and early
boarding for flights.

To be honest I don't begrudge your premium seat assignments or your guaranteed overhead storage for your too big carry on. You earned it.

However! Your early boarding privileges end the moment they start to board the rest of us on the flight. If you are late to the gate wait your damn turn.

Pushing through the crowd of people patiently waiting to board yelling "I'm MVP" makes you look like the ass you are.

Remember this jerk face: Show up on time or don't cut the line!!!

Thank you for your understanding.

- Terri

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Lesson of the day

When you check into a hotel room be sure to either turn off the preset alarm for 5:30 am or learn how to turn the alarm off so you don't have to learn a new skill at 5:30 a.m.

- Terri

Monday, January 12, 2009

Not OK

The work days are slow and it is a challenge to sit there all day. Today I left at 3 and took the bus to the mall in Bellevue. I spent $7.00 at Crate & Barrel and am now sipping a tall soy chai outside the starbucks.

It is a public space with multiple couches and a large fireplace. One certainly has no expectations of privacy in this space. It is also to be assumed that conversations will be overheard. To combat this many patrons are wearing earphones. I am not in the mood for music and was enjoying the ambient sounds.

WAS.

An older man sat near me and pulled out a transistor radio. It had a little antana and everything. He pulled it out, scanned the dial for a station and then turned it up.

Uh.... I love National Public Radio as much as the next (liberally biased) person but not blasted on a monospeaker portible radio.

I'm giving him the death look now, but my mojo is off. Maybe it is the head injury from yesterday. **GLARE**

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Paranoia

Memorial Day Weekend with friends was great but it kind of ended on an odd note. I resorted to name calling during a card game (and it was totally not done in anger, hate, or frustration) and I went too far. The name calling 'thing' is a terrible habit that I picked up from the family.

It isn't intended to be anything but funny. Clearly, I need to tone it down as I offended my friend Patti. She made it clear that she didn't appreciate it but finished the game where (thankfully I lost) but was quiet the rest of the evening.

She and J. left at 6am the next day so we didn't really get a chance to make amends. She did however leave their dog bowls behind. Rather than having S&K mail the dishes back I took them and dropped them at her house on my way home.

I haven't heard from either Patti or J. since the weekend and I thought for sure I at least would have received a small 'thanks' message as their house is about an hour out of my way. But there's been no communication.

I did fire off an e-mail mid-week regarding a dispute we had over the weekend as to the age of Lindsay Lohan and whether or not it was creepy that the guys think she's hot. She's 20, but it's still creepy. Poor poor rich girl.

So, I'm giving her some space, but I will not allow this friendship to just poof away over something stupid like bad sportsmanship on my part. The other thing to note is that she's out of town on business and probably hasn't given it a second thought. Once the negative thoughts stop swirling in my head I'll approach her as is nothing happened (for the record I apologized the moment the unfortunate word popped out of my mouth. In fact I think the sound of my apology overlapped the sound of the word. It was instant awareness.)

You all know that the last thing I need is to be dropped by another friend.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

crazy pricing makes me mad

Dear Catalog Retailer (PotteryBarn, Illuminations, Crate & Barrel),

I enjoy getting your glossy pages in my mail box, I don't mind being on your lists. In fact, when you don't write I often surf over to your Internet stores to get a fix. I know my life would be so much better if I only had the versatile Bedford Corner Desk in antique white or the Caprice Votive Cups and Hammered Pillar Plate that cast mesmerizing light in complementary shades of soft green.

Your prices are reasonable in fact it's almost like you know how much I make and can spend on these delights. But my yearning for the Bronze Leaf Wall Sconces or the newest Kitchenaid mixer in SeaFoam grinds to an abrupt halt at the way you tier your pricing.

The price should be the price - there shouldn't be any little add on surcharge if it's being delivered. Yes, I will pay for the cost of delivery - but not and inflated price to have it delivered - especially if you don't offer it in your store. This is what runs through my head:

1) I want that, ooh available online only ok
2) Shipping is $15.95
3) The cost is $100 ($20 additional delivery charge)
4) Why in the hell isn't the cost of the item $120? You suck.

If I can buy the thing in your store fine with the extra shipping charge, but if not - the price should be the damned price.

End of rant

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Swan Lake and Peanut Butter


Swan Lake Pacific Northwest Ballet puts on a lovely Swan Lake performance. It's beautiful and makes me cry a little. So pretty.

Of course I do have a complaint. It is me for pete sake. There was a family sitting behind me. Dad, Kid, Younger Kid and Mom. Kid was directly behind me.

K & YK were about 3 and 4 maybe 5 years old. TOO YOUNG TO SIT THROUGH A THREE HOUR BALLET. Thank you very much.

Mom and Dad were thinking about the timing so they kindly brought cherrios in plastic bags for act 1 and those horrific peanut/nut orange-colored crispy things for act 2 and 3. The orange treats were especially nice because as the children shoved them mindlessly into their mouths the peanut butter smell grew with each handful.

The bags nicely crinkled with each tiny monstrous hand movement.

Just in case I became deaf because of the food noise, the children were kind enough to kick my chair in time to the music. Every once in a while I would hear a parent "whisper" something (not in English) to the spasming children. I would NEVER disrupt other patrons to speak during the performance and as my seats are mid-row there's no calling an usher. I attempted to give the father the look of death during the first intermission but they were quick to remove the little darlings to the lobby.

Sadly, the parents brought food items for acts 1-3 but there are 4 acts in Swan Lake. The little princess with her fake angelic eyes and little ribbon in her hair was so bored during act 4 that she started rubbing her cute pink rubber boots together and fiddling with the zipper. Zip up, squeak, zip down, zip up, squeak, zip down, unintelligible "whisper", whine, squeak.

I tried my darnedest to go to my happy place, use my skills at tuning out others to pinpoint my attention on the stage. ZIP. But as I was watching the swans dance across the SQUEAK stage my mind drifted ZIP to ways to punish a parent for CRINKLE placing their children in such an inappropriate situation. ZIP. I don't blame the children.

The little girl next to me (unrelated) asked her daddy if he could make them be quiet SQUEAK. Then he pulled out a gun and made them leave. The entire audience and the dancers gave the dad a standing ovation and then we watched the rest of the ballet in peace. (I wish.) I lived through it without hurting anyone but be careful the next time I hear the squeaking of rubber boots it could be ugly. PBSS... post ballet stress syndrome?

(For the record... I am NOT making light of PTSS. I'm just saying I might understand it a little more now.)