Sister Sarcasm

I’m sarcastic. This is a given fact, and if you’ve ever met me in real life, it’s fairly obvious after about 5 minute’s worth of talking.

When I’m at work, in front of customers or certain coworkers, I mask.

Masking – a process in which an individual changes or “masks” their natural personality to conform to social pressures, abuse or harassment.

If I’m in an unknown social situation where I’m expected to “conform” to social norms, I mask.

But catch me in a known, comfortable, or laid-back social setting (ex., with friends, or my kids)? And you’ll get the Sarcastic Sister.

And… I use it to deflect criticism, as well.

In fact, I will use sarcastic self-deprecation to head off criticism from others.

I mean, if I’m cutting myself down… what good is it for someone else to attempt microaggressions & insults?

After all, I got there first, and with far better sarcastic insults about myself than anyone else can come up with. Who knows me better than me? Who knows right where to stick the knife so as to thwart further injury by outsiders?

Yup.

I emotionally cut myself to prevent others from doing so.

That’s priceless logic, ain’t it?

So, to show what I mean, a friend of mine upon moving away, gave me a box of affirmations. In the “advent calendar” style, you can pop one open & read something nice, that’s supposed to boost your mood about yourself.

So, of course, I’ve started opening them, & immediately twisting them.

Cause of how I do.

Pandora’s box, Trojan horse…same feel.

My body doesn’t make the sweet feelings anymore, so I use store-bought.

Because – science.

Cloning – not for everyone.

*sigh* is the picture clear enough, or..maybe a couple more.

No caption necessary

My personal favorite – simple & eloquent

One day, I decided the shit was deep enough around me, so I’d take it easy on myself…

Nice enough, yeah?

One of my coworkers asked me yesterday

“How the hell.do you think these things up? Do they just pop into your brain as soon as you read the cards?”

*sigh* yeah.

It’s called Maladaptive Cognition.

There’s always that small “voice” in my brain that pipes up to knock me “back into my lane”.

Another coworker told me I should write “sarcastic self-affirmations”, cause they’d sell like crazy. Meh. I know they might, but why risk yet another form of rejection among so many others?

I usually just shrug it off in front of others, & lay it off to “Well, I’m just twisted.”

They agree, & we go on about our business. They’ve been entertained with my antics, & I’ve prevented someone else from hurting my feelings by beating them down a little myself.

It keeps the hyenas off my lawn.

Sarcasm – the ultimate self defense.

It’s Finally Happened

I’ve finally, truly, given up on ever having faith in men.

I just don’t believe that they’ll ever do what they say they will, anymore.

I don’t have any fucks to give when it comes to romance, either.

I’m so done with giving chances to men who shit on me, take me for granted, walk all over me & treat me as though I were nothing more than a convenience drive-through for them.

It’s been a long time coming, this attitude, and a slow death by attrition, but after everything – I’m just. Fucking. Done.

I don’t want anymore promises, no more “please, just one more chance”s… No more winky faces, no more flirtatious texts or DMs on Instagram. No more “trying just one last time” on dating sites, because Goddess knows – THAT is the LAST fucking thing I need. No more damn messages asking me about my “likes and dislikes”.

Fuuuuuuuck… I’m so tired of all the bullshit, only to end up alone again at the end of it all, because it really was all just a game to the other person.

I’m too damn old for this shit.

I’m too old for these men who “claim” they “love me” (ha) and yet they can’t ever seem to make their way to my damn door. Oh, but they can text every day, and want to talk on the phone, sure, cause that’s easy.

But, actually showing up?

Naw, that’s hard.

Sorry.

Fuck off.

I’m busy.

I don’t have time to read your texts anymore, and I’m not answering the phone when you call.

You want to tell me you looove me?

Fucking prove it, bitch.

Til then, I’m out.

I got no fucks to give.

Going Viral

I’ve been down with the flu for 3 days now. Vacillating between hot & cold, aches & chills. And the whole “regurgitating plumbing” issue.

It started on Sunday, completely ruining the “last weekend before school starts” plans I had for OnlySon & myself. Mother/son bonding time out the window. *sigh*

But, I’m lucky I have my EldestDaughter & OnlySon here. They’ve been helping out with all the little things I just can’t do. Taking care of the animals, running to the store, etc. 

Called in to work this morning, to let them know I’m still under the influence of the influenza… Influenza lasts from 2 to 5 days for the obvious (puking, diarrhea) symptoms, & up to 3 weeks for the fatigue, cough, & sniffles to disappear.

“Are you sure it’s not appendicitis or something?”
Considering the fact that my appendix hasn’t exploded & killed me in the 3 days I’ve been puking…yeah, I’d say that’s a “No”.

Yesterday was the worst of it, I think.  So I’m going to assume I’m on the downside of the virus, & will be able to resume our regularly scheduled programming shortly.

In the meantime, I’m sipping fruity cocktails & lounging… (flavored water & in my jammies under a blanket).
Ciao.

November Rain

Otherwise known as SNOW in North Dakota, this November has rained down all manner of craptasticness.

So much, all crammed into just a short space of time.

Geezus, it’s not even the 15th of the month, yet, and I’ve already broken my ankle, had more unwarranted legal drama with EldestDaughter (she has to go to court for something that the legal system didn’t update, and prove that she actually took care of something – luckily, she has all the paperwork backing her up – BUT, she still has to follow their timeline, put up with their bullshit, and probably be out the money for the lawyer because THEY CAN’T UPDATE THEIR SYSTEM) *ok, mini rant over*, and had yet another serious allergy attack due to a coworker who thinks that the office-wide emails going out about not wearing scented lotions and strong perfumes couldn’t possibly be about her. *ok, so rant just changed trains… (deep breath)*

It’s only November 13, and I’ve had it.

I’m tired of all this crap that this gawd-awful month is dishing out.  I’m through with dissolving into the exhausted tears that always seem to herald yet another THING that is kicking me in my gimp foot while I’m down.

I want a RECALL on that vote to leave this freaking month in the calendar year.

Rename the damn thing; take a few days from the month and spread them out to those that don’t have as many as the others… February could use a whole extra freaking WEEK for all I care.

GET RID OF NOVEMBER.

Can I start a Kickstarter project for this?  Raise the money and have people sign a petition?

WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO to make this awful travesty of a man-made “month” go away??

*drops mic and hobbles off stage*

 

Countdown to Blastoff

I have 1 week in which to prepare for the high school graduation of YoungerDaughter.

Gah.

My internet connection at home has been spotty – at best.  The modem is dying, and has begun its last gasps of hot, tainted air.  The cable company told me they’d be out “somewhere between 8am and 5pm”.   So… that means Tuesday, the 12th of never, right?

A couple of days ago, my youngest child, OnlySon – broke his left arm.  Both bones.

The one on the bottom, is a 50% displacement fracture (according to the orthopedic doctor).

The top one, the ulna, is a slight “greenstick” break, near his wrist.  It just shows up on the x-ray as a “fuzzy line” (official radiology terminology, I assure you.) 

This x-ray was taken after they casted his arm.  Nope, they don’t re-set the bones on kids for this type of break.  Surprised me too.  There’s a long, complicated reason, the doctor explained and assured me about.  However, if the bones shift any more within the next 3 weeks, OnlySon may have to have pins and plates surgically inserted into his arm to correct this. 

Yay.

To top it off, he has to wear his new appendage accessory for at least 6 weeks, with a possibility of a separate, shorter cast for another 3 weeks after that – depending on how it heals.

He was overjoyed at this pronouncement.

So, this means no swimming. For the whole summer.  Or at least, most of it.

The one physical activity that OnlySon really gets into, and he isn’t going to be able to even splash around in a baby pool.

Last summer, we had most of our city flooded, including the public pool.

No swimming last year.

No swimming this year.

This also happened to occur 10 days before the end of his school year.

He had to stay out for the last 2 days, due to pain, and the effects of the pain medication the doctor put him on. 

The end of this school year is looming over all of our heads like a vicious, man-eating hydra, snarling, dripping and horrible.

See, with the dripping?

And every time you take care of one problem, cut off one of the heads – 2 more sprout and take its place.

Gotta love that Greek mythology.

So, I’m making lists, checking them – not twice, I’m not Santa Claus – but constantly, throughout the day, everyday.

Planning, re-planning, re-drawing my battle plans and lists.

Counting down to blastoff.

Graduation Day.

Where the hell are my cap and gown?

I should be graduating with honors for my multitasking abilities and for keeping my sanity.

That is – if I still have it at the end of next week.

 

Z – and the End

Little Buddha, we have finally reached the end of the alphabet.

But, this does not mean that we’ve reached the end of things that your Gramma is going to teach you – not by a long shot! 

There are years and years of lessons ahead, my precious grandson, so let’s just get this part of the teaching out of the way, shall we?

Z – is for Zoo.  You’re quickly learning – our family is rather one of these.  Full of wild animals of all kinds and quirks, our family is definitely varied and can be fun. 

Just make sure you don’t stick your fingers between the bars, or attempt to feed them by hand.

You’ll lose the fingers, and possibly your sanity.

Of course, with this family – sanity is optional, so it’s not like anyone around here will notice the difference or make an issue of it!  We’re all one, big happy family of wild critters!

Z – is for Zero.  This is how many times you’ll have to wonder if Gramma loves you.

Never doubt.

Gramma loves you, and always will.

And Zero is the times you’ll ever go a day without hearing it.

And, for theGrande Finale…..

Z – is for ZOMBIES!!!

Of course it is.  Everything these days is about zombies – right?

This is the latest and strangest trend I’ve seen in a long time, Little Buddha.  People everywhere are “getting on board” and joining the “Zombie Extermination Crews”, because, supposedly, the Zombie Apocalypse is just around the corner.

There are t-shirts, posters, and even decorations (not just for bumperstickers, anymore!) for your vehicle to identify you to other Zombie-Slayers.

Weird, I know, but this is true.

We’re gonna have to get you one of these, just so you can be prepared.

 

Of course, by the time the apocalypse actually happens… you’ll be older, wiser, and probably ready to drive… so maybe we can trick out Gramma’s van like some of the other kids these days.

 

There we go.  Now we’re ready to roll, Little Buddha.

Just let Gramma get her gear.

I’m an Oxymoron

I don’t know when it really started, but I’ve realized lately that I’m a complete moron.

An Oxy-moron.

You see, if you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you know by now that “Brea” is not my real name, and my children aren’t really named ElderDaughter, YoungerDaughter and OnlySon… nor is my grandson named Little Buddha.  These are all nicknames.  Brea is my online name, and my pagan name, which helps to protect me, as well as my family, from recriminations coming from people who don’t understand my religion.  My children’s privacy is very important to me, so I use the nicknames to guard them.

And yet, using these nicknames… I’ve poured out more of my life, personal and private, here, on this blog, than just about anywhere else.  A little anonimity goes a long way, I guess, toward making me feel secure about spilling such personal details over the internet.  Add in the fact that I’ve made so many dear, supportive friends here, and that just ups my comfort level.

But, as far as my facebook goes… where my given, real-life name resides…

There is very little of the personal, private information out there. 

Why the discrepancy?  Well, maybe it’s a little bit about the fact that my face and real name are so out there.  Maybe it’s, in part, the fact that almost all of the people on my facebook are family, both genetic and chosen, so they know me face to face.  They see me in real life, and it’s harder to be as open there, as vulnerable, as I am here, standing behind the wall of nicknames.  Facebook is much more “reality invasive”, so it’s harder to let even some of those friends/family into the reality that lives behind my face.  A lot of the things that I say here, never make it out into the open air in the real world, except to a very few chosen “inner circle” people that I know.

And this last weekend really drove home the privacy issue.

I’ve gone through stages on facebook of purging people who aren’t really my friends.  I used to be one of the folks who “friended” everyone.  I used to play the games, and scrounged for neighbors amongst strangers.  I actually did make a friend or 2 out there, playing those games, and we are still friends to this day.  Those people aren’t the issue.

The issue is the folks who do know me in real life… but who aren’t really friends or family.  People who think that just because they know me out in the physical world, they need to be my “friend” on facebook. 

I had someone try a guilt trip on me this weekend, shortly after ElderDaughter had Little Buddha in the hospital. 

Let me preface this with the fact that – my facebook is set as “private”.  No one gets to see anything unless they’re actually my “friend”.  This is to protect my privacy, as well as the privacy of my family and other friends.  I still have 2 minor children living in my home, and now I also have ED and Future-Son-In-Law staying with me, with Little Buddha.  Privacy is a premium priority.

And yet, this person, just because she wanted to post something to my wall, got all upset because she was one of the folks that I “unfriended” quite a long time ago… and she had just noticed this fact when she couldn’t access my page.

She hadn’t noticed it when I unfriended her.

But now, she was irritated because she couldn’t do what she wanted on MY facebook page.

And proceeded to send me a “hurt” private message about “Was it something I said?”

And then, when I didn’t respond – (believe me, I had a few things to do over the weekend, and this wasn’t a priority), she confronted me at work. 

Trying to guilt me into “re-friending” her, I’m sure.  And when I didn’t respond in the manner she was hoping for, turning to give me searching looks everytime I pass her at the office.

really.

So, I got pissed.  I’ve posted on fb about possibly deleting my facebook page, to cancel out the problem.  If there’s no facebook page, there isn’t anyplace for people to get pissy about how I run my own freaking page.

This is why I am an oxymoron.

My blog is where I pour my heart, my head – but I do it behind a nickname.

My facebook is all about the mirrors and the “public face”, and yet it carries my real name.

Ass-backwards.  But true.

Snarks in the Water

I can sense them….

Circling below me, watching…

Waiting…

Sniffing at my toes in the water…

Snark Week is coming!

Get yer floaties, people.

Tawanda’s going for a swim with the snarks.

C'mere...fishy...

A is for Aw, crap… another project meme?

I decided that I’m going to write some more “Gems of Wisdom from an Old Lady” to my new grandchild.  And I’m going to do it in an educational manner – alphabetically, cause you know I’m all about being educational!  So, I’m going to work my way through the alphabet, giving examples of general and specific

Stuff that Every Kid Should Learn About When They Get Here

A:  Is for Applesauce.  Launched at high velocity from highchair level, this mashed and processed fruit makes a wonderful wallpaper paste, as well as a great-smelling hair-care product for Mommy.  On the floor, it can cause many wonderful moments of slapstick humor as people slip in it and step onto it wearing socks.  Also make sure to get the cats, they could use a little fruit in their diets!

It’s also for Adventure.  You’ll have a lot of these in your life, make sure to invite your Gramma along once in a while, hunh?  Life gets boring doing nothing but sitting at home watching Elmo talk to his crayon drawings.  Let’s go find some trouble to get into, shall we?

A is also the first letter in Alcohol.  You don’t ever need this, it’s poison – it’s yucky, and Gramma is going to make sure to put the Mr. Yuck stickers all over any bottle that comes into her house with that word on it.  Poi—-son, stay away from Gramma’s poison, alright?  Gramma’s old, she can drink the poison.  You are little.  You can’t.  Ever. K?

A is a wonderfully versatile letter.  It also starts off the words Adorable, Affectionate, and Absolutely Perfect, which I know you will be. 

So there you go, Little Buddha.  Your A words for the day. 

Tomorrow we’ll work on the letter B.  For Bit— well, let’s keep that for tomorrow, alright?

 

Brain Rabies

I think I’ve been infected.

It started with a sniffle, which moved to post-nasal drip, and stealthily worked its way up into my sinuses and back into my ears.

There is now a soft, but constant ringing noise in my right ear.

I will go insane because of this.

Oh, wait.  Crazy can only get “er”.

I’ve had my voice fluctuating between normal and husky – all the way to non-existent.  People are going to think the multiple personalities are finally coming out to play. 

They’re not – I keep them locked up good and tight with the other Voices in my head.

I know that most people refer to this as “the common cold”, and write it off as a small inconvenience.

Whatever.

It’s brain rabies, I know it!

I’ve heard about brain rabies, a friend with her own troop of flying monkeys told me about it, and so I know it’s real and dangerous, and can only be cured by copius amounts of alcohol and bacon.

For realz.

One of the other symptoms of this heinous disease, so I’ve been told, is that you can’t focus on one thing for more than

Hey! Squirrels! I thought they were hibernating for the winter!

Awww… look how cute they are…

Uh, where was I?

Oh – that’s right.

Brain Rabies – seeee??

No, I didn’t plan that wild tangent all out and go googling for pictures of cute little squirrels to distract you – it was just like it happened here, honest.  It’s the rabies, man.

I’ve had a million and one things floating around in my brain lately, all stuff that I wanted to blog about, sorta…

But, have you ever had 2 colors of play-doh, and made something where you mixed it together?

Yeah, it doesn’t ever look right again, and you can’t pick those 2 colors apart ever.

Hey… doesn’t this look a little like a squirrel, if you cock your head to the side a little and squint?

 Jumping tracks again, sorry.

And I just had the crap scared out of me!

While googling  for a picture of “mixed up playdoh”, I ran across this:

This is a picture of another blogger’s cat.

Here’s Sally, mine: 

Twins?  Doppelgangers? 

I don’t know, but I do know that if there are 2 out there like my Patchwork Sally – in all her rabid-squirrel-coon-cat glory…

We’re all doomed.

Brain rabies is only the beginning.