Odd People

I've been getting the odd comment every now and then. Probably spam. I know this really isn't worth reading, but it's nice to think that someone reads this. Of course, they probably think, "Wow! This chick really needs help! Mentally, that is." I'll take that.

I did finally hear from my son. I might already have gone through it here, but I don't remember so I'll do it again. My ex is also on Facebook (NO, I have NOT friended him), and bless his little obsessive heart got a coworker to get Jimmy to contact us. Turns out he'd been kind of depressed. (Gee, I wonder where he got that?!) I told him that I needed to hear from him, even if he had nothing to say, even if it's just dumping on me, whatever. I told him, (from experience) he needed to get those feelings out, to me, to a blog, a journal, whatever, just don't let them sit and fester. I think I got through to him. I think.

I got me an iPad2 with my tax refund. I'm happy. Well, yes and no. I'm happy and sad at the same time. I'm happier than I've been in over a decade. But I still have that little bit a sadness, like a shadow behind me. Sometimes I wonder, Fringe-like, what the other Pattyes in the other universes are like. Maybe they got into a different class in third grade. Maybe they didn't, but wasn't destroyed by it, maybe it made them stronger. Maybe it was worse. Maybe I didn't survive my childhood. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I want to travel, but I don't have the money. I'm practically a hoarder. I suck at housecleaning. I just get so worn down.

I just wish I mattered. I wish...

I guess it doesn't matter.

Two Months

I know, I know, I know, he's a grown man. He has his own life. Talking to me is pretty far down on his radar. But... I just want to hear from him. He can yell and scream at me. I know I screwed up his life by standing by and letting the Hubby bully him. Sigh. Two months.

How much longer?

Dear Jimmy,

This is the email I would have been writing you. I haven't heard from you since December 22. Yes, it's driving me out of my mind. But I am determined to let you live your own life. Be your own man. A man who should CALL HIS MOTHER ONCE IN AWHILE!! Even if he has nothing to say. So I'm writing here instead.

Nothing's really happening here. Randy buys whatever crap he wants, I hold myself back so we don't just spend ourselves into oblivion. I get to be the adult. I'm tired. I want a life of my own, but I guess I'm too afraid to go after it.

The Year of Being Happy?

I haven't heard from my son in three weeks. I guess that's not a big deal. But one of the days was Christmas. I guess I royally messed up his life. I should have told Randy and Sandy to knock it off, but I was too timid. It's only been three weeks, though. I, in all probability, am making way too much out of it.

I wanted to save the money. Now one or two guitars, some gun stuff later and I'm already down a thousand dollars. I know Randy would tell me I could buy whatever I wanted, and that would be true. But someone has to be the adult. Someone has to put the brakes on their spending. I wish it didn't always have to be me, but there you go.

I wish I had someone to talk to. I guess that's why I still have this. It's not big, or witty, or important, or well traveled, but it's important to me. It gives me that place I can dump all my worries, troubles, what-have-you, without hurting people, without looked down upon.

I still wish my son would send me an email. If just to say, "Kiss my ass".

Needed to Vent

May?! Really?! Wow!

I'm writing here now because I need somewhere to spew, that's not out in the open, like Facebook. Not a lot has happened. Well, like one great big thing, and a couple of little things.

Well it came onto the end of November, the current oil lease was about up. I was hoping for a modest increase over January 2005's money. Tandye and I spoke to a really nice man named Alan, from Cordillera Engery, signed lots of papers, and for a really , REALLY short time was looking for a promised $144,000. Then, I think it was the next week, we learn the current lease holder (with 2 or 3 weeks left in the lease) was going to drill. To the uninitiated, it's "Wow!! Drilling a well!! Your going to be rolling in money from now on!!" Well, it doesn't end up that way. Originally, in December 2004, there were two leases. They drilled pretty quickly on the one lease. I kept waiting and waiting for that royalty money to roll in. I didn't get any until at least six months after the well was drilled. It started out to be a couple hundred a month (a life saver after I got fired from Cendant/Triliegiant/Whatever), then every other month, now I'm lucky if it's $90 a quarter. So when December 14 rolled around, the original end of the lease, Alan, the really handsome, nice man from Cordillera Energy, called to apologize. I kind of dumped on him. I think I apologized, at least I hope I did. And then I cried. And cried. And cried. I cried all day. I gave it the day, and felt a little better. I'm not getting a new (or new to me) car any time soon now. I can hope for a little of the surface damage money, and if so, I wish it would come soon, I'm down to a dollar in the checking account. (I'm kind of stupid with money).

So that was the big thing. I was getting $144,000, but now I'm not. In six to nine months I can hope for $90 a quarter.

My husband's in more and more pain. Everyday he says he wants to die. I tell him, unfortunately, his arthritis may cripple him, his Type II Diabetes might try to destroy his body, but they won't necessarily kill him. I get tired of living in the Pit of Despair. Maybe this is what it was like living with me when I was depressed, but I (at least in my mind) tried not to inflict my downerness on other people. And he's more and more into guns, into (yuck!) Glen Beck, and Rush Limbaugh (another yuck!), and is watching The 700 Club! Really?! We are sooo far apart anymore. I don't feel I matter. Not at all. A part of me wishes he would die, that that would be a relief on my part. But I would lose the house. I guess I just have to bear it.

The other thing bothering me, I haven't heard from my son in just over two weeks. I guess that's not long. He IS in Japan. But since Randy left a mean remark on Jimmy's Facebook page, I'm afraid he's blaming me. He's said repeatedly he doesn't blame me. But I do. He's such a good guy. I let Randy and his mother Sandy bully him. It IS my fault. Yet he loves me anyway.

I just haven't heard from him in a while, and that kinda drives me nuts.

Out With the Hot Flashes, In With....

Yeah.

Yeah.

On one hand, I haven't had many hot flashes lately, which is good. On the other, I've been depressed. Not the major - wake up crying - can't get a handle on it - depression, but an unrelenting sadness. My sister and her kids, they're happy, they're active, they're so...well, TOGETHER. Look at me, I'm practically house-bound. Work and home and work and home. Yes, I read and knit and crochet, but that's it. Maybe it should be enough, maybe I'm being selfish. But it's not. I hate being shy. I hate the thought of doing things alone, but if I don't, I won't. God, I think I've written this before. I'm a freakin broken record. I might as well write down how much I want to be on the View, how I want to do the Amazing Race, write my own novel. And yet...and yet, none of that is going to happen. And while I'm going on about things that are not going to happen, I guess I could go on about stuff I'm not going to have - an iPhone, a Macbook (or iPad), an iPod, the boxed set of the Beatles, my little strawbale house.

sigh.

Eh, Vacation

You know, the only reason I took the remainder of my vacation, was because I was getting kind of stressed at work. I'm a cashier at Wally world, and I've probably said this before, but I like it. I like my store. Weird. But it was getting to me, and I had to use or lose it by April 29, my anniversary date. But, jeez, I hate sitting at home. I want to GO and DO, but that takes money. I did get to see Greg Mortenson's lecture at Lloyd Noble Arena (Center?) yesterday. HE SIGNED MY BOOK!!!! I was too shy to talk :( Jeez, I hate being shy. I don't really hate my life, it's just soooo darn boring! And it's all on me. I could have extra money, if I got a second job. But the first one tires me out. I guess I'm just tired. Tired of hot flashes and night sweats. Tired of the Hubby railing against my president. Tired of the Hubby's gun obession. Tired of his nonstop adoration of Glenn Beck. Tired of being invisible. Tired of being yelled at for my beliefs. I'd kind of like to be alone, but I don't want to lose my house.

all done.
yeah, I think I'm mildly depressed.

Not a Damn Thing

That would be the answer to what I've been doing for the last 3 months. I've been mildly depressed. In January I got mononeucleosis, a fun, new experience for me. In February I got my updated mammogram and ultrasound (just the left boob). It's still fine. Around that time I got to see 3/4 of Avatar in Imax 3D, until one of the projectors boogered up and stopped the movie. I got a free pass, which I haven't used (and hopefully doesn't expire), and a refund. In March I started a new crochet project, still not done because I underestimated how much yarn I would need. It's about 7 or 8 rows from being done. I've got another in mind, but haven't purchased the yarn for it yet. You know what the pattern said I would need is crap. I even made sure I was getting my gauge (unimportant really for an afghan). I'm still a beginner to crochet, but hell, I've been knitting for 30 years and I still suck at gauge swatches. I get bored and say, "That's enough for a measurment." Anyway, I will finish my afghan project (a possible future christmas or birthday present), and start the next one. I also have a couple of different sock yarns to mess with, but the blues are kinda putting the kibosh on that.

My son is in Yokosuka, Japan. That's where his ship, the USS George Washington, is. He's busy and has friends to hang around with, and doesn't really see eye to eye with Randy. It's hard to think of him as a grown man. And yes, that would be Mama, laughing at me from Heaven.

I'm still at Wal-Mart. Almost at my 3 year mark. I know I should be looking for the "good job" that pays more and stuff, but I like my job and my store and the people I work with and for. And for retail, I get paid pretty good.

As for the Hubby, I still feel all but invisible. I'd like to think that I matter, but I don't. Case in point, I told him I wanted an iPod so I can listen to music while I walk the dogs, but he bought some cheapie that he found in Walgreens, a $20 or $30 knockoff. He didn't even go there specifically to buy that, but was there to pick up a prescription. So. I'm an afterthought. And god forbid I talk politics. We use to not be that far apart, now it's a gulf. sad.

Well I got that off my chest.

The Storm of the Century

I was confused. It looked horribly bad outside my Wal-Mart on Thursday, and yet my store was filled. I could only see the blowing snow, but people kept coming in and coming in. When I got off at 4:30, I didn't know whether I should attempt to go home, I live in Guthrie, yet work in Stillwater, or get a hotel room in Stillwater in the night. I had learned the Interstates were closed, and yet I went home anyway. South on State highway 177 to State Highway 33. Wind blowing 90 to nothing, snow in blinding clouds, I made my way slowly home. I went almost sideways a couple of times. There was a big truck (at the time I thought it was a semi, but it was a big delivery truck) following me, too closely at times, taking the same lines in the road I was. The road was mostly empty, there were a couple of vehicles coming at me, which I didn't like at all - since I was in the middle of the 2-lane higway most of the time and couldn't tell where the edge of the road was, and didn't want to fall into a drift and get stuck.

I guess it's at this point I should tell you, I wasn't in my Kia. I'm driving my M-in-L's Ford Explorer Sportrac. Why? Well, this time I'm pretty sure it's my fault. My rear brakes were at a metal-on-metal scraping point, I told people, but not good enough I guess. Anyway, on my way to work (a 40minute drive), I'm almost there, I hear a clunk, like I ran over something, then something scraping like I'm dragging it along the ground. I pulled over and got out, but saw nothing obvious, so started on to work. Then I smelled something burning and my brakes stopped working. Now I think (but I'm not sure) my front brakes are working, but not well. I managed to get to Wally World without other incident, but had the Hubby pick me up. And so it sits until we can get somebody more able bodied than the Hubby to take his trailer and pick it up. Because I am not driving it without brakes. Period. I would like to think it's just something simple (and cheap), but I don't think it is.

Anyway, back to the point. I left work at about 5pm and got home about 7pm, normally a 40 minute drive. Then I got the stupid truck stuck at the top of our (at that point of view) downhill driveway. The Hubby came out, got it unstuck, and plowed it onto the U portion of our lawn.

I was happy to be home. We did manage to go to the M-in-L's house on Christmas, with the Tahoe, which needs engine work (at least a tuneup), got it stuck on a big drift covering the driveway. Happy times. I tried to get the minivan out this morning to go to work, but no go. I feel kind of guilty. Like I should have made more of an effort. But with the Hubby's bad arthritis, I don't want him to hurt himself helping me, and we don't think the Tahoe will make it to and from work. And one car stuck at Wal-Mart is enough. Hopefully I can get out tomorrow for work. I can't go without money.

Well, that's my Storm of the Century story, what's yours?

Wow. I haven't wrote a word since September?! What's happened. Well, let's see. In October, my alternator went out. That kinda hacked me off, since it was still relatively new. So, new Alternator, new belt, new bolt and I'm back on the road. Two weeks later, yes that's right, TWO WEEKS LATER, the belt broke, the bolt broke and it's back in the shop. Now it's about a month later, the belt broke AGAIN, this time on my way home from work, so my poor aging (8 years old now) Kia Spectra (a 2002 - one of the worst crash test results ever) sat forlornly a the new Stillwater Tractor Supply for about a week, maybe less, until I could buy not 1 but 2 new tires for the Hubby's dovetail trailer so we could pick up my car and deliver it to the mechanic. Which we did today. The Mechanic (ok, technically his son, since it's a family affair) is bumfuzzled, said it sounds like something is locked up. Yay!! First my air conditioner compressor (or whatever) locks up (so yes, no AC, no defroster), what now? Sounds like time to get a new (to me) vehicle. Can I get one for free? I can afford free!

My son sent me some yarn from Australia, 4 skeins of wonderful, orgain wool, so soft, you just wanted to smoosh your face in it. I've made 3 hats out of it, a little bit of 2 colors left. Oh he also sent me a skein of hemp/wool blend, it feels icky, but would make a great shopping bag. I made one itchy hat out of it. I also got a boomerang.

My husband has discovered facebook, so now I can't be completely open there. I'm so tired. All I hear is guns, killing, and right wing wackery, day after day. I just don't want to go home sometimes. Then I feel bad about that. I just wish I mattered to someone.

Well someone other than me. I may be my own bestfriend, but I could use someone other than the voices in my head. You know as a cashier, I see guys buying stuff for their ladies, cards, flowers, jewelry, and such. It would be nice to be thought of that way. Sometimes I think the Hubby would be happier with a robot wife.

sigh.