Resurrection of the Awkward Girl

I haven't posted in a long time. There's nothing really happening in my life that I felt was worth writing about. When I started this blog, a handful of years ago, it was supposed to be about a person (me) trying to figure out my way through life after something huge (to me) and how to overcome those weird painfully awkward moments that a lot of other people don't really relate to. Like how hard it is for me to buy something at a store because of how much the interaction with the person at cash wigs me out. It ended up turning into almost a circus, where I felt like if it wasn't a tale about something seriously weird, nobody would care to read it. It was never supposed to be about that. I may not have any shocking weird tales to tell at the moment, but I still struggle with that daily abnormal-I-don't-belong-here feeling.

So before I begin, I took everything down. It's still all there, just not posted. I just want a fresh start I guess.

Tonight, Chuck and I were discussing boring, mundane things. Somehow, we got on the topic of things that make the news that turn out to be nothing, and he says something about how the parents up at the school would probably look at me weirdly if I went up there to get The Kid, because he's the one who normally goes to get her. It's not the first time, it's almost like rubbing it in my face that I rarely go. I'm well aware that wasn't his intention at all, but it still smacked. He gets my reasons, sure, but nobody else would. What DO all those parents think of ME?

First of all, we had an agreement when school first started that he'd take her and go get her because he goes to work shortly after she gets home so it gives them some time that's theirs. I thought it would be something nice anyway. Especially since I despise going there, but we'll get to that after my other legit reason/excuse.

Second, the lupus. Here's the thing. I go in the sun for even 5 minutes and I swear I have a new rash. Then it's back on the meds for me, and my nerves I hate taking those damn things. As if I'm not tired enough on a daily basis, the number 1 side effect of these pills are...*drum roll* Tiredness! Yay! Not. Oh, also they are known for causing blindness, so that's an extra 4 wiggy gross eye appointments for me per year. Then there's winter. Lovely, beautiful, freezing winter. I go outside in anything under 10 degrees (Celsius) and all of a sudden - I can't feel my toes. Seriously, no exaggeration, I cannot feel them. It's Raynaud's Phenomemon, for those who are curious, and pretty common in people with lupus. It still sucks though, and can hurt when I get home and attempt to "unfreeze" my feet. It doesn't seem to matter how thick my socks are, either.

On top of that, we get to the awkward me reasons. A) Kids suck. I know it's an unpopular opinion that can result in me getting a lot of hate mail about how awful a person I am, but man kids are nasty creatures sometimes. B) Parents suck worse. I'm an observant person. I don't talk much but that doesn't mean I don't hear and see. Too many people spend too much time talking these days and not enough listening. I'll give a few examples of some times that I've had to go to the school.

The first one was at The Kid's old school. Low-income area. You'd almost think not having the latest I-Phone wouldn't get you a lot of backlash there, but no. Firstly, 3 blocks away from the school (matter of fact, right in front of where I was living at the time) I dared to light a smoke. No kid in sight. You would have thought I was doing hard drugs for the looks I got from these two women walking up to get their children. As a smoker, I'm used to that though. So, whatever. I put out my smoke and follow them up. Trip on a rock in true to myself fashion and let a curse word slip. They turn and give me the Death Stare. "Can you believe it!" I hear one say to the other. "Right in front of the school! What kind of mom does that?"

Fast forward a few minutes. Bell rings. My kid is always one of the last ones out. Kids start streaming out of the school. Those same two women start talking about a teacher. "Oh Em Gee, I cannot wait for parent-teacher meetings. That man is soooo hot! I get warm just thinking about him. Have you heard him play guitar? He is, like, soooo gooood. Like, amazing. His fingers are amazing. You know what they say about guitar players and how goooood they are with their fingers?" Now, The Kid was in this guy's class, so I can attest to the fact that he was indeed a handsome man, but really? Really? It's not cool to have a smoke in front of zero kids, and what kind of mother curses, but it's all good to discuss a teacher in such a manner while there's kids running around within earshot? I just rolled my eyes, had an internal chuckle and went on my way.

Then we move. Now The Kid goes to school in a higher income bracket. I go get her last spring and I get "Do you see what that mom is wearing? Where did she buy those jeans, Walmart? What's wrong with her face anyway, she must be on drugs (the lupus rash, for those not familiar). Just look at her, she obviously has an eating disorder, I don't know how she had a kid with anyone."

People suck. Oh sure, not everyone talks about me in loud whispers like I can't hear. There was that woman who spent her time crying and complaining that her life was so unfair because she booked a spa day that she almost forgot about and going to a spa was totally lame. Um, okay, don't book a spa day then? I dunno. Just a thought.

Another one that stands out to me is a parent trying to have a random small-talk conversation with me. I don't do that well at all, but it's alright because this woman didn't really take a breath for a time for me to formulate a response anyway. It went something like "Can you believe they wanted the kids to have craft store whiteboards this year? Don't tell but I bought my kid one from the dollar store anyway. I mean, it's just so hard this time of year, we just bought a new SUV, and the cost of oil went up, and we spent all summer at our cottage so it's not like we had a lot of time for supply shopping anyway and we've already got the trip booked south for winter break and how can they expect anyone to not get the cheaper supplies with all of that going on, you know?"  No. I don't know. I can't relate to that because I can't afford a brand new vehicle. Oil doesn't matter either, I don't have a house. I spent only a few days on an actual vacation and that's only because of the in-laws. Now, I'm not complaining. I have a roof, food, etc. But I can in no way relate to that. I just smiled though, and nodded sympathetically. I wish I had those issues, yet I'm sure plenty of people see my life as "the good life" too, so I'm not putting her down for them.

Shout out to all the parents who go up there on a daily basis, and they don't bother anyone. I know you outnumber the sucky people by a lot but unfortunately the sucky people are what tends to stick in people's minds late at night when they're trying to fall asleep and combing through everything they heard that day.

So that's me. I don't "mingle" well. I'll remember the horrible things said about me 5 years later and feel bad. My mind is filled with stuff I want to say but it's very, very rare that I ever say what I'm thinking. Instead, something stupid will pop out that I'll immediately cringe over. People often take me for a nitwit airhead because of it. One more short story before I go, kind of in relation to that.

When The Kid was born, I was induced. So, I had what a lot of people would call a quick labor, but during that time, I didn't talk much with the nurse or anything. I was my usual quiet self. No questions, yes I'm fine, one word answers. So The Kid is born and before the end of her shift, she asks me again, "Any questions?" Finally I say "Yes! An important one. Do you guys do vasectomies here?" I swear, that's what I said. Completely straight faced. She leans in and whispers "Oh hunny, those are for men." To which I respond "Oh yes. I know." The look on her face was absolutely priceless. She laughed and laughed. Nobody ever expects quiet little me to say much of anything.

And there's my really long ramble for tonight, folks!

Blinkie Shoes...and how they're evil

It was a boring, non-stormy, uneventful evening. The kid was all snuggled in bed, the cat was lazing in the kitchen, all was quiet. About 2 am I decide to call it a night. I was tired, for once, and bored out of my mind.

Earlier that day, the kid got new flashy shoes. The kind that light up when the kids walk and seem to bring them immense amount of joy. They're a must-have, else they'll get laughed right off that pre-school playground. As a parent, it was my duty to make sure she had those specific Tinkerbell light-up/headache inducing shoes.

As I'm thinking about how annoyingly expensive it is for a kid to be 'cool', I'm slowly going around the house, turning the lights off one by one. I head for the last bathroom run of the night, as Chuck passes me in the hallway to go to the bedroom.

I finish up getting ready for bed, exit the bathroom, and blindly proceed to the hallway. *THUMP* < From my living room. Let me say right now, we had a HUGE livingroom window, with a door that led to the balcony that had been proven by my brother that it could indeed be scaled from the outside. My blood runs cold as I freeze. I can't even breathe. All I can do is slowly turn my head toward where the sound came from, when...

*THUMP* ... *Flashy-flashy-flashy-flash* I screamed for all I was worth. I don't know if I thought those little red lights were aliens, or a massive bulked up burglar with a gun and his own set of blinky shoes, but I tell ya I was terrified. Petrified, even. If I hadn't of just used the bathroom, well, the rest should be able to go unsaid.

For the record; I scream like a man. There is nothing girly about my scream. It's a guttural "OMFG I'M GOING TO DIE" scream. It's not a time to go for cutesy, I tell ya!

In reply, however, I hear a high-pitched feminine scream. I run for the light. As it (the light, of course) illuminates part of the living room, I see a full-grown hairy man, white as a ghost, Tinkerbell blinkie shoes in hand. "Chuck! WTF are you doing???"

"I'm checking out the shoes!!" He replies. "Why in the hell did you scream?"

My sheer terror turns into sheer annoyance at this point. I'm trying to calm myself instead of going with natures instinct: Tear the face off the thing that just paralyzed you, now that you have mobility back. I explain to him that I thought he had went to bed, so I didn't expect him to be playing with blinkie shoes in the middle of the dark livingroom at 2 am. His reply to me?

"Oh. I thought you seen a ghost behind me, YOU scared the crap out of ME!"

My mom's response for the entire thing? ... "MUAhahahahahahahaha!"

And that, my friends, is why blinkie shoes are evil.