Is it ok to be lame if you know you are? I was late to work today b/c I couldn’t decide what shoes to wear. I seriously have a problem. Maybe the problem has nothing to do with my shoes though. Maybe it’s just the pants. What do you wear with burgundy corduroys anyway? Geez. People who only have 2 pair of shoes don’t have this problem. When you don’t have variety decisions are so much easier. Course most people with variety aren’t nearly as anal retentive as I am so they don’t seem to have this problem either. Blasted obsessive compulsive tendencies…
I had a real blog started, about one of my favorite songs this week. But I realized while writing it, that I’m still digesting the song. So I can’t write about it yet. I had a good time at the Halloween party Friday even though no one really showed. I actually think I enjoyed it more b/c no one showed. Sometimes I hate large groups of people. I’m more of a small group sort of person I guess. Going to see Glen Phillips tomorrow night. It’s a small venue so it looks to be a good show. (As if there was any doubt…)
I’ve been thinking about family dysfunction lately. We’ve all got it even if we don’t want to admit it. My family is extremely close. Maybe abnormally so, but who really determines what’s normal anyway? I was thinking about it this weekend. I was out at my mom’s house and we were still sitting around in our pajamas reading books around noon when someone knocked on the door. It was the woman who lives across the street from my Grama’s. My mom was in the kitchen and the woman was speaking in hushed tones so I didn’t know what was going on. Mom called me in and asked me if I heard what she’d said, so when I got in the kitchen, my mom had this blank sick look on her face. I guess this neighbor had been watching out her window and saw my uncle sitting in his trunk. He’d been there for hours, and she thought it was still running. This uncle is an extreme alcoholic. I know that I rarely ever see him sober. Most of the time he’s falling down drunk, or I’m hearing stories about how mean he is coming to my grama’s house drunk. My grama was in Kentucky visiting family, so no one was home and the neighbor didn’t know where to go. To put it straight, she thought he was in his truck dead and didn’t know who to call. My mom calmly changed clothes, got in the car and drove over. All I could think was that my mom had already been the one to find another brother dead only that one from a supposed suicide by gunshot wound. I offered to go with her, but my little sister was outside playing with the neighbor girls so someone needed to stay there. I was just sick, and all I could do was pray. My mom came back about 10 minutes later, apparently he’d gotten home so drunk he couldn’t walk. So he’d taken off his shoes and went to sleep in his truck with the radio on. Mom made him go inside, and then drove back home. He had no idea how sick she was. She came back just white, and said that it had really scared her. Then changed the subject. The thought has crossed everyone’s mind in the family though. How he’s still living as it is, I don’t know. To be honest, I was more worried about my mom finding him dead, than him actually being dead. I know that alcoholism is a disease, but this is something my mom’s family has tried again and again to help him with. He’s been checked into numerous facilities, and the outcome is always the same. I wonder what causes some families to fall prey to this sort of dysfunction. Maybe it’s more normal than I think. Out of my grama’s 7 remaining surviving children, 2 of the 3 boys are alcoholics, and 3 of the 4 girls are married to alcoholics, with only one of those being a recovering alcoholic. Yet, they are one of the closest families I’ve ever seen. Any excuse to get together they take advantage of. 5 of the 7 still live in 2 adjacent counties. I guess every family has their problems, it’s just how well they choose to hide them I suppose. I don’t know why I’m writing about this, I certainly don’t know how to fix it or help it, I guess I just want to keep myself aware. When you allow yourself to forget, the pain starts to ebb. Avoidance only builds denial though. This is what happens when I just follow train of thought. It’s who my family is though. And I love them.
Maybe this became a real blog after all.
I had a real blog started, about one of my favorite songs this week. But I realized while writing it, that I’m still digesting the song. So I can’t write about it yet. I had a good time at the Halloween party Friday even though no one really showed. I actually think I enjoyed it more b/c no one showed. Sometimes I hate large groups of people. I’m more of a small group sort of person I guess. Going to see Glen Phillips tomorrow night. It’s a small venue so it looks to be a good show. (As if there was any doubt…)
I’ve been thinking about family dysfunction lately. We’ve all got it even if we don’t want to admit it. My family is extremely close. Maybe abnormally so, but who really determines what’s normal anyway? I was thinking about it this weekend. I was out at my mom’s house and we were still sitting around in our pajamas reading books around noon when someone knocked on the door. It was the woman who lives across the street from my Grama’s. My mom was in the kitchen and the woman was speaking in hushed tones so I didn’t know what was going on. Mom called me in and asked me if I heard what she’d said, so when I got in the kitchen, my mom had this blank sick look on her face. I guess this neighbor had been watching out her window and saw my uncle sitting in his trunk. He’d been there for hours, and she thought it was still running. This uncle is an extreme alcoholic. I know that I rarely ever see him sober. Most of the time he’s falling down drunk, or I’m hearing stories about how mean he is coming to my grama’s house drunk. My grama was in Kentucky visiting family, so no one was home and the neighbor didn’t know where to go. To put it straight, she thought he was in his truck dead and didn’t know who to call. My mom calmly changed clothes, got in the car and drove over. All I could think was that my mom had already been the one to find another brother dead only that one from a supposed suicide by gunshot wound. I offered to go with her, but my little sister was outside playing with the neighbor girls so someone needed to stay there. I was just sick, and all I could do was pray. My mom came back about 10 minutes later, apparently he’d gotten home so drunk he couldn’t walk. So he’d taken off his shoes and went to sleep in his truck with the radio on. Mom made him go inside, and then drove back home. He had no idea how sick she was. She came back just white, and said that it had really scared her. Then changed the subject. The thought has crossed everyone’s mind in the family though. How he’s still living as it is, I don’t know. To be honest, I was more worried about my mom finding him dead, than him actually being dead. I know that alcoholism is a disease, but this is something my mom’s family has tried again and again to help him with. He’s been checked into numerous facilities, and the outcome is always the same. I wonder what causes some families to fall prey to this sort of dysfunction. Maybe it’s more normal than I think. Out of my grama’s 7 remaining surviving children, 2 of the 3 boys are alcoholics, and 3 of the 4 girls are married to alcoholics, with only one of those being a recovering alcoholic. Yet, they are one of the closest families I’ve ever seen. Any excuse to get together they take advantage of. 5 of the 7 still live in 2 adjacent counties. I guess every family has their problems, it’s just how well they choose to hide them I suppose. I don’t know why I’m writing about this, I certainly don’t know how to fix it or help it, I guess I just want to keep myself aware. When you allow yourself to forget, the pain starts to ebb. Avoidance only builds denial though. This is what happens when I just follow train of thought. It’s who my family is though. And I love them.
Maybe this became a real blog after all.
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