Monday, September 12, 2016

Today's drivel

ME TO ADAM: Sweetie, you are not Macho Camacho.

ADAM: Do you even know who that is?

ME: Wrestler, motherfucker.

ADAM: Boxer. But close.

Rolling around Facebook: Have you ever?

Been Married--Yes
Been divorced-- No
Fell in love-- Yes
Gone on a blind date-- Yes
Skipped school-- Yes
Watched someone give birth-- Yep. Me!
Watched someone die-- Yes
Been to Canada-- Yes
Ridden in an ambulance-- No
Been to Hawaii-- Yes
Been to Europe-- Yes
Been to Washington D.C.-- Yes
Been to Nashville-- Not yet
Visited Florida-- Yes
Visited Mexico-- Yes
Seen Grand Canyon in person-- No
Flown in a helicopter-- No
Been on a cruise-- No
Served on a jury--No
Been in a movie-- No
Danced in the rain-- I was probably very drunk.
Been to Los Angeles-- Yes
Been to New York City--Yes
Played/Sang in a band-- No
Sang karaoke-- Yes
Laughed so much you cried-- Yes
Laughed so hard you peed-- Only when I was pregnant
Caught a snowflake on your tongue -- What do I look like, a character in a 1950s movie?
Had kids - I think so, yes.
Had a pet(s)-- Yes
Been sledding on a big hill- Nope
Been downhill skiing-- Hell no!
Been water skiing-- Hell NO!
Rode on a motorcycle-- Yep. Driven one, even.
Traveled to all 50 states-- No
Jumped out of a plane-- Please. I'm Jewish.
Been to a drive-in movie-- Yes
Rode a camel -- Is Adam's name Camel?
Rode a Horse-- Yes
Been on TV -- Maybe?
Been in the newspaper-- Yes
Stayed in the Hospital-- Yes
Donated blood-- Yes
Gotten a piercing-- Yes
Gotten a tattoo-- No
Driven a stick shift vehicle -- Yes!
Been scuba diving -- Nope
Been snorkeling-- No
Rode in the back of a police car-- No
Got a speeding ticket-- And how!
Broken a bone-- Nope.
Gotten stitches-- I almost said no, then I remembered ... why yes, I have.
Traveled Alone--Yes!
Shot 59 in golf-- No

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Then and now

There is a certain tired and glowing radiance to a new parent. A year later, there is the joy of familiarity, the continual building of a lifelong connection.

I was once given a present and told you would never get this for yourself, so I got it for you. I feel the same about my son.

Monday, September 5, 2016

This morning

ME: But that's what brought us together, isn't it? The fact that you told me stuff?
ADAM (without looking up from his breakfast): The fact that you've got rockin' knockers.

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Latest writing

Sitting in the passenger seat of Tina’s third-hand Civic, I went off on myself, thinking about what I should have done rather than running away. I should’ve busted it up, thrown down demands and maybe a leg or two from the gone-but-not-forgotten pig.

If I couldn’t do it for myself, I should have done it for Brat. I hadn’t even told him goodbye before I bailed. My stomach ached thinking about that kid. He was so damn innocent, so subject to whatever Nails and Rooster – and now, to some degree, Bill – wanted to put him through. After he was born, I would watch him on the changing table as Nails wrangled with his diaper. Something about his little naked legs in the air did something to me. He was helpless in the truest sense of the word, doomed to go along with whoever and whatever had brought him into this world.

I never wanted kids. Ever. I couldn’t stand the idea of fucking them up the way that Nails and Rooster had – that is, royally. I couldn’t take the thought that anyone would be dependent on me the way I was on them. I couldn’t imagine failing a trusting heart the way my parents had failed mine.

Or Brat’s. Don’t forget about your brother. The one you abandoned.

But what could I do?

What, indeed, could I ever do?

My mother caught me out before I left. Oh, she caught me, and caught me hard. She found me in the room that used to be mine and was now hers. Me, I alternated between sleeping in Brat’s room and on the floor in her supposed office. She never used it.

I was sitting on my former bed. It was a super old-fashioned canopy, the poles slightly bent and swaying with the slightest nearby motion, draped with a pastel cover that my mother hated and I loved. Well, fuck her. It wasn’t hers. At least, it wasn’t then.

It was now.

Loss takes so many forms. It can be as complete as your family or as half-assed as a simple bed. But does it really matter? Hell, a Google search can break your heart.