Whenever I hear the song “Let’s go all the way” by E. Sly Fox, I think of my parents. That sounds a lot weirder than it’s intended.
I came home from school one day and sat down at my desk to do my homework. I noticed the desk had been ransacked. Someone had gone through it, and didnt even try to hide it. This was the first time that I realized my parents were assholes. Well, probably not the first time, but this one resonated with me. Still does, to this day.
Anyway…there was a peice of paper in the middle of my desk. It was the song lyrics to Let’s Go All The Way, written in my handwriting. Back then, we didnt have internet lyric sites and google play apps that give you instant lyrics. You literally had to stop your cassette tape and write ot down, sentence by sentence…or listen for it to come on the radio and write as fast as you could. Teenagers these days have it sp much easier in the lyric department. (Hey there, old lady.)
My Mother thought it was a love note. I don’t know to who…it’s not like I had anything close to a boyfriend. That’s the first time I realized my Mother was a bit out of touch. (As all teenagers think their parents are.)
And it wasnt so much that she was out of touch with pop culture, but that she was completely out of touch with my life. I don’t know what possessed her to think that she had the need to go through my things when I wasn’t home. I was a good kid. Not because I was a goody two shoes kid…because, let’s face it, I got into my share of shit and looking back it’s a wonder I survived some of the shit that I pulled…but since we moved just before highschool, I had no life. I had no friends. I woke up, went to school, and came home. I stayed home on weekends. My highschool life? Pretty tame and lame and sad, really. Especially with 2 knee operations in grade 9 that basically nailed the loner aspect. When I was able to go to school I couldnt do stairs so I spent forever sitting in the guidance room doing my work, alone. The only people who ever talked to me were the ones who saw me in there every day from the hallway and wondered what the hell I was in there for every damned day. Yeah, I was a badass!
I never looked through my kid’s rooms. I thought about it a few times, but never did. It wasn’t even because ignorance is bliss. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to know what I would find, I just didn’t feel the need to invade their privacy. I never thought that looking through things that didn’t belong to me would give me a parenting leg up. An advantage for things to come, a way to avoid dangers of the future.
I wasn’t the best mother in the universe, but that’s one thing that I am proud of. And we made it. They’re in their 20’s now and healthy and criminal record free, and happy. Finding scanty song lyrics, or a contraband of some sort wouldnt have changed anything. They could have had dangerous secrets hidden in their private sanctuaries, and maybe they did….but there’s more to parenting than invasion of privacy. You have to do the best you can, and hope to hell it’s the right thing, and have faith in your kids that they know who they are and where they came from.
I’ve wanted to sit down a million times and write posts here and I’m such a loser I never bother to do it.
I want to talk about my amazing summer at the lake, and how I spent the night in a dog kennel to raise money for the Humane society, and how on that night I met my latest love, my little Richard Parker who has been photographed and displayed here. I wanted to talk about femine lady things and how they led to the insertion of an IUD and how that has made the last two plus months of my life pure hell. And about Christmas wonderment. And about feline calicivirus disease and how that has made our last few weeks a living hell, especially for my Richard Parker love. And about love and disappointments and family and so on and so forth.
And home renovations…..and new ideas and excitement over a new season at the lake, soon to be….
….and so on and so forth times a hundred.
And I will. But right now I’m going to eat a ham and cheese sandwich.
It’s funny sometimes, you wake up in the morning and all feels right with the world. Then your day begins and that one tiny thing sets you off on a path of knowledge that today, of days, will not go well for you, or anyone else that is associated with you.
The lack of appreciation that you feel on a regular, if not daily basis, comes in droves. You get to the office and read an email, that is meant to be uplifting and informative, makes you wonder why it wasn’t just called “Ways to kiss the Boss’ ass.” and instead makes you want to punch babies. Disclaimer, it WAS a pretty ass-kissy email. Fuck that at 9am. <—- See what I mean??!
So, here’s to you, sibling in raving lunacy…you are not alone. You are in good company. Mediocre company. Meh, you’re not alone.
I used to love this blog. I still do. I guess that’s why I’ve paid for the domain for years and years, even though I stopped using it a long time ago. I’d worked for hours on end over that layout, the beautiful fall colours and the sunflower background. Agonized over the html that I taught myself how to use and manipulated the code to repopulate the site dynamics the way I wanted them. Maybe that’s why, when it was corrupted and I lost everything, I just never got back into the groove again.
When I first started blogging, I had younger kids and I tried to jump on the mommy blogger bandwagon. I had a bunch of followers, and followed a bunch of bloggers, but as hard as I tried, I was not a Mommy blogger. And I wasnt good at faking it just for the popularity it may or may not bring. I did get some free promo swag out of it though, and that was pretty cool. And, of course, I made some good virtual friends and that’s always a plus.
I’ve tried to get this blog up and running again, here and there. I just havent been able to find a layout that I like and have the patience to work with. I’m hoping this one will cover it. I’m not looking for a following. I’m not looking for internet notoriety. I don’t even expect anyone to read this, really. I just like the idea of getting some thoughts out of my head and throwing them out into the universe.
I also like to look back at archives and see how deep and meaningful my life was in the past. Read: How totally full of shit I am on a regular basis.