What I did over my Christmas vacation….
Ever seen that Chevy Chase movie “Christmas Vacation”? That’s kindof what my past week has been. And if I had not had the emotional security blanket of my mom and dad’s presence during this past week, I would be locked up in a padded room right now. Let me tell you a little tale of woe….
Brad, Sully and I were all going to go back to my hometown in Kansas for the holidays. I LOVE being at my parent’s house. The first thing I usually do is fall asleep on the couch because I’m so comfortable there (sleep isn’t an easy thing for me- but I konk out at the drop of a hat in their house). So I was really excited, and I REALLY needed the break. Weeks of stress, and strife, and making christmas presents, and trip planning, and getting all my ducks in a row was coming to an end- an end that I would lovingly embrace.
The day before we leave, I realize that Sully forgot to take his anti-rage-kid pill. This was the start of a bad trip. If he forgets to take his pill, the next day he’s a TOTAL handful… hyper, and filled with pre-teen angst and belligerent hatred. So I prepared myself for a really rough airport day, put my game face on, and told myself “I can handle it because at the end of our flights, I’ll be safe at my parent’s house”. But yes, the 2 flights and hours at the airports was painful, and filled with much Sully anger. I should have seen this as an omen… but I was too blinded by the thrill of being back in the nest to see the signs.
The day after we got to Kansas was relaxing and uneventful- which lead me to further let my guard down. We picked up our rental car, ran around some with the folks, Sully was picked up by his dad for a few days of quality “father/son time”… and I could breathe.
At around 7am the next morning (which is 5am California time- which my body was still on), my mom pops her head into me and Brad’s room and says “Honey, I have some bad news”. Apparently there was a storm during the night. And a tree fell on our rental car. Now, to look at the rest of my parent’s neighborhood, you would have never known there was a storm… not a single branch or leaf was out of place anywhere else… except on our rental car…. which was smashed to oblivion. Let me illustrate with photos:

Yup.... god smacked us down.
Normally, I get the full insurance package from the rental car place. But I was informed by my personal car insurance provider that rental cars are covered by insurance. What they didn’t tell me was that was after a $500 deductible. Awesomeness. So that day was spent on the phone with the rental car agency, my insurance provider, and the credit card people that I used to rent the car because they cover rental car insurance as well. Hours and hours of figuring the mess out… and hours and hours of waiting for the rental car people to bring me a new car. But I would not give up hope. Things were still going to be good.
The next day, Brad went up to the town we used to live in to see some friends while I hung out with my parents. On his way home, I was talking to him on the phone when he said “Fuck- I’m getting pulled over”. This wouldn’t have been a problem, except that he was speeding, and a couple weeks ago he had lost his drivers licence, and our proof of insurance was at home with me because of all the calls I had to make the previous day. $250 ticket for speeding and driving without a licence (but the cop was nice enough to not tag him for no proof of insurance). So now we’re $750 in the hole, and we’re only 3 days into our vacation.
Should I go on? Because every day after this had some kind of event like this. My dad and I were going to get started on my taxes, but Quickbooks flaked out and I have to re-enter 6 months worth of invoices, bills, banking transactions, and inventory. I ran Sully’s Ipod through the washer and dryer (which his Ipod is the only thing that calms him down when he’s in one of his “I’m dedicated to being an asshole” moods). My parent’s plumbing backed up and caused my poor stressed out mother to have a bit of a breakdown. My older brother got sick and spent days vomiting. I got the flu and spent days with a fever. In the midst of my fever, I had to make multiple trips to my lawyers office to readjust my will and figure out everything that will happen to me and my things when I die (not something you want to deal with when you feel like that moment could go down at any minute). And so on, and so on.
BUT I got to hang out with my family. And if my parents weren’t there through all of it, I really would have totally lost my mind. And I got to hang out with my adorable nephews- who all loved the totally retarded things I made them.
2 Things I did discover while laying on the couch in a fevered state is that: #1. The show “Hey, Paula” is amazing… but not for the reasons they want it to be amazing- but because Paula Abdul is a clueless horrifying diva nightmare who deserves all the trauma that can be thrown at her (they had a marathon on tv, and I watched about 4 hours worth) and #2. Dick Clark is the most terrifying creature that has ever walked the earth. Did anyone else watch the ball drop on TV and see the Dick Clark Zombie? FFFUUUCCCKKK!!!!! That guy is totally going to give me nightmares.
But we got back home this morning. We had to be up at 3:45 in the morning to get the car packed and be to the airport for our 6am flight… and I still haven’t slept. My Daisy kitten has never gone this long without me, and she hasn’t left my side or stopped screaming and crying since I got home. She used to be the asshole of the family, but is now the most lovey and cuddly creature on the planet.
So yes, my holiday vacation was filled with trauma… but at the same time, being home with my family made it all worth it. Thank you, mom and dad, for enduring all of my bullshit. I promise that next year will be less stressful.
I will now leave you with a couple holiday photos:

My nephew Declan in the hat I made him

Sully and I in matching headbands Michelle made us, being totally tough

Me in my headband and with my new vintage PINK phone!!!!!
Birthday Shmirthday…. bla bla bla vomit….
April 3, 2008
Filed under Damnit, I'm really tired.
Tags: birthdays, Degrassi Junior High, holiday hatred
I hate birthdays. I don’t hate other people’s birthdays- those are fun (that is, if I remember them… which I never do). But I hate celebrating my birthday. I also hate holidays (except Halloween- dressing up for candy is always a good time)… but today we’re talking about birthdays. When I lived in Kansas, a bunch of friends and I who all had March/April birthdays would have a big group party… but I enjoyed this because it never fell exactly on my birthday. It was more of a concrete excuse to get all our friends together, and I had a valid reason to get a babysitter. I don’t know exactly why my loathing of holidays and my birthday exists- but every year no matter how much I tell myself “I’m not going to grump out this year”, I always do. It’s a firmly ingrained knee-jerk reaction… and since it only rears it’s ugly head once a year, I’m not going to bother to pick it apart and try to fix it.
Every year, all I ask for is to have a “quiet day”. A day where I can close the doors behind me, not have to do dishes and laundry and house cleaning and litterbox cleaning and child rearing and business calls and webstore updates and inventory and quickbooks and all the daily bullshit that leaves me staring at the ceiling blankly by the end of the day. Just shut the office doors and paint. Or go drive around. Or go for a walk. Simple things. Not-having-to-think things. I just want to be left the fuck alone. Not only is that very little to ask- but it’s the cheapest birthday present on the market. But every year, do I get that? Fuck no. Never. And it makes me that much more jaded and sets me up for more volatile grumpfests on future birthdays.
Yesterday was supposed to be my “quiet birthday” day. It was far from that. 3 days ago I asked Brad to call his parents and reschedule going out to dinner with them for my “birthday dinner” because I knew I wouldn’t be in the mood for socializing. He told me he took care of it. At 9am yesterday morning I had to drive in the most craptastic traffic all the way into downtown LA for Brad to drop off some work stuff for him… an hour and a half each way. When I got home, there was a message on our machine from Brad’s mom telling us the time and place to meet them for the dinner that Brad was supposed to reschedule- but didn’t. After texting Brad and telling him in a not-so-nice-way that me wanting some “alone time” really wasn’t a huge thing to ask for, he responded by telling me that he’d leave me alone. Which meant that he decided to not come home until about 11pm that night… which left me to get Sully from school, fight him on doing his homework, deal with him and his little buddy tearing through the house all afternoon and trying to keep them from getting into my art supplies because they were on an arty-mission, dinner, dishes, taking care of the sick cat, dealing with a Sully-melt-down that lasted an hour and a half because he wanted to stay up an extra half-hour, etc etc etc. Happy fucking birthday, me.
So Brad… if you’re reading this (which he never does), keep in mind for next year… what went down yesterday is NOT what I want for my birthday. I don’t need presents, or a fancy dinner, or flowers, or even a fucking card. All I want is to take the day off from life. If I got that, even once, then MAYBE I wouldn’t be so fucking grumpy the next year when my birthday rolls around.
Though I did get in the mail from my little brother and future-sister-in-law the first season of “Degrassi Junior High” box set- and it is pure amazement. Jeffy and Michelle get an A+ for the day. But Brad, honey… you flunked. But there will be a make-up opportunity next year… so don’t fucking blow it.
January 1, 2009
December 18, 2008








