Blog For Free!
Archives
Home
2005 October
2005 June
2005 May
2005 April
2005 March
2005 February
2005 January
2004 December
2004 November
2004 October
2004 September
2004 August
2004 July
2004 June
2004 May
2004 April
2004 March
2004 February
2004 January
My Links
now.org
Teaching Tolerance
Human Rights Campaign
Mother Jones
dafridge
Strindberg and Helium
Sacreligious fun!
Shimmer's blog
SistersTalk Blog
Jesus' General
Clack
Blondesense
What She Said
Alas, a blog
Gay Forum
Pinko Feminist Hellcat
Gay Rights Watch
Crooks and Liars
tBlog
My Profile
Send tMail
My tFriends
My Images
Sponsored
Blog
|
| moving on |
| 05.12.04 (10:51 am) [edit] |
A friend of mine from high school called and left me a message this week. The message just said she had been thinking about me and wanted to see how I was. She had apparently called my mother to get my phone number. Sounds harmless enough, but for some reason, I don't want to call her back. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to.
I haven't seen or talked to her in at least 10 years, although we were very close at one point. We never had a falling out or anything like that. We just sort of developed different interests and lost touch. She's really sweet.
Maybe that's part of the problem. She's too sweet. I'm no maniac or anything but girls who are too wholesome (or maybe uptight is the word I'm looking for) get on my nerves. They always look at me like I'm really strange. Or else they say something totally self righteous or condescending or even offensive and I look at them like [u]they[/u] are really strange. I feel like I have come such a long way in overcoming my religious upbringing and learning to think for myself and being honest with myself about who/what I am. I feel like I'm a different person now than I was when I knew her. And I'm proud of that. So, even though I should probably give her the benefit of the doubt, I'm not sure if I want to.
See........ she's a school teacher, she wears seasonal sweaters, she takes her kids to church, she really wants to find a man, she doesn't drink or smoke or curse--you know what I mean. She's a "good girl". Always was. She doesn't know that I'm a lesbian, that I have tattoos, that I love tequila and pain pills (although I use these only in moderation and not usually at the same time), and that I don't attend church or believe that the Bible is true. I don't know if she can handle it. Maybe it's discriminatory on my part to assume how she feels when I haven't actually talked to her in so long. Or maybe I just don't want to set myself up for a painful situation.
Ever had a friend who found Jesus and then started telling you they were worried about your "lifestyle" and that they were praying for you? Ugh. I can't think of anything more insulting. Anyway, I'm just not sure if I want to open that can of worms. Sometimes it's better to store old memories and just move on..........
|
|
|
| |
| Quote of the day |
| 05.10.04 (9:11 am) [edit] |
My grandmother Juanita, when she meant to say "I agree with you" or "I heard about that" or "I know", would say instead
"I saw that same movie."
She had a lot of quirky sayings like that. For some reason, this one in particular just cracks me up.
|
|
|
| |
| Mother |
| 05.09.04 (7:53 pm) [edit] |
|
I love my mother. I really do. Even if we don't really get each other and even if our "don't ask/don't tell" policy prevents her from knowing everything about me and my life. I think she's been disappointed in me in some ways; but to her credit, she doesn't try to pry into my business. And she's always sweet to me, if not actually supportive. I hope some of the things I inherit from her are her love for and loyalty to family, her kindness, her culinary skills, and her playful nature. I already have her eyes.
|
|
|
| |
| doubts |
| 05.04.04 (10:04 am) [edit] |
Do you ever wonder if you really know what the hell you're doing? Am I really an adult? A professional?
I had to go to court today to testify on behalf of one of my (mentally ill) clients. I haven't had a lot of personal experience with the criminal justice system, so the courtroom can be pretty intimidating to me. And the attorneys always surprise you by asking you questions they had promised not to ask before you took the stand. For instance, if you say "I can testify to whether she is compliant with treatment and whether her symptoms are stable, but I have NO opinion regarding whether she should be given custody of her children. I'm not a parenting expert. That's not part of my job. The parent is my client, not the child. My focus is keeping my client stable on her medications. I've never seen the child. I've never seen her interact with the child., etc.", the first thing the attorney will ask is "In your opinion, is the client capable of caring for her child and do you think she should be allowed to regain custody?" So you have to be able to formulate an answer that sounds professional on the spot. I don't get rattled very easily, at least on the outside, but that doesn't mean that I'm not totally freaking out on the inside. I guess today stressed me out a little, although I think it turned out well in the end.
I started thinking about how sometimes I don't feel my age. I mean, I guess I thought I'd be more mature by now. I'm the mother of a teenager, for God's sake. A psychotherapist. A supervisor at work. But I just don't feel like I'm old enough to be this old.
As a mother, I'm totally winging it. I listen to Garbage, the Cure, Jimmy Eat World, Outkast. My kids borrow CD's from me. I have tattoos. Don't get me wrong, I do all the mother things I'm supposed to do, like cooking and cleaning and checking homework (okay, I don't really check their homework unless they have a specific question). But, I'm a little disorganized. I'm the kind of mother who realizes on the morning of the field trip that the kids need a sack lunch, so I stop by the gas station on the way to school and buy pre-made sandwiches and bags of chips. I'm not a PTO mom. I wear cargo pants, not boutique-wear. My teenager thinks I'm crazy. When she goes somewhere with a friend, I'll say things (with a laugh) like "No smoking pot! No making out under the bleachers!" She just laughs and rolls her eyes.
And at work, I can't believe that I'm anyone's supervisor. What do I know?
Lucky for me, I fake it well.
|
|
|
| |
|
|
