Moment of Peace

Back to the Best of 2009 Challenge!

December 8th, Moment of Peace

My moment of peace came through this blog, so thank you to all of you!

For the past year or so, I've been mentally exhausted due to all the questions about babies and when they're showing up on our doorstep (by a stork of course).  So one day, I finally gathered up my courage and went on a rant about why people won't just leave me the F alone. 

To my surprise, I learned that I am not the only woman in the world who doesn't piss her pants around babies.  I'm not the only woman in the world who hasn't known she wants to be a mother since day one.  I am not the only woman in the world who likes being able to go out to lunch/shopping/wherever and carry a purse, instead of a diaper bag. 

That blog received so much positive attention and so many great, insightful comments.  Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.  It's really nice to know that I'm not crazy. 

That is why I enjoy hearing from people who read this blog.  I can rant about some random, crazy shit...and you all remind me that it's ok.  Thanks for putting my heart at peace over the baby issue.  Words cannot describe how wonderful it is not have that off my chest and out of my head!

Hours of entertainment, that one

For all those of you out there who have some ridiculously romantic ideas about how "normal,"  "well-adjusted" and "unpretentious" your children would be if you could just raise them in the country...this blog is for you. 

Meet my husband (or, in this case, Exhibit A)

In fact, this photo may explain the upcoming story.

My husband was raised in a rural area outside of Peoria.  Not nearly as rural as Ridgetopia, but rural nonetheless.  (Yes, that was a sentence fragment.  Don't think I missed it.)  One would think, even growing up in a "country" environment, he would be wise to the ways of standard shipping practices.  You would be wrong.  Must be that fresh country air. 

Last week, we missed a scheduled delivery from FedEx.  We got one of those annoying sign-the doorknocker-and-retape (because some of us cannot properly read the instructions and have already broken the tape)-to-your-door-we'll-be-back-tomorrow-hope-it's-not-raining-thankssomuch-FedEx deals.  Fanfreakingtastic.  And it was raining the next day...and we were scheduled to be out of town.  AWESOME!

The package was a Christmas present for me so, naturally, I was trying my hardest:

1. Not to open it and retape it before Adam got home

2. To restrain myself from googling/reverse whitepage searching the mysterious return address

3. To make sure when it DID arrive, it was taken care of and not damaged by Mother Nature's bitchy tricks. 

I called Adam to explain that we'd missed the package but FedEx would bring it back the next day.  There was a long pause...and then my normally common sensical husband proved legions of teachers wrong by asking what is certainly deemed a stupid question (like Santa....they DO exist!). 

Adam: So...does UPS deliver FedEx?

Me: (Long pause) (Hysterical laughter) WHAT?

Adam: Ok, asshole, I know they are 2 different companies...but does the UPS man ever deliver packages for FedEx?

Me: (More hysterical, silent teared, laughing)

Adam: (Hangs up)

He later informed me that he is "not a moron," it's just that he's never SEEN the FedEx man...so he couldn't be sure if he really exists. 

You know, kind of like how we keep getting new Tupac songs?

But back to that "fresh country air."  I wouldn't put too much faith in it, yuppie-moms-to-be.  Look what it can do to adults (Exhibit B):

Let's see how long this lasts...

Best of 2009 Blog Challenge

I heard about this idea from my girl over at Hilarity Ensues and I think it's pretty cool.  Plus, this way I won't have to stay up all night thinking about how many days of bad luck I've added up by not filling out email Christmas surveys.

The basic idea is to blog on a different topic for each day of December, recounting the best (fill in the blank) of 2009.  Like D., I also am psyched to not have to think about things to write about on my own...not that Adam leaves me in short supply...

December 7th: Best Blog (you didn't know you were missing) of 2009
Since it would be rude to nominate myself and all my awesomeness...damn.  I'll go with author Jen Lancaster's blog Jennsylvania.  She started out as an unemployed ex-sorostitute, emailing her friends about the trials and tribulations of finding a new job...and ended up becoming an author.  She loves Twilight, cats and shoes...no wonder it's also Adam's favorite blog!  (Just kidding...in case you couldn't tell.  He barely knows what a blog is.)  My favorite post so far this year is Taylor, Show Me on the Doll Where the Bad Cougar Touched You.

Hope my pipes don't bust!

I try to avoid making comments that could be considered sexist/stereotypical.  But, in my experience, in the event of a plumbing problem, a woman will call a plumber 10x over before a man even admits he can't fix it. 

Which brings me to my next point.  Why would you create a logo that will most likey offend, irritate or disgust your target audience? 

I don't consider myself a prude, but that is truly disgusting.  I will never hire them just because of that logo.  There are so many jokes you could make about plumbers that don't have to be nasty.  Heck, you could even talk about plumber's crack and it would be less disgusting than talking about your "wet spot." 

Who DOES that?  Side note:  this van was spotted in Pekin.  That does not surprise me. 

Goofy Ridge Karaokee

Karaokee can be fun and entertaining...but in Goofy Ridge it's all of the above, x10. 

Normally it's actually something I refer to as "scary-okee" because it involves topless lesbians butchering Faith Hill's top hits...at a bar that looks like a double-wide.  Don't worry though, there's a handicapped ramp....because if there's anything Goofy Ridge is, it's inclusive.  Unless you're a minority.

This weekend, however, I heard versions of the classics that were so fantastic I had to share.
You are probably all familiar with the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight, but I bet you did not know the lyrics are as follows (I certainly didn't):
In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
My weiner's wet, my weiner's wet
My weiner's wet, my weiner's wet

Or perhaps you might remember The Monkees' hit "I'm a Believer."   Recognize these lines?
Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer
Not a trace, of doubt in my mind
I'm in love, Oh, I'm a believer!
I couldn't eat her if I tried

I started wondering if Goofy Ridge had its own XM satellite radio station, what it might be called.  
Meth Metal Mania?
Horses, Hillbillies and Hank Williams Jr.?
Soul Survivor...of Kissin' Cousins?

You just never know around here. 

It's not over til it's over. Seriously.

Just when you think you've got things all figured out, God reminds you that you are sorely mistaken.  If you're lucky, you can laugh about it later.

I honest-to-God thought that people were over the whole I "don't work" thing.  Really, I did. 

I mean...I'm over actually caring what people think/say about it.  It's been 7 months.  It's not new information.  I don't have a 9-5, whoop dee doo. It works for me, it works for my husband, it works for my family.  Really, it does.

I no longer feel the need to explain what I "do all day" or why I quit PJS.  It's none of your business.  Really, it's not.

With that being said, I do notice when people STILL make comments.  Maybe more so than before, since they're less frequent and less intentionally hurtful and/or nosy.  Mostly, these comments make me wonder what Adam thinks.  I often relay the stupid comments to him over dinner, but he never says anything.  Not a word.  I started to wonder if maybe the reason he didn't say anything was that he'd changed his mind and wanted me to go back to the paper every day.  Then I really started freaking out.  I don't care what anyone thinks...except my husband...and if he's upset about it, then we have a real problem.  Really, we do.

When I asked him why he doesn't comment, he got pretty upset.  He said he thinks those people are stupid and it actually hurts his feelings too because people are saying mean things to his wife, and even though we both know they are untrue and ridiculous, it's still hurtful for him to hear that they're hurting me.  He said he's tired of having to explain and/or justify our personal decisions and thinks it's absolutely outrageous that people actually want justification.  We don't ask anyone to explain why they go back to work after having children, or why they don't.  We don't ask people why they purchase a specific vehicle or why they live in a certain area.  We just assume they made the decision that works best for their family, and that it's none of our business.  He said he didn't realize our decision would be so controversial that it would warrant people feeling that they actually had a right to question it.  Lastly, he said he is sick and tired of people not realizing that it's rude and disrespectful to BOTH of us, not just me, to make these comments.  I thought it was pretty sweet for him to stick up for me!  So the next time you have an ignorant/seemingly innocent (depending on who you ask) comment, I have one thing to say to you:  Really, fuck off!

I'm 27, yipee-ki-yay.

If anyone wonders why it's sometimes 2-3 weeks between blogs, it isn't because I don't write.  I write a lot of things that never get posted.  Sometimes because they're inappropriate, sometimes because I don't even mean them--I just need to get something off my chest.  But sometimes, despite my doubts, I actually do publish them.  This is one of those blogs.

Yesterday was my 27th birthday. 

I LOVE birthdays.  Especially MY birthday.  Now Christmas is my "favorite" holiday.  It has its own songs, decorations, food and drinks, church services and celebration in general.  If my birthday had its own songs, decor, food and drinks, it would be my favorite holiday instead.  Also, it's a little more PC to say Christmas is your favorite than admitting that really your birthday is the best.  :)

I don't understand people who don't like their birthday.  Well, I should say I didn't understand.  Normally my thought process regarding birthdays goes a little something like this: it's the ONE day every year when it's all about YOU and no one can call you selfish or arrogant for thinking so.  Who doesn't love that?!

Then yesterday rolled around. 

Adam woke me up and wanted to give me one of my gifts.  I was really excited, so I scrambled around for my contacts, ran into the living room and waited.  He hands me an envelope.  All I could think is..."what kind of present fits into an envelope?  It better not be a gift card!"  Inside the envelope were 4 deer permits.  DEER PERMITS!  Was this a joke?  Does he really think we're going to start some new kind of "couples activity," hunting together?  I don't have a gun, a FOID card, a hunting license, hunting clothes...or, most importantly, ANY DESIRE TO HUNT ANIMALS.  My confusion and disillusionment must have been written all over my face because Adam was cracking up by this point. 

He meant it as a joke.  When he signed me up (for land owner's permits and regular permits), he intended to use my tags in addition to his own (call the game warden!)...only he quickly realized 3 things:
1.   The govt. isn't stupid.  Since I don't have a FOID card or license, he can't use my tags and neither can I (as if I wanted to). 
2. Since he signed me up for landowner's permits, I'm going to get those every year from now on, INSTEAD OF HIM because....
3. When he signed me up, it kicked him out of the system for Mason County and he can no longer legally hunt deer in Mason County because it gave me permits instead of him.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

#3 alone made the early wakeup call worth it and then some. 

Unfortunately, he had to go to work right after that. 

It wasn't until he was gone for awhile that I had a major realization.  And not in a good way. 

Like I said, I debated posting this, and truthfully, as I'm typing, I'm still debating. This is intensely personal and the last thing I want is a pity party. But, here goes nothin'.

For some stupid reason, it never hit me how alone I am out here...until yesterday.  I've never EVER, not in my entire life EVER, spent my birthday alone.  I was either in school, with roommates, parents or siblings, or at work w/ my co-workers, who always make a big deal over birthdays since everything else about PJS blows.  Never been sitting at home, alone, with no plans and nothing to do.  Man, that was depressing.  So naturally, I started thinking about the fact that this particular day is really no different than any other day...which only made me feel worse.

Ridge living is a hard life.  And I didn't know it until now.  It doesn't matter how nice your house is, or how much stuff you have in it.  It doesn't matter if you're married, single, working or not working.  Ridge living is a hard life.  There is NOTHING here.  I guess I was always so happy to have a good marriage and finally have friends locally that I never realized how lonely this way of life can be.  Or how dependant my happiness is on having people around me.  How ironic that on the one day of the year when everyone is supposed to be paying attention to me, I feel the most lonely.  PA-thetic! 

To be totally honest, I spent most of the day crying, stopping only for texts, phone calls, cards in the mail and nice birthday FB messages.  Even Dr. Phil had me crying...and you know that's bad, because I love me some Dr. Phil!  So when I say that it really meant a lot for all of you to call, text, send cards and come out for my birthday, please know that it REALLY REALLY meant a lot.  I cannot even verbally express how much.  Thank you. 

Luckily, I did get to go to Grizzly's Mallard Club (if that's not birthday-quality fine dining, I don't know what is!) and have an AWESOME pizza and drinks with our friends.  Even bad days have something worth celebrating.  That's the lesson I learned from all of this. 

Oh, and for those of you who are wondering, Adam did get me an actual gift, not just deer permits.  Tomorrow morning, I am heading to Peoria to Natural Concepts for an "ultimate relaxation" spa package, which includes a 60 minute facial, 90 minute hot stone massage and a pedicure.  I've never had a facial before, so I'm kind of nervous...but mostly really excited! 

Even bad days have something worth celebrating.  Always.