Gone To The Crazies

I found myself thinking today about the ages of my kids. Both are well into child-having years. It's kind of rare, at least from what I see, that 25 and 23 year olds don't have kids these days. Naturally, that made me start thinking about what kind of grandmother I'd be. Ouch.

I decided to start by thinking about how grown-ups relate to me. Generally, I think people see me as a nice person. I have an awesome family and we're all really close. I'm very social; running around here and there, meeting friends for dinner or drinks or cultural events. I am recently coming out of a two-year relationship that ended amicably and we still see each other. I'm also your basic working woman who just got a promotion. I try to stay healthy by watching what I eat and walking almost everywhere. I have a handful of close friends that I like to hang with when I have free time and neither of us are doing anything else. I love music and perpetually have an ipod with me. I love reading, writing, and word games. I often try to sing the scale like I used to, and get incredibly frustrated. I know what's funny and can find humor in almost every situation. But then, there's that quiet part of me that includes a man that's burrowed himself in my heart in such a way that even though he's been gone from our lives for almost 20 years, I miss him every day.

If there's someone in need and I'm in a postion to help, I will. I volunteer at a Grieving Center because I think it's important that children have a place to go when someone in their family dies and they're having trouble dealing. In fact, my job revolves around helping senior citizens. With all that said, people come to me a lot for advice on what would be appropriate in any given situation because they know I always try to do the right thing. When I give that advice, I'm always brutally honest. That's exactly why people seek me out; they know that I'm going to tell it like it is and not sugar-coat anything. They come to me for advice on everything from their job to relationships. The process normally starts with a detailed accounting of their issue and ends with, "what do you think I should do?" See folks, I appreciate this question because what I would do may be totally different than what I think they should do. Most of the time, I wonder what the fuck they're doing in this situation in the first place. But I give my honest opinion of what I think they should do, and tell them why. I really don't expect people to do what I think is right all the time, and after I give them my advice I tell them to please do whatever is right for them, not me. Sometimes, I have to apologize because I've just told them they're acting like a moron, or that their self-esteem seems to be on vacation, or they're burning professional bridges.

I really don't like hurting peoples' feelings. But damn it, people do stupid shit. Seriously, why would someone let their boyfriend get away with farting on her because he thinks it's funny, even though she feels humiliated? Why does another adamantly refuse to get to work on time and then be perpetually worried about getting fired because of it? Why does a nice guy, who already has a nice girl who really cares about him, constantly cry about some skank who isn't calling him? Can anyone tell me if these are acceptable behaviors? Who drinks so much alcohol on their birthday that they finally admit that they might die and head to the emergency room 24 hours later? Oh wait, that last one is me.

What I'm trying to say is, when they ask me about situations like this, you better believe I tell it like it is. Here are a few examples. The farting response went something like, "you moved in with a guy who farted on you before you even moved in together. You picked him, now either move out, kick him out, or quit crying." Any professional advice would involve, "quit bitching and get another job where you make more money/have a better boss/can come in whenever you damn well please." When asked if I thought there was a good reason why the skank wasn't calling back, my response was, "you're 34 and would be too scared to introduce that stripper to your parents anyway. Now call Jane Doe. She's really cool, but I'm convinced she might be a little retarded for fucking with the likes of YOU."

Oh, and as for the birthday drunk, you would think that's a perfect example of why these people SHOULDN'T come to me for advice.

I thought about all these things because, remember, I was still trying to figure out what kind of grandma I'd be. Once I realized how adults saw me, it allowed me to know how my grandkids would see me. Now, kids always see you to the nth power. If you're a basically nice person, kids see you as Snow White. If you interact and play with them, they see you as Minnie Mouse. If you're stern, they see you as the Wicked Witch. And if you just say shit to a mother fucker that needs to hear it, well then... you're a lunatic.

All the normality, generosity, love and honesty just can't erase the fact that I'm going to be the drunk lunatic grandma. My poor, poor grandchildren.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Have you ever realized that you needed to make a change in your life? You know, a change like ending a friendship, getting a new job, or even updating your wardrobe? Every once in a while, we need to do this. It keeps us renewed, replenished and just simply aware of what's going on in our own lives. I decided it's time to make a change, and this is how I come upon this realization.

A co-worker asked me if I'd like to join a few others in drinks after work. I love a good happy hour so I readily agreed. The evening started out simply enough with cocktails celebrating the new Sex and The City movie. They had four signature cocktails inspired by the movie and although I didn't want to try all of them, I certainly was happy to sample a couple of them. And sample I did.

At last count, I had drank five cocktails. Mind you, I lost count at this point and you can bet I probably had more than those five. Two of the others had left and it was just me and the co-worker that had extended the invitation. We made our way over to another spot with drink specials. My memory at this point just stops and I have absolutely no recollection of what happened at the second spot. It returns later in the evening with me standing by the side of the road waiting for the bus. Of course, that bus wasn't coming. It was well after 1am, and they stop running at 12:30am.

I remember sitting to collect my thoughts and see several cabs drive by. That's it! I'll get a cab. My only other option is to walk up the hill, which is the only way for me to get home. There is no way I can navigate the high-grade, extremely winding road. I run across the street where I see the cabs coming from. A car halts directly in front of me.

Two men are in the car and they ask me if I need a ride. I say no, I'm going to get a cab. Apparently, I was quite intoxicated because they continued to ask me if I wanted a ride, even if just to the cab-stand. Once again, I decline. These two gentleman spoke to me in thick Russian accents. I had no idea who they are and I briefly imagine my own death at their hands. I start to walk away when one of them tells me they are genuinely concerned for my well-being. I finally accept.

They give me a ride home, which takes less than five minutes. I ask them to stop at an ATM so I can at least give them some cash for the ride. They do that, I give them $10, I go inside and presumably, they go home. In the morning, I awake to text messages from my co-worker asking me if I made it home alright, am I alive, and "way to disappear". I had no idea what she was talking about. A week or so later, she asked me to meet her at the second spot again, and I had to ask a friend where it was. Despite me being there for a few hours before, I had absolutely no idea where it was.

Folks, this was not good. I drank to excess, so much so that I don't remember a large block of time. I accepted a ride with complete strangers. I'm no spring chicken, I'm a woman by all definitions. But clearly, alcohol wasn't doing me any good. I knew I had to cut down drastically.

Since then, I've gone to plenty of happy hours. But I stop at my four-drink maximum. If I'm with VERY good friends, or my boyfriend, I pay less attention to this number. But when I'm with co-workers or acquaintances, I stick to it with a vengeance. I can't trust myself so I set limits and stick to them. I was told recently that I don't have an addictive personality and I thank heaven for that.

I realized I needed to make a change, and I made it. If I can do inventory on my own life from time to time, or even if something hits me like a ton of bricks, I know I can act accordingly and straighten myself out. Can you?

Weeding the Garden

Yesterday, I got a message on one of those social networking sites. It was from the daughter of a girl with whom I'd gone to high school. I was excited, because I had done a couple google searches of her name but never found anything. We had only gone to high school together for a year before my parents moved me across the country. We remained in touch throughout the years, but lost touch probably within the last 11 years.

Prior to this message, I found another old work chum on that same social networking site. She and I had formed a strong friendship over a period of several years. She ended up moving to another state and then so did I. When I did find her and we reconnected, I was excited that I had my old friend back.

Now that I've moved into adulthood and met new people, I recently started thinking about the people who are in my life for no particular reason. We may share texts, or emails, or maybe even a lunch or dinner together. But they're not really a friend that I'd count on if I ever needed anything, or vice versa. So what do I do with these people?

I slowly began to realize that I needed to start weeding out the people that are not essential to my life. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I am only getting rid of people that don't benefit ME somehow. It's mutual really. An example would be men who I dated before. I have a boyfriend, who I'm content with. They have wives or girlfriends, or maybe not, and at this point it's just not appropriate for us to be sending frivolous texts, emails or having meals together. Some are people who I knew in passing when I saw said men and when I do speak with them, it's about events in my past that I'm more than happy to leave in my past. Catch my drift here?

As I thought about these things, and made the decision to weed out certain individuals, I got a call from none other than my ex-husband. Turns out he and his girlfriend were having issues in their relationship and he wanted to talk to me about them. I'm not sure why folks. We were married for over 17 years but the marriage didn't end well and I realized he was a perfect candidate for being weeded out. I had no desire to talk to him about anything at all, much less his relationship problems.

I don't know what made him think it was appropriate for him to consult me, so I can only assume that maybe *I* made him think that. I put an end to it. I asked him to stop calling me, and more importantly, I asked him not to bring me up in any conversations he had with his girlfriend. We have both moved on to other relationships and relying on each other for anything is not necessary. Some of you may think that because he spent so much time with me, he felt that he could count on me to tell him the truth, or understand where he was coming from. Well, that's true. And because he can count on me to tell him the truth, I told him I didn't want him in my life anymore, nor did I want to be in his life. This wasn't easy for me. There was a time when we had been in love, worked out problems together, and consulted each other on major life decisions. But we had grown up, he had become an addict, and it changed everything between us. Where there was once trust and love, there was now suspicion and disdain.

This first weed-pull was especially hard. It forced me to see my life as it is now, as opposed to how it was just three years ago. Moving forward requires logical thinking with little to no emotional consideration. It's a whole new world for me. One weed down, so many more to go.