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.