Thinking that.....

Do I really truly NEED to find a job? Cause afternoon naps are A.W.E.S.O.M.E.

My Weekly Couch Session

So my mom found out I sometimes let Z cuss at home. “That’s just wrong, Regan! You shouldn’t do that. Zane, don’t cuss anymore.” No, what’s wrong is the iron hand she trapped me under until I was like, 30 years old. I said, “Who cares? It’s only at home. He knows not to say them in public. It’s no big deal.”

She then pursed her indignant lips and hissed, “It’s a big deal in God’s eyes!!!!” HA! That’s pretty rich coming from a woman who HAS BEEN MARRIED AND DIVORCED FOUR, I REPEAT FOUR, TIMES!!! I mean, she hasn’t even been to church since the Reagan administration!

I said, “Ma, they don’t say piss or asshole in the Bible. He doesn’t take God’s name in vain.” “So??? That’s just wrong! It’s just wrong.” (Condemning look included in that statement, natch.)

Oh, by the way, DID I MENTION SHE’S BEEN MARRIED AND DIVORCED FOUR, I REPEAT FOUR, TIMES??? Don’t they mention something about staying married in the Bible??? What about stealing? She’s stolen money from me before! (Well, borrowed but never paid back…) And what about murder? We still don’t know what ever happened to husband number 3! (Or was it husband number 4?) Anyhoo, it just pisses me off (yes, it PISSES me off!) that she is still trying to clamp her iron hand down on me. My childhood wasn't that great and my teenage years were even worse – mostly because of her! My kid likes me (most of the time) and seems to enjoy his life. Just cause he says, “Ma, I gotta piss” just to make me laugh once in a while doesn’t make me a bad mom!

Needless to say, dinner didn’t go too well this evening. Although the best part was just after Mother left. Z turned to me and said, “What an asshole.”

*

What Should I Do When I Grow Up?

Most of you know the recent events of my life. But to quickly recap for those who are new:

1. I have a bachelor's degree in communications.


2. I worked for a major construction equipment company in public affairs and made a looot of money.


3. Many of the people I worked with/worked for at said major construction equipment company were complete assholes who found intense pleasure in making the lives of people like me miserable.


4. I was miserable.


5. I got laid off.


6. I'm broke but 300 million times happier now and realize my last four grueling years in the corporate world was my personal lesson in the old saying "money isn't everything!"

I played the game: I got the degree, got a good job, bought a house, a new car...did everything I was "supposed" to do. However, it took away the person I was. I went into Cat a healthy, happy confident mom. I quickly became a grumpy, depressed blob who yelled at her kid too much.

I see this furlough as my second chance in life. I've been considering many options and think it's time I asked everyone for your advice. What should I do now? I'm absolutely open to going back to school but don't want to go longer than 2 years.

As a start, Zane had several suggestions:

1. Ninja


2. Air Force Pilot (he obviously took into consideration my love of flying...)


3. Cargo Boat Captain


4. Chicken (I can do a pretty good chicken cluck, actually)

Oh yeah...anything involving stripping or being topless is off the table. I do have a college degree for Christ's sake!!!

So whaddya think?????

*

Lawn Mowing: The Bain of My Existence

(I’d like to preface this by saying I have the most fabulous neighbors in the world. They help me with my house crises, lend me flour, and don’t call the cops when I’m beating my child.)

I’m a girl so my experience with lawn mowing is pretty minimal. My dad always hired someone to mow his yard, and my mom was usually married so the stepfather-du-jour mowed our lawn. Or the stepfather-du-jour’s son mowed it. Anyhoo, I never had to mow.

When I bought my house four years ago, I was excited –I could paint the walls fuschia, run naked through my new house, listen to my music as loud as I wanted…I loved my newfound property freedom. As my days of home ownership grew, so did the dandelions in my yard…so I carted my happy ass to Lowe’s (cause I had a Lowe’s credit card, natch) to buy a lawn mower. Now, my coworkers INSISTED I not fall prey to the dreaded push mower (“Regan, they are cheaper than self-propelled but JUST SAY NO!”) but they were a LOT cheaper than self-propelled and I thought, what a good workout! I’m buying a push mower!

Fast forward two years. I am the neighbor everyone hates to live next to. It’s not just that I didn’t mow regularly but I am seriously surrounded by Yard Freaks. That’s the best way to describe them. The guy on the right has a riding lawn mower and mows AT LEAST twice a week. The lady on the left will mow in the beginning of summer but then hires someone to mow. She then spends her time manicuring her yard to perfection (yes, she has the spiraled evergreens and everything. Beautiful yard tho!) The guy across the street grew up with the guy on the right and ALSO mows no less than twice a week. (I actually caught him last summer mowing 3 times in one week. Either he has a grass obsession or he’s using mowing to get away from his wife.) Obviously the three of them have “yard issues” but it was okay – the area around my house looked nice, and I kept up with appearances for the most part (i.e., mowed before the city got involved…)

I was finally financially stable enough to hire someone to mow my yard (plus I was ready to throw that damn push mower into the river!) so I didn’t have to think about yard issues for a year and a half. Then I got laid off, and I thought, “Paying someone to mow my lawn is a waste of money when I have a perfectly good mower in my back building!” (I know…famous last words.)
So this year I got my mower tuned up and ready for summer. Granted, I’m not in as good as shape as I was when I bought this place but I thought, “It’s good exercise!!!” Yay!

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I hate mowing. The push mower kicks my ass. I don’t have a huge yard but it’s not small. But I did it dammit, and I’m very proud to say my yard has looked good so far this summer (yes, I realize we’re not through May yet but still…little victories!)

But this isn’t the end of this story, no sirree! My latest obsession started a week or so ago when a neighbor of mine made a comment about my yard. I took complete offense because I’ve been working hard on it. I then started to notice I was “off” on the neighborhood mowing schedule: They would all mow on the same day (varied throughout the week) which would make my lawn look like sh*t cause I had mowed on the off day. And as soon as I mowed and my yard looked better than everyone else’s, they would ALL MOW AGAIN. Dammit, I wanted my lawn to shine for once!

So last week, all of our lawns looked good – all mowed within the last three days or so – and it was a beautiful day…breezy and perfect for mowing. I’m home during the day so I thought, “Alright beotches – I’m gonna mow! My yard is FINALLY going to be the best in the hood!” I was almost done when I heard the familiar sound of a mower start. Sh*t!!! It was the neighbor to the right. He heard me mowing and came out to mow. I chased him down (seriously!) and was like, “YO! You can’t mow! Your yard doesn’t need it and this was MY IDEA!!!” He starts laughing as the roar of another mower starts up. Son of a bitch! It’s the guy across the street! Don’t these men have jobs????

At least we made the girl next door look bad cause she was gone all day. (Tho when she returned around 6 p.m. guess what she did?) So once again, all of our yards are freshly mowed. Tonight, I’m sitting here thinking, “OK, I got at least another day or so until I have to mow again.” And then….it happens.

ROOOOAAAARRRRRR!

The girl next door has fired up her Toro and is going at it again. What's she thinking??? Now my yard once again looks like white-trash-knee-high-grass-half-covering-cars-up-on-cinder-blocks! DAMMIT!

Jesus, I need a hobby.

Pengie's Birthday Party

So my son announced to me last night, "Tomorrow is Pengie's birthday!" (Pengie is his stuffed penguin.) He said Pengie was turning 5 and that was the end of the conversation.

I was at the grocery store today and was walking by the bakery when I saw a little cake for $2.50. IDEA! This would be a PERFECT chance for me to make it up to him for not letting him watch The Terminator last night!

I then had to run to Wal-Mart and saw an iCarly CD/DVD set...PERFECT!!! Dude, this will make up for everything I've ever done wrong as a mother!!!! When I picked him up from school I told him I had a surprise for Pengie. I told him to get Pengie and get him occupied on the couch. I stuck a candle in the cake, lit it and sang Happy Birthday. Zane was so shocked - he helped Pengie blow out the candle. I handed him the wrapped gift for Pengie - which he helped Pengie open, natch - and his jaw dropped. (Patting myself on back....)

Zane grabbed all his other stuffed toys and brought them all out to the living room to eat cake and watch the iCarly DVD on my laptop. Aren't they sweet??? (Birthday penguin to the left of Zane.)

Heaven only knows how much therapy this kid will need to overcome his childhood so hopefully this will help. Then again, the kid and I will be together this summer. Day in. Day out.

I'm probably going to have to buy him a new car to make up for whatever devious deeds I'll do as a mother this summer....

Mom Confessions

1. As I’ve admitted to before, I sometimes let my son cuss at home because my mom never let me say cuss words when I was young. Or when I was in high school.

2. If we have nowhere to go on a Saturday or Sunday, my child will spend the day in his pjs. If we do have to run somewhere, he will throw a hoodie over his Spongebob pjs and go as is.

3. Since being laid off, I count the minutes until my son leaves for school so I can go back to bed.

4. My son stays up past his bedtime way too often.

5. Zane has pancakes for breakfast. Every morning. Has for the last 3 years.

6. I throw away toys because it’s just easier than garage sale-ing/donating…especially those POS McDonald’s toys.

7. I encourage Zane to eat hot lunch so I don’t have to pack anything.

8. I threaten my son with taking away his toys if he tells my mom I let him cuss.

9. I persuade my mom to chaperone on field trips because I can’t stand the thought of being stuck on a school bus with 20 unruly children for an hour.

10. Both of our beds have a fitted sheet and a comforter. That’s all. And beds are rarely made.

11. I throw away some of my son’s schoolwork (mostly stuff he hasn’t written on much.) He thinks I’m keeping everything.

12. I forbid my son to speak to me during any evening reality shows (e.g., Real Housewives, Rock of Love, Bachelor/Bachelorette, etc.)

13. I bribe my child with money and toys.

14. I purposefully stopped feeding my son’s goldfish because I hated cleaning the fishbowl.

15. I usually take my son’s gift cards and buy stuff for me/him/our house/my sister’s bday.

16. We never eat dinner at the dining room table.

17. I don’t answer the phone when my son’s friend Christian calls. He has long hair and bad taste in music and I don’t like him.

18. Although I know my son should brush his teeth before bed, I usually tell him to swish with ACT and call it a night.

19. The Indian dude who owns the local liquor store gave my son a birthday present this year. We also trick-or-treat him.

20. Regardless of how hungry my son is, I tell him our kitchen closes at 8 pm – mostly because I’d rather watch TV than cook at that point. He’s welcome to get his own snack from the food rack.

I’m def not the best mom but I think he’s happier than I was at his age!

Anyone else?

*

Growing Old

Zane: Mommy, can I get the Fall Out Boy album?

Me: Probably. Keep your room clean, be a good boy at school and home, and we'll talk.

Zane: Sweet! Um, Mommy...how do you play an album? Do you like hook it up to the tv or something?

Man I feel old.

Smile and nod, boys...just smile and nod

Have you ever been talking with someone and thinking, "This person is nice. We could be friends" and then they say something that makes you cock your head to one side and go, "Say wha???" At this point you think, I cannot believe they just said that! This person is a weirdo! Just smile and nod and start to back away slowly...

I'm a pretty open-minded person but I am still sometimes shocked by what people will share with strangers (I won't even get into some of the convos I'd had with patients in the ER!) For example, I recently received a friend request on FB. I didn't recognize the woman's name (who shall remain nameless here) so I clicked on her profile to see if something jogged my memory. Her photo didn't look familiar - she was about my age, short hair, big smile...looked normal (cue ominous music.) Turns out she went to my high school but graduated a year after me. Nothing rang a bell but I saw we had several friends in common (again, all from high school.) I was considering accepting her request until I read the blurb under her photo. It said:

"I have been given a full life w/ a supportive husband, loving children, and wonderfully close friends. I have the opportunity to conduct research that will hopefully make a difference someday. I sell sex toys! What more could I ask for?"

Say wha??? Okaaaay. Smile and nod...and slowly back away. Same thing happened to a friend of mine recently. She was on a first date when he started talking about an ex-girlfriend of his who was very...sexual. (First off, this is a no-no topic on a date. But it's pretty bad when this isn't even the "smile and nod" part!) Then he said, "I'm serious. She was always all over me. In fact, she said her husband wanted her to get her sexual aggressions out on other men. He didn't even mind if we did it while he was in the house!"

Say wha???? That's when she smiled, nodded, slammed her drink...and backed away.

I know, I know. It's tough being the normal one, right? All these people I look at and think, "What is going on in their head that they would say that???" Oh well. I've gotten used to it. In fact, I've gotten so good at it that I don't even think people realize I'm planning a quick escape in my head as they're talking about the boil on their butt. *sigh*

Wait. Why are you smiling? Stop nodding! COME BACK!!!!!!!!

Dirty Little Secrets

Everyone has at least one dirty little secret. I partook in one last night.

My sleep patterns are about as screwy as my Pekin-based mother's side of the family. I usually wake around 2 or 3 am for one reason or another. I did it again last night, and I did something that helps me fall asleep. Did I drink? Nope (I know..shocking...but my house was dry.) Smoke a little doobage? (Not since college.) Order porn from On Demand? Nuh uh. My dirty little secret is......

I watch Tom and Jerry cartoons.

That's right. I like to wrap up in a blanket, lie on the couch, and watch Tom and Jerry. There's something comforting about watching that schmuck Tom be continually terrorized and beaten by little Jerry. Plus the episodes were created in the 60s-so the term "politically correct" wasn't even in vocab. Case in point: Last night's episode had Jerry and his mouse friend tormenting a sleeping Tom (of course...) Jerry snuck down the fireplace and placed a handgun in Tom's hand, pointed it toward his head, pulled the trigger, and ran. Pan camera to Tom, who had a smoking reverse mohawk in the middle of his head. LOVE IT!

I'm surprised Tipper Gore hasn't pulled all those good ol' violent cartoons from the 60s and 70s...hope it never happens. We were raised on this garbage, and we turned out okay (well....a matter of opinion for some.) I mean, how else would I lull myself back to sleep if I didn't have politically incorrect animated violence? I'd probably start having dreams of me whacking Tipper with a frying pan until her face is flat...or shooting a

cannonball into her mouth and watch it travel through her body until it sticks out in her butt.

Flying is for the Birds

I hate flying. Seriously, I would rather cut off my arms and legs and be a flopping bloody torso than fly. It's not that I've never tried it - I first flew when I was 5 months old. I've flown my whole life.

I tend to overanalyze everything so I tried to figure out why I hated flying. I'm not afraid of heights...nor of tight spaces. I think it's my aversion to falling 30,000 feet to my death. That and my distaste for terrorists (both domestic and foreign.)

I think it started when I was 9 years old. I was visiting my dad in California, and there was a huge thunderstorm during my flight home. The lights flickered in the cabin, and we were all over the night sky. I was petrified. We made it home safely but it left a terrified scar in my mind. As I look back, I realize that every time I flew after that incident I became more and more nervous.

Fast forward to high school. We were booked on a cruise and had to fly to Miami. I was of course petrified (side note: did my mother not know of sedatives???) so I visited a hypnotherapist who swore he could get me over my fear of flying. He "put me under" and instructed that when I was on the plane, I should touch my index fingers to my thumbs and then slowly separate them while exhaling slowly. It would relax me and remind me that I am not afraid to fly. He made a tape of the session, and I listened to it religiously.

The day finally came for us to leave for our dream cruise. As we sat on the runway, with the engines gearing up for takeoff, I closed my eyes and touched my index fingers to my thumbs. I exhaled and separated them and...nothing happened. My eyes flew open, and I started to panic. I tried it again...BUT NOTHING HAPPENED. As we taxied down the runway, I yelled to my mom who was sitting two seats up across the aisle, "MOTHER! IT'S NOT WORKING!!!" I displayed the opening and closing of my finger and thumb to show her it wasn't working. (If this had happened today, they probably would have aborted the takeoff and escorted me off the flight. I was quite...agitated.) But there was nothing I could do at that point. We lifted off...and I survived. We made it to Miami with my psyche barely intact.

We were having a FAB-TASTIC time on the cruise until...an airplane crashed. Yep. United Airlines Flight 232 cartwheeled onto the tarmac in Sioux City, Iowa. My mother turned from the television, took one look at me, and headed for the bar...where I think she stayed for the remainder of the trip.

We made it back home - though the flight was a blur (I think I've blocked it out?) I vaguely remember my mother pulling me through the St. Louis airport trying to catch our flight back to Peoria (again Ma...sedatives???)

Didn't really book any more trips after that. A few years later, I took the train to my aunt's house in Big Bear Lake, CA, for Thanksgiving. Her road ends at Snow Summit's parking lot - it's so fab. My cousin, Sarah, and I decided to go skiing. There hadn't been much snow so they had to make it - and only had an intermediate slope open (I'm a bunny slope kind of girl.) I didn't care - I was game. So we got on the ski lift to ride to the top of the mountain (btw, what a view! Just breathtaking...) I saw the bunny slope pass on my left. As we climbed higher, the ground suddenly dropped beneath us. That's when I knew.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I know why I hate to fly."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"Um..apparently I'm deathly afraid of being SUSPENDED IN MID-AIR!"

"Oh. Okay. Well, this is a good time to discover that, I guess."

That was it. I realized at that moment that I don't like to be suspended over...nothing. It makes perfect sense...I was afraid of bridges when I was young. In fact, the elevated walkway from the parking deck at Caterpillar used to give me the heebie-jeebies if I thought about it too much!

Now that I know my fear, I can begin to conquer it. I truly would like to fly again someday...and I will. It's just that first step that's so hard. But I have faith in myself that I will conquer my fear and get on an airplane someday soon.

Sedated, of course.

My Foray into Buddhism

When I was 19 years old, I was in my sister's wedding in Santa Rosa, CA. The morning my mom and I headed back to glorious Illinois, we had to catch a 5 a.m. shuttle at a hotel. For some reason, I was panicky. I'd recently developed some problems with panic attacks but thought I had put that behind me. It was still dark, the area was spooky, and we were waiting for Jose Blow to pick us up in a van. I wasn't calm.

There was a family nearby also waiting for the shuttle. They were on their way to Yosemite for a long weekend of hiking and communing with nature. The mom was Asian, the three children were young, and the dad was a white guy - and resembled a hippie...but in preppy clothing. Apparently my nervousness was noticeable to him (could it have been me sucking my thumb and talking to myself in the third person???) because he stopped me and said, "Wow...you are really wound up. Have you ever tried meditating?" I never forgot his words. When I returned to Illinois, I got books on meditation but - did I mention I returned to Illinois? Needless to say, there weren't too many meditation resources advertised in the ol' Peoria area. My books didn't exactly inspire me, and I fell asleep twice while meditating. So of course I quit.

Fast forward to now. Can't remember what planted the seed in my head (perhaps repressed memories of my Yosemite hippie?) but I decided to Google meditation - which led me to Buddhism. Wikipedia (which is the GOD'S HONEST TRUTH DAMMIT!) said the reason many people have such a misconception about Buddhism is because Buddhists don't go around preaching their beliefs and trying to save people. They are happy to teach someone who requests information but you won't see them in the airport, handing out flowers. The more I read, the more I liked. For those who have not been laid off and therefore don't have a sh*tload of time on their hands, let me explain Buddhism in a nutshell: It's all about being good to others while trying to calm your mind - because the mind is a powerful creator of stress in our lives. Ever wonder how some people freak out at the littlest thing and others can handle the world? All in the mind bbs.

I decided to tell my mom about my Buddhism exploration. There was no way she'd be supportive - so pray tell why would I tell her? Just for sh*ts and giggles. She's from Pekin. Her mind is about as open as a...okay, I can't even come up with an analogy because she is so closed minded. Anyway, I told her. At first, she was silent. Then she said, "Don't they worship that fat guy?" I explained to her they don't worship Buddha - they pay homage to him for relaying his teachings. She was still quiet so I asked, "You're afraid I'm going to shave my head and blow up airplanes, aren't you?"

"REGAN!!!"

I let her read a few passages in my Buddhism for Dummies book (yes, I said it. I have a few books written by the Dalai Lama and they are a little over my head right now. The Buddhism for Dummies book is quite good....) She's more open to the idea of Buddhism now but made me promise I wouldn't start worshipping fat men.

Unless of course they're rich.

Goals

So I was watching Ellen today (my first foray into daytime tv - no soaps yet) and she talked about goals. Her new goal is to be on the cover of O Magazine...which should go over well with Miss O since she's the only one ever on the cover.

Regardless, Ellen has inspired me to find a goal. On the same episode, she included a "Gold Digger" spot (where someone gets into a booth full of money and tries to grab as much as they can as the money is blowing around them.) She sent the booth to the apartment of a girl who is working 2 jobs to put herself through college and lives in a 1-bedroom apartment with her mother and sister. After the girl stuffed her shirt full of money, Ellen told her she was giving all the money in the booth ($2000) to the girl - as well as a flat screen tv. The girl started crying. She hugged the PA holding the mike and was in a daze....all for $2000 and a tv.

Who wouldn't want to make someone that happy? It completely fills my heart to do something for someone - especially someone who doesn't expect anyone to do anything for them. I was at our ghetto WalMart once and a black girl in front of me had a pair of sneakers in her cart for her son, who looked to be about 4 years old. When the cashier scanned them at $20, the girl said she thought they were on sale. Since they weren't, she asked the cashier to take it off the bill. I've been that broke before, right out of college. Now I spend so money on crap for my son...so I asked the cashier to put the shoes on my bill. I caught up to the girl and gave her the shoes. I told her that her little boy was darling and reminded me of my son (other than the fact that he was black...but I didn't mention that.) She had a stunned look on her face and thanked me. It just made my day to help someone else. (Of course, she probably sold the shoes for crack or something but I'll try to give her the benefit of the doubt!)

My goal is to find a new "career" in which I can help people. No more selling my soul for the corporate money...it's not worth the stress other people put on me and not worth the karma I burn by imagining their slow painful deaths...usually at my hands.

I very well may be broke due to my decision but at least I will be happy with my life - and will be a positive role model for my spoiled son. I also hope someone like the current me will be in line behind me at WalMart the day I can't afford shoes for my son.

Or a bottle of wine for me.

What now?

You know that age-old question that's supposed to reveal your ideal profession? "What if money was no issue - what would you do with your life?" I never could answer that question. Well, not as an adult...but I've recently been given the rare opportunity to ask myself that question, answer it and then live it (and no, I didn't win the lottery....yet.)

Laid off. I feel like a welder with bad teeth and a penchant for Natural Light. It could easily make one feel as if being laid off is a sign you weren't doing your job well. I wasn't warned - always received good remarks on my work. BUT...it is what it is and I am now being paid to sleep in.

So.........what now? I have health insurance for one year and will get approximately 2/3 my salary per month. A little belt tightening required (perhaps a boyfriend is now needed so I can get free dinners out? It's not even summer yet so he wouldn't have to start mowing my lawn for at least 2 months!) Anyhoo, money is now not an issue - what do I do with my life? So many options. I've never liked the corporate world - though it paid well, people were vicious. I was tattled on so many times for trivial things - I cried more at *previous shitty employer* than I ever did at home. I can't deal with that. I've learned firsthand that life can be gone in a snap. It's too short to deal with stupid, insecure assholes who make you feel insignificant and stupid - all so they can make enough money to install a bidet with warm water. I see this furlough as a blessing...and a second chance.

I've thought of tweaking my degree so I could teach - helping shape young minds, summers off - but I'm finding the entry teaching jobs to be very few. Write a book! I actually have a really good story to tell but that takes time...and then I'll get called back halfway through and won't have time to write. The world is my proverbial oyster, and I'm just sitting here wondering how to get that slippery little bugger on the damn cracker so I can eat it!

I've wanted to live in Florida since I was 7 years old. I went to college there but was all by myself and came back to be near family (what was I thinking, right???) I'd love to go back and this would be the perfect time - wouldn't be stressed to find a job. But as always, a child changes everything. Zane loves his school - he has a phenomenal teacher this year and is in love with the girl next to him, Rebecca. I know he'd LOVE Florida...but what if? What if I move them (yes, the nag - I mean the nanny - would come with) and they hate it? What if I don't, and I regret it? Many people say they'd rather live without having to ask "what if"? "Just go for it - you'll always regret it if you don't!"

Arggggh. Oh well....the turmoil gives me something to do for now. It could be worse - I could have been engaged to Bachelor Jason! You know, he was seeing Molly behind Melissa's back the whole time. If I was Melissa, I would have throat punched Jason right on that stage - and held Molly down and shaved off her eyebrows or something. Seriously.

And my mother wonders why I'm still single????

*

First Blog

My first blog....says nothing. I'm still working this out but HEY! tis better than sniffing glue or drinking all day with Court and Sandra...

Check back soon! (And feel free to verify me as an author b/c the Ones In Charge are asking for it!)