I have 4 different kinds of headaches right now.
One of them technically resides in the skull of the step son's mother,
but since it responsible for at least two of mine,
I'm counting it.
One of my headaches came from staring at this site,
while mulling over the polite ways in which I could say how entirely nauseated I was by each sentence written--
they seemed to get progressively worse.
(Not unlike a headache!)
Blogging, for me, is not about money or fucking awareness of causes I have no direct give-a-shit-ism for.
It is about freedom of expression!
It is about casting off oppression!!
It is about ME.
Anyway, the idea of using my blog to do "good" for humanity is super swell.
Really it is.
But, frankly, getting from one point on the clock to the next is sometimes about all I can manage.
Oh, and one side of the city to the other.
Or the bed.
Or, well, you get the idea.
Altogether, that means...
I'm still fairly cheerful.
My eyes are dry, though.
And not in a "At least I'm not crying" way, either.
Just dried out.
Whaddo I live in a dessert or something??
My headaches are mostly pretend, by the way.
As in...I don't have real headaches.
Just a touch of the orneries, with a heaping spoonful of loud kids.
I think people with quiet kids are assholes.
And probably are drugging their kids.
I haven't talked about my Mom much on here,
because it's not really that kind of a place,
but she is my hero.
She has worked so hard for her whole life,
and never complains about anything.
It's truly amazing.
She is cheerful in the face of small mishaps, and stolid in times of adversity.
She taught me to cook, to sew--
and there are about a thousand other things she does that I wish I could do.
You'd be shocked to know it at this point
(and frankly, I can hardly make sense of it myself)
but I did learn amazing work ethic from her.
I was a model employee.
Working extra hard, extra long--
and I didn't complain, either.
I've gone soft, or something.
Being at home has warped me into this lazy monster of varied whines.
I would like some wine.
Anywho, she is wonderful.
She has always told me that I should be a writer, but has never pushed me to do ANYTHING, even that.
She quietly encourages, but doesn't bully or guilt.
I never needed an alarm clock until I left home--
she would open my door, turn on my light and leave.
Just me--not my sister.
(yeah, I'm the youngest. what of it???)
Even though she worked like a horse, she always cooked wonderful, nutrious, balanced, interesting meals--
god, how I wish I would do that.
I get stuck in ruts and cook the same things like a fucking record whose needle has encountered a particle of dust...
She taught me, by example, that reading books was the highest form of luxury.
And continues to demonstrate integrity and grace.
I am so lucky to have this mother, who is my friend.
I can never thank her for all the ways she has shaped the best parts of me,
I'll be damned if the woman who taught me to love adventure is going to miss out on this one!
...she's super excited which is the best part of it all.
Happy weekend, all.
The headaches have receded; I smile.