I smoke. A week ago, I came to the realization that I am up to a pack a day. (I can't tell my Mommy I smoke that much. It would kill her, and then I'd be an orphan.) A smoking-related cancer killed my daddy, and yet I puff away...I seriously need to cut this sh*t out--I'm having one as I type. (A cigarette, not a sh*t.)
I'm on my lunchbreak at work. I sooooo totally freakin' hate my job. I love to blog, though. As a matter of fact, I'm taking an executivo to write and post this, but I wasn't raised to be contrary, so I guess I should wrap it up. I will give more detail on my battle with the nicotine nipple and the hatred of my job soon. Bye.
(Oh, and by the way, I have 2 jobs. I'm not talking about the one listed in my profile.)
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Happy Mother's Day!!!
Welp, another Mother's Day is upon us, and ONCE AGAIN I greeted it not with a daughter (named after my favorite supermodel) or a son (named after my favorite writer). Here I am, carting around the same basket of unfertilized eggs and staving off menopause through mental telepathy.
As dismayed as I am because I have yet to experience the joys of motherhood, I am blessed because my fantastic mommy is still in the land of the living, so today I celebrate HER. I know in my last post I expressed anger towards my parents for my status as an out-of-wedlock child. Well I'm over it, for now. I will not pretend that growing up fatherless doesn't present challenges in both child and adulthood. However I want to focus on one very important thing: I have a wonderful mother.
She had me rather "late" in life, at age 33. As soon as she recovered from having me (to let her tell it, she nearly died trying to get me here), she started working at a textile mill and would continue there until the mill shut down, when she was in her mid 60's. She did what she could for me. I didn't get everything I wanted, i.e., dance lessons, a Victorian dollhouse, braces, summer camp...but I always had what I needed. She was a great classroom mom, making cupcakes for my class, making sure I presented my teachers with a Christmas present every year, and during my elementary school years when I was being bullied to the point that I got off the bus crying several days a week, my mom was at the school "handling" THAT business. She's always supported my goals and dreams, even the modeling dream, which is still in my heart.
Mommy is a very sweet, kindhearted, understanding person, and she really deserves better than what life and what certain people in her life have thrown at her. She has told me of aspirations that she had when she was younger, but I don't think the magnitude of her disappointments really hit home for me until I was moving into my dorm when I was in college. As I unpacked, she stood looking out the window of my dormroom with her hands locked behind her back, and she said wistfully, "I wish I could have gone to college." At the time it struck me, for a moment, but I was anxious to get out on campus and check out the men. However, that moment has always stayed with me. To me, that sad far away look on her face that I have seen several more times over the years--and sometimes see now--is a heartbreaking summary of any mistreatment and hurt she's endured, as well as all of the things she gave up for me.
Today, I am 40. She is 73. My life isn't what I want it to be, but I haven't given up hope. Mommy raised me well. All out-of-wedlock chirren don't turn to a life of crime, FYI. I have my degree, and I haven't given up on the dreams that I had. I just pray that God will let me keep my Mommy long enough for her to see me successful and happy, and able to give her at least some of the things she's always wanted--including a couple of grandbabies.
Mommy and me ca. 1974
"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts & counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, & cause peace to return to our hearts.” -Washington Irving
As dismayed as I am because I have yet to experience the joys of motherhood, I am blessed because my fantastic mommy is still in the land of the living, so today I celebrate HER. I know in my last post I expressed anger towards my parents for my status as an out-of-wedlock child. Well I'm over it, for now. I will not pretend that growing up fatherless doesn't present challenges in both child and adulthood. However I want to focus on one very important thing: I have a wonderful mother.
She had me rather "late" in life, at age 33. As soon as she recovered from having me (to let her tell it, she nearly died trying to get me here), she started working at a textile mill and would continue there until the mill shut down, when she was in her mid 60's. She did what she could for me. I didn't get everything I wanted, i.e., dance lessons, a Victorian dollhouse, braces, summer camp...but I always had what I needed. She was a great classroom mom, making cupcakes for my class, making sure I presented my teachers with a Christmas present every year, and during my elementary school years when I was being bullied to the point that I got off the bus crying several days a week, my mom was at the school "handling" THAT business. She's always supported my goals and dreams, even the modeling dream, which is still in my heart.
Mommy is a very sweet, kindhearted, understanding person, and she really deserves better than what life and what certain people in her life have thrown at her. She has told me of aspirations that she had when she was younger, but I don't think the magnitude of her disappointments really hit home for me until I was moving into my dorm when I was in college. As I unpacked, she stood looking out the window of my dormroom with her hands locked behind her back, and she said wistfully, "I wish I could have gone to college." At the time it struck me, for a moment, but I was anxious to get out on campus and check out the men. However, that moment has always stayed with me. To me, that sad far away look on her face that I have seen several more times over the years--and sometimes see now--is a heartbreaking summary of any mistreatment and hurt she's endured, as well as all of the things she gave up for me.
Today, I am 40. She is 73. My life isn't what I want it to be, but I haven't given up hope. Mommy raised me well. All out-of-wedlock chirren don't turn to a life of crime, FYI. I have my degree, and I haven't given up on the dreams that I had. I just pray that God will let me keep my Mommy long enough for her to see me successful and happy, and able to give her at least some of the things she's always wanted--including a couple of grandbabies.
Mommy and me ca. 1974
"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts & counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, & cause peace to return to our hearts.” -Washington Irving
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