I'm afraid of my brain...

Ok, this train of thought started this morning. It's another example of my self-diagnosed ADD. I intended at some point to write about how I start stuff and then get side tracked. But I got side tracked. First by the whole being a bad stan thing, then by Facebook (damn you, Mafia Wars!!) then by G-Chat with Alise, which led me to write something I sent to her.

Then of course, I had to attend to the little things in life, like, I dunno.... the fact that I have a child who must be cared for and fed and attended to and whatnot. Not to mention that he needed to practice his guitar, b/c his slacker of a mother didn't make him practice at all on Friday or Saturday.

Soooooo..... here I am, at 9 pm, writing what I intended to write at 7 am. Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah... my brain is a scary place. It is like an amusement park ride in poor repair. You know, like the travelling carnivals that make you pray they don't throw parts until after YOU get off the dang ride. That kind.

Anyway, I started to blame this on being a nurse. B/c when you are a nurse on a busy medical floor, you have to be able to juggle, multitask and prioritize simultaneously... patient A needs pain meds, patient B just came up from ER and has to be admitted, patient C is being discharged and is anxious to get home, D, E and F are just plain ol' sick and need stuff. You kinda just have to go and figure it all out on the run. Then I realized, no... the whole ADD thing started way before nursing. I'm pretty sure having it is an asset in that sense, actually.

But that doesn't change the fact that a person could get hurt up there in my ol' gray matter. It's cluttered and nothing stays where I put it. Kinda like my house. Which leads me to another thought... I really need to tackle my closets and Eli's room.

Eli's room is an even scarier place than my mind. It is literally a universe of its own. It has its own gravitational pull and nothing escapes it. Imagine swirling galaxies, if you will... it's a very young universe, therefore chaotic and lacking organization.

Sorta like my brain. Which leads me back to the topic... I can't stay focused on one thing longer than five minutes today.

Now what was I talking about?

I'm a bad stan....

I woke up this morning, and while I made the first pot of coffee, I was struck by a thought. I don't know where it came from.... I never really know, that's how my brain works. Anyhooo.... the thought was about another blog I read n stan hard for... Oh Hell Nawl.

A while back, they had an anniversary n whatnot. They asked readers to let them know how/why/what, and all that there, about how the readers came to OHN n what kept them coming back n stuff.... At the time, I really thought I came to find OHN through Luvvie (Luv gets the blame for a lot of ignance she ain't start), but this morning... for some reason, I remembered where I REALLY heard about OHN. It wasn't the LuvBug at all! Not that she isn't awesome... just that she's not the one to blame for my lurking and occasional comments over yonder... which led me to be filled with shame at a crime of omission on my part!!

Follow me here... coz my mind can be a scary place. This is pretty much where the train jumps the tracks...

My introduction to OHN was by a passing remark on Twitter from The PBG. The shame I feel and my crime of omission are not that I gave credit/blame to the wrong person for leading me to OHN.... not at all, but because that caused another random thought to blip across my brain.

I had never truly acknowledged that I stan hard for The PBG's blogs! I have mentioned NaturallyAlise numerous times. I wrote a welcome home post when Luvvie went on vacay this summer. Yet, I have totally neglected to acknowledge and thank the person who left the very first comment on my blog and was my very first follower!!

The PBG is probably one of the coolest people I have encountered on the intrawebs.... She is intelligent, wise, straightforward and funnier that any one person ought to be. She has three blogs... which I have linked through out this post.

Hey, You Asked... is an advice blog. She has this way of cutting through the bs and telling ya what you really need to hear... the truth!! Fifty-two(52)Flavors is her nail blog. Shoot... she convinced me, a nurse, that I could keep my nails looking great, even if I do wash my hands 183 times a day. And then there's See, What Had Happened Was.... which is mostly random life kinda ignance.

I should be mollywhopped for taking so long to give The PBG her props... because she's the bees knees! And I appreciated her encouragement. And she's totally the coolest!

So here it is, for what it's worth... I Stan Hard for The PBG and the whole ePosse. And thank you, Miss Ma'am! You're the Bestest!!

This is for Miss Kendra....

Jon gettn his DadTime on

So, officially, I have about 7 followers... but all the good people I work with at the Ranch read my blogs as well as a good number of my Facebook friends. So when one of my friends at the Ranch makes a special request for me to tackle a topic, I try to oblige.

Kendra made a request today. It is a topic I have previously avoided, b/c the blogosphere is full of stuff about Jon & Kate Plus 8. But since it's Kendra.... Here we go.

First off, I really don't like Kate. She is an emasculating hag, in my humble opinion. Every episode of that show I ever watched was nagging and her perfectionist, OCD-tendencied-ass verbally castrating her hubby. Kate wore the pants in that fam, no doubt. Now, did Jon stand up to her? Not so much. Thus breeds resentment. And that's one thing that is sure to kill love.

So was I surprised when the split was announced. Nope. Did I care much? Nope.

(Although I did feel horrible for the kids. Then when the media circus erupted in their poor lil' faces.... Lawd!! Those poor lil' babes didn't ask to be brought into all that mess.... I see a lot of therapy in their futures... Ain't those kids' fault their parents need to get their collective and individual lives together!)

But here comes the aftermath...

Jon's out clubbin' and movin' on. Kate is making the media rounds bemoaning her lot and getting a lot of sympathy. Like she had nothing to do with the demise of the marriage. If I had been Jon, ol' girl and her crazy ass haircut prolly woulda come up missing... I'm just sayin... I really think, however, if we are truly honest, none of us would wanna be married to that shrew.

I question Jon's choice of gf. She seems a lil' suspect to me, BUT I kinda get where he's coming from, to be truthful. He's feelin' himself and his freedom for the first time in a long time.

As long as he's doing right by his kids, not bending ol' girl over the kitchen table while they're running around the house playing and whatnot, then I say, Hey, Jon! Do you, boo!!

And Kate? Keep it movin' girl. Learn from it. Do better next time. Let ya man keep his manhood... feel me?

Ok, Kendra... I know what you really want me to blast about, and it's forthcoming. Be patient.

See, the reason this sticks in my homegirl's throat (and in mine) is this....

BABY MAMA DRAMA!!!!

Really, Kendra, I think a better couple to mirror your angst is probably Kelis and Nas (now THERE's a greedy heffa!)

The question at hand is this, why, ladies, when your relationship ends do you feel it necessary to make your ex's life miserable (and his new girl's life as well) just b/c he's not with you anymore?

Furthermore, why do you feel it necessary to use your children as pawns in the said efforts?

LET HIM GO!! As long as he's handling his responsibilities with the children-- and I'm talking in time, love, care, and nurturing as well as the finances--you gotta learn to live and let live. Adjust!! Move on!! Learn who you are and what you want out of life. Be mature. Handle your business, and leave that man alone. Let him move on. If he finds love with somebody else, let him be happy. And never forget that God don't like ugly.

Now, with all that said, if the man isn't taking care of his biz, by all means, check him. But don't be petty about shit. What's over is over. Keep it MOVING!!

My theory (I'm full of these, just ask Alise) on this business? When a relationship ends and one partner moves on and finds happiness, the other partner feels left behind. They might not even want the person back.... they just didn't want them to move on first. Or at all. It's all good for me to get over it, but mufugga, you best be miserable for LIFE!!

Back in the day they called that Dog in the Manger... that dog isn't about to eat the hay or grain in the manger that's been put there for the horses and whatnot, but he doesn't want the horse to eat it either!! "I don't want ya, but I don't want anyone else to have ya."

So, there ya have it... another crackpot post on relationships from your friendly neighborhood Spidermom!

(How was that, Kendra?)

I Don't Hafta!! So There!!

Admittedly, I've been kinda stressed and angsty the last couple of weeks. Mostly revolving around some dysfunctional-since-the-dawn-of-time family stuff.... and trust me, I thought about putting all the involved parties on blast. I truly did. I thought about giving all 6 of my readers the full onslaught of my angst, chapter and verse.

Then I had a second thought. Which was this: what's the point? Will it change any of it? Nah. Will it even make me feel that much better? Ummmm.... nope. Is any of it likely to result in any humor or in any way produce a giggle? Not so much. Unless, of course, I get into my one aunt's Kabuki Theatre makeup and her non-existant eyebrows... and that's just likely to get mean. So, there is no redeeming social value to putting the fam on blast.

So what to do with the stress and angst?

Well, dear friends, I did the unthinkable. I engaged in some self-reflection. Yeah, I know. WTF? But you know what they say... whoever they are... if you can't change the situation, change yourself/your perspective/your reactions... allathatthere.

So... my conclusions? My conclusions/course of action were surprisingly kindergarten in nature. I came away with the following regarding my family, which I hope you find mildly entertaining/informative/useful. (I'm big on the forward slashes today, huh?)

1. You're not the boss of me! Just because you tell me you made plans doesn't obligate me to those plans. I'm a grown woman who can say, nicely, "I'm sorry. That won't work for me."

II. I don't wanna play dress up!! (and I won't, b/c You're not the boss of me!) I am too old to be playing games where I pretend to be someone you approve of... I am me, flaws n all. Take it or leave it.

C. Boys are goofy!! (and predictable) A good friend had some issues this week... I'm throwin' this one in for her. All is working out well on that front, tho, dear readers, so do not despair!

IV. I know you are, but what am I? Just b/c someone has an opinion about me, does not make that opinion written down as TRUTH.

6. Bullies suck! In the end, when you peel away the layers... the bullies are always really unhappy people underneath it all. They throw their weight around to feel some sort of control/power/superiority. But really they are just pitiful and sad.

So there you have it. My musings on life's current events, broken down kiddy style!

WTF?

Well, originally, I was gonna compose a succinct, witty.... nay, pithy!... account of the family antics of the last week. But I lack the mental endurance to relive those precious moments (watch out, y'all... sarcasm drippin' all over the place. You don't wanna slip...)

So, instead, I'm delivering up snippets of stuff I have heard over the last week that has caused a permanent furrow in my forehead.

"Don't worry about anything, I have your weekend planned," my aunt.

"Marc's not here. He'll be my dad when he marries my mom," my son to his teacher at open house.

"Oh, look... whose little colored child?" random distant relative at my uncle's memorial service.

"Wow, those hotdogs look good," same person as above, regarding some boiled hotdogs at the luncheon after.

"You can't leave now, we're going to play pinochle," again, my aunt. I have never in my life played pinochle... that was my mom. She's dead, thanks.

"Mom, can I have a cup of coffee?" Riiiiiight, Eli. I'm not fallin' for that one. I know better than to caffeinate a six-year-old.

Yeah, it's been that kind of week.