feed Subscribe to feed


Posted in Crazy Wisdom on Friday, January 3, 2003 at 11:09 pm by flerly.

Let me start this by saying.. I’m in Bristol, at Mom’s, having a very pleasant time in the freezing-fricking-cold-blowing-snow weather, remembering why I miss her so much all the time. It’s hurts to hear how much she had doubted I was actually coming. It hurt to sit at the little Mexican dive where we had dinner and see how uncomfortable she is in places she’s unfamiliar with. It was cool to hook up the new big monitor for her and see her take off on the computer and say how cool it is now that she can see it all better.

In short, this trip like every other to visit her, will be too short now matter how long it lasts.

So.. why am I pissed off? I’m pissed off about how totally fucking powerless I am in the scheme of the world, and how totally misunderstood I can be by my own family.

Let’s be methodical about this…

1) My mom blurts out that my sister told her that she doesn’t think I like her.

Oh what a can of worms this is because.. look.. I’m writing about this on the INTERNET!

Sis, WHEN (not if) you read this… that’s retarded. I love you and miss you terribly, and now just think you’re a silly girl. We are both busy. We are both too far apart. We about as much in common and not in common, but we know how to have a damn fun time when we manage to get together. I do silly things, and I know you do silly things. We both put up with our goofy MEN, we both want mom to move in next door to us, and we both want Angela to move in on the other side of us. The ONLY thing I don’t like about you is you SMOKE and your house smells like smoke and your clothes (and the same goes for ALL smokers, it’s not a personal thing) and I’ve been really uncomfortably bothered by my allergies for the past few years and it makes me downright irritable to have to sleep smelling it… hence, I don’t enjoy THAT part of visiting… but if you EVER think it’s cuz I don’t want to see you, then you’re SO wrong. In fact… if i EVER hear you think I don’t like you AGAIN, I’m going to have to send you an emergency pan of brownies because you’re obviously delirious from chocolate withdrawals.

2) Mom tried to laugh off a story about receiving a disturbing, rude card in the mail, which was probably from a local psycho in-law.

Okay. This one scared me before it pissed me off. Mom, in her harmless attempt to be “spiteful”, sent my piece-of-shit, weak-willed, mentally-inept, tool of an older brother, who she still maintains some desire to keep in her life despite the adjectives used previously, a Christmas card. It was addressed to him and his daughter, purposefully leaving out the name of the Queen-Psycho-Bitch-and-probably-serial-killer wife of his (thus the spiteful attempt). It was the same nice card she sent everyone, signed inside, simply, “The Johnson Family.” Please note this.. the ONLY thing spiteful thing here was the leaving off of QPBapsk wife’s name.

Shortly after, she received in the mail, a novelty card with a contorted circus-lady on the front, imprinted with some joke about “People may think you’re weird, but I stand up for you”… funny, perhaps… but hand printed neatly was the additional sentiment.. “You should hear how people talk about you. Jealousy and Evilness will get you no where. You need Jesus in your heart.”

I hope my point has been made as to the psychoness of the person involved here.

3) Prompted by the receiving of the psycho card, I ask Mom about the details of the “falling out” with this family member.

Apparently my brother, who shall here-after be referred to as Husband of Psycho-Bitch, worked at a place, where he had been for a while and had earned a position of some respect. Well, a not-so-psycho sister-in-law landed a job at the same place, which was a really good job for her. Upon discovering this, Psycho-Bitch tells her husband to threaten to quit if they don’t fire her, so Puppet-Husband of Psycho-Bitch does so, and this company not affording to lose Husband of Psycho-Bitch, does so… reluctantly (can you say LAWSUIT? WTF?) Then apparently sane brother, husband of not-so-psycho sister-in-law who got canned, goes to visit the Psycho-Bitch household to find out what’s up, and apparently gets the police called on him, ends up in court, with Psycho-Bitch begging the judge to put this “drunken menace behind bars for the good of society”. This was… what.. 8? 10? years ago.. and all I can say is.. I was stupidly, blissfully, unaware of it all, living my college-life up in Chattanooga. This was major psychoness, and I missed it. I just seemed to get the news bulletin that said “we don’t talk to them now”… and that was it.

4) And to top it off, I sit down to wait for my lovely to sign on at work, and get read up on some very unhappy developments in a dear friend’s life.

In brief… tomorrow I’ve added shopping for a cudgel to arm myself for the trip home. Can anyone recommend a brand that knocks sense into people particularly well? Grrrr.

So… anyway. That’s the sum of it. Tonight I will dreaming of the day the police arrest Psycho-Bitch-in-law and have to spend days digging up the bodies she’s buried in the flower garden. And, from here on out, I will always wonder how I could be so oblivious to the psychoness going on… I feel so powerless to do anything, and think that even if I’d really known what was up, there was nothing I could have done. I am reminded by all of this of my attempt while Dad was in the hospital to reach out to this brother, for my Dad’s sake. I left a letter at his house when he wouldn’t answer the door, and later wrote him lengthy, heart-felt email, which was rudely responded to in the same contorted-circus-lady-esque psychoness by someone obviously not anywhere near the same brainwaves as the rest of us.

Perhaps I should feel lucky that I’m not buried in her flower garden right now for setting foot on her doorstep with the letter.

Anyway.. I’ve been up since 4:30 am, and I don’t think I’ll be sleeping in tomorrow with Mom (and those freaking-squeaky kitchen floors) around. Best get to bed.

Good night to all the people I love. I hope you don’t secretly think I’m psycho.

Post edited because Mom pieced together the card from Psycho-Bitch she had ripped up, and I got to actually SEE it


No Comments

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

Search this blog