Cranky post - Not your elected officials fault

Yesterday I had hay delivered. When the fellow was telling me how much my total was... he added : and $32... for the governor. Today, negotiating on a car, when I was trying to push them on price... the salesman said... well, that $1300 dollars is non-negotiable that goes to Christine. (*Christine Gregoire is our governor) I got politely cranky, and said... actually it does not go to Christine. It goes to our state. Which we are all a part of and includes the road and ferry I would drive this new car on. And also funds things that all our elected officials have decided, no matter what party they belong to and many that were decided long before Christine got into office.
Whether you voted for them or not, they represent all of us. And believe it or not, if you call their office they will not ask your party affiliation, they will help in whatever way they are able. This hatred of politicians is ridiculous. Do you really think they are so much different than yourself? What the hell happened to everyone's civility? So I don't agree with how .000021% of the federal budget (or my state budget, county budget etc) gets spent so I vilify the individuals we elected? And go all wackjob about it? Spewing hate of someone I have never met?
I know I am also reacting to the birth certificate issue with Obama. Good lord people, this is what you have the attention span to care about? Not any of those wars we have stumbled into, not our spiraling debt, but a birth certificate? Arghh.

Blogs - Soap Opera - Part II

So I got sucked into this online hissy fit between three bloggers. It is like reading those reality shows I won't watch, except there is no editing to make it more palatable for primetime television.
Only one was actually having hissy fits you could see online. Her sister and brother in law were having their own uncomfortable online blogging episodes and the point of all the brouhaha a) her attacks on a blogger who is one of the big bloggers with the aforementioned clean and easy-reading blog, visually appealing and supposedly well-funded by advertisers and b)she had a crisis of faith, as in, completely went away from the church. This may be fine and dandy to do on the West Coast of the U.S. but from reading her it sounds like hell on earth in her part of (Kansas? Iowa? anyway the corn and bible belt) She is pretty feisty. Reading her I stick by my "I think menopause is hitting her bad..." or else she has tucked alot of 'shoulds' under her belt without knowing why and when the hormones started changing she began to question things. Really really question things. I don't envy her one bit. She has alot of anger, although it is well-worded anger. Her stories of how her family is dealing with her make me sad.
Note: I am editing all the blog name specifics out of this and my previous post. I wanted to comment on the impersonal/personal nature of blogging and how we bloggers may or may not match our online blogging persona. What I don't want is to benefit traffic-wise just because I put some big name bloggers in my verbiage here. And I was. So now I am not.

Birthday story of long ago

Well, birthday story of three years ago. It is the season of birthdays in our house, Wilder on the 28th of May, Rose on the 5th of June. That makes for action packed weekends around our place. I lived through Wilder's party of boys, and one girl... plus his sister. Lots of yelling and sugar rushing.
This weekend will be at least a dozen fifteen year-olds whooping it up around the house. Yikes. But girls are easier? Or at least there are less fart and burp jokes.
I was wondering if they were all going to go out after hours to the gravel pit and get all dirty sliding around on their rears... and was reminded when we lived in Seattle next to a large park and beach. For Rose's birthday we thought we would go the park in the dark to the beach... such excitement for a bunch of 12 year-olds. My next door neighbor was walking down with us also. 12 year old girls being naturally squeally we thought they could get their hollering out of their system at the beach and through the forest before I was trapped in a house with them overnight. So halfway down the trail said friend disappears ahead of us down a trail. We head down the main road toward the beach, me and a dozen girls. It is dark. Evergreen trees leaning over the road. The gals are clustered around me as we hike down the hill to the beach. A truck drives by us heading uphill toward the exit. Then, a few minutes later, the truck is back... directly behind us a few yards. With their lights off. And shaded windows that I could not see in to who was driving. Once the girls noticed we were being followed, they began to freak out. Who out there is familiar with group psychology of girls? Not pretty, and we were about 1/2 mile from home. With no one around. And my neighbor somewhere down the trail and not able to hear me when I was calling her. Here we were out having an exciting evening of night beach visits and we are being shadowed by a truck of creepers. My inclination was to tear those truck boys a new somethingerather, I was that pissed that they thought that would be funny.
The main thing I have thought of since this is what sort of people in the truck thought it was funny to intimidate a gaggle of prepubescent girls like a scene out of a bad horror flick? They must have felt very powerless within their own lives to get a charge outta that.
The boring end of story is : called home and Dennis came and got the kids in the minivan, called neighbor on trail to go home, and I did not get to kick anyone's truck butt.
Wish me luck for this weekend. I think we will "do nails."

Whirlwind of Anger and Bad Parenting

Today is the first Easter in my life spent alone. Yes, yes, I suppose I am feeling sorry for myself. I am still at heart a spoiled only child. And therefore, what did I do when the kids arrived this evening from their weekend at dads? Called their father to the carpet for not even registering it was Easter (still a big deal at my house) the importance of his involvement with his son, and my extreme desire not to have to tell him these things since I am not in that wife role any longer. Then I moved on to our son, who was procrastinating about school work. Then I nailed Rose about her brothers hair. (can you see this is starting to become non-sensical anger?)
Rose came downstairs after the lights were out to have a heart to heart with me about how inappropriate and mean what I said was. And that she thought I should apologize. And she was right. When I think about what I said it makes me cringe. So not like me, but so very like me to attack in that manner when I feel like crap. I apologized. And she shed her traditional "tears of frustration" at me. Funny when a 14 year old can switch maturity level with a 45 year old.
Then to top off the evening I sent a volatile email off to a good friend that the timing is very inconvenient for her stress levels. Or mine for that matter. I suppose that is another post.
At age 45 I have finally figured out that when I am angry, it is actually fear. That is so difficult for me to claim, since I would always define myself as fearless. Cautious yes, but fear, no. But fear is very present when I roll into this sort of erratic nastiness. So I suppose my next 45 years will be finding out where this fear comes from and how to not make those I love miserable when I am threatened. Sigh. Well, that does give me some time....