New Year's Eve

So I could dance around this, I guess, but I won't.  I think I fucking hate this holiday.  Don't get me wrong, I'm as sentimental as the next person.  I like the drama and the suspense, the excitement of the year to come.

What I don't like is the unsettled feeling I get when I start realizing that I have nothing to do.  Now before you start ordering your appetizers for my pity party, understand that this is my fault.  I have invitations - not just invitations, but invites to things I would really like to do.  I'm just not doing any of it.  

I wish I had a good reason why.  There is a part of me that says "well, Amy, you aren't 26 anymore, just put your damned PJ's on and go to bed".  But there is that other part that just screams "I hate it up here!!!" really freaking loud, and wonders why in all these years, I haven't managed to find any like minded friends where going to an event for New Year's doesnt require a sleepover. 

I love my life.  I really do.  I have a wonderful husband who loves me to pieces.  I'm one of the lucky stepmoms whose kids don't hate her guts.   And that is why I have decided that I hate this holiday.  Because it makes me unhappy.  It makes me think about all the things I don't have, resent things that I can't control, and takes me away from what should be the calming peace of a happy life.  It makes me think about young Amy, not new Amy.  It convinces me that I was happier then - which I was not.  I was definitely not. 

I'm sure tomorrow will be fine - another day, with another year at the end of my checks.  But today, I just want a bit of a rewind.  I want to need a disco nap at about 8pm.  I want to make sure someone responsible calls "not it".  

Now if I could figure out how to combine THAT with my normal, day to day happy life... THAT would be something!!

All this GARBAGE

My brother says that I seem to accumulate an inordinate amount of trash.  My husband agrees. As I look at the trash can tonight, and try to figure out why this is just an Amy thing, I realized something obvious.


I'm the only one who ever throws anything away!


Everyone else seems to think that garbage miraculously finds its way into the trash can.  At least, that is what it seems to them.  Why wouldn't it?  I'm always walking around, picking up everyone else's crap.  Napkins?  Of course, they should be crumpled up on the plate where your food used to reside.  Pieces of paper?  Well, of course, leave them laying all over the counter - why should we be able to tell what color the countertop is?


I am proud to be the one who generates garbage.  It means that I am not allowing clutter to overwhelm my life.  If you want to be surrounded by the evidence of your day, knock yourself out.  For me, I'll proudly wear my "garbage hat".


You?  You just keep leaving your crap all over the place.  

No Means No.. Not Maybe

OK, look.  We all have these grandiose images of how we were as teenagers - like, I believe that I actually respected no.  Now before my mother laughs so hard that the earth shakes and swallows me whole, let me admit that this is not true.


I always believed that the reason I didn't listen was because my mother never told me her reasons for deciding things.  Not that I had to believe, nor was I owed a real explanation, but at least if she bothered to explain, I might have been able to climb inside her rationale.  So when I became an adult, I decided that being able to explain the rationale behind my decisions was paramount.  So much so that when I became a manager, I actually wrote it on my performance reviews "explains the rationale behind all decisions".  It was huge for me.


So when I became a stepparent, I thought, that's what I will do.  I'll explain the rationale behind my decisions.   Well, let me tell you.  Raising someone else's kids is hard work.  No.  It's really effing hard work.  Because all the things you wanted to start out doing weren't done- like saying NO and meaning it.  Like setting boundaries about who were the parents and who were the kids, and who had decision making power (umm.. the one with the paycheck WINS). Now, ok, so maybe all your ideas weren't right, and maybe they wouldn't have worked, but it sure would have been nice to try.


So here is my rant.


NO MEANS NO.  It doesn't mean try harder.  It doesn't mean I might be convinced later.  It certainly doesn't mean "oh please child, debate and argue with what I said".  And when you say can I do XYZ, and I say "no, because I let you do that today, and even though I asked you to be quiet or go outside with your loudness, you didn't".   To me, this is explaining myself.  Maybe not, who the hell knows.


So what do I expect?  I expect a teenager to say "oh, ok Amy that makes sense".  Apparently, I've left my mind somewhere on a side street because you all are now laughing saying "oh ya, a logical teenager, sure, that happens".  But goddamn it.  NO MEANS NO.


I think I am finally starting to understand where the phrase "because I said so" really came from.  It came from parents like me who got tired of trying to treat their kids like people who actually would listen, and figured "well, it doesn't matter, they don't care what I explain, it only creates a debate".


So why?  BECAUSE I SAID NO!

Back to work?

Happy, cheery... Trying so hard to be happy and cheery.

Truth is, its 7:15 in the morning, I'm awake because I start work again, and of COURSE my network access wasn't restored.

I hate to say this, but when I was the leader of this group, that never would have happened.

Ok.  That is most likely not true.  It would have, and could have happened.  But here is the big difference.

I promoted caring for people - and quite frankly, that shit just doesnt happen in my new world.  Don't get me wrong.  We care about the people in front of us, we care about our friends... But it used to be that if you saw ANYONE in IT needed something, they got priority - they were your family for crying out loud.  Nope.  Not anymore.

So here I am, waiting to work, but unable to clock in because some asshole didnt care enough to enable my user ID.

Fuckers.

Let's Love Like Cats

I was sitting here, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to write.  I mean, seriously, there are so many things that piss me off, so many things about the universe that I would change - I was all negasourous.  (Yes, that is an Amyism - get used to it, if you start reading these regularly you'll find a lot of those).  Then, I walked into my bedroom, and there on my bed lay two cats.


These cats have nothing in common, other than the unfortunate coincidence of being picked to be a part of my family.  One is almost two, the other, a six month old skittish little baby.  They were separated - one at the foot on my bed (on a freshly washed pile of clothes - how do they ALWAYS know?), the other up against my pillow.  The younger one (Ben) walked up to the older (Bad Kitty - yes, he knows and loves his name), and put his cat arms around him.  He started to clean him with long, loving strokes.


Before you say "oh GOD, is this another flippin crazy cat lover post, where she is going to ramble about her cats", I want you to take a step back and see the symmetry.  We live in a world where people believe they have little in common.  They choose to cross the street rather than show kindness to someone who is different.  Just for today - just once - stay on the same side of the street.  Realize that the woman who just literally bumped into your cart at Costco is exhausted - not rude.  Realize that the homeless children are NOT scammers - they are just hungry.  And spend a moment - just one, looking for the similarities in us all, rather than the differences.  


Most of all, respond to those difference as a cat.  Don't let it change you - don't be someone you are not.  Don't suddenly be sweet when you are sour.  But when someone is simply existing, respond with love.  And for crying out loud - when someone is mistreating another, respond with anger - because no creature deserves to be mistreated - no matter how inwardly miserable they may be.