ImPerceptibility

Archive for April, 2009

Thanks to Lisa at What the heck was she thinking? for posting this.  I love these type of quizzes.  It was almost as fun as the Dante’s Inferno Quiz even though we already knew I was destined to hell as a lustful heretic.  But who knew I was also a Quaker? A lustful, heritical, Quaker.  Well, God Damn!

The top score on the list below represents the faith that Belief-O-Matic, in its less than infinite wisdom, thinks most closely matches your beliefs. However, even a score of 100% does not mean that your views are all shared by this faith, or vice versa.

Belief-O-Matic then lists another 26 faiths in order of how much they have in common with your professed beliefs. The higher a faith appears on this list, the more closely it aligns with your thinking.

I know there was something. I try to remember but it doesn’t all come to me clearly. It was just too long ago. Sometimes I see river banks, poison ivy, and beer bottles. Other times I see ocean waves, sand, and blenders. Most of the time I see nothing but I feel a longing. A longing for something I wish had been there but I know it wasn’t. It wasn’t there but we all pretended.

On a good night, or maybe a bad night depending on your perspective, I see many things. Flashes of a past that I forced my way through and didn’t push against any of you hard enough to find my own way. I don’t regret it. I just sometimes wish it was different. That’s not regret, right?

A few of the more ridiculous flashes from the past:

Trucks in the mud and sailor caps
Corn chips, hot dogs, and beer
An abandoned home made our playground
A sink ripped off the wall
What the hell were we thinking?

Spinning bottles after tasting wine
Bouncing quarters
Smoke in the air
Wet sloppy kisses after I tackled you on the floor
I loved how you begged me for more
I loved how the others were jealous
I loved you too much to fuck you
That’s just the way it was.

Interrupted by sirens and lights.
Running fast, then faster
I fell and scraped my knee
They never caught us
We’d meet again
I think I heard them laughing.
Damn cops.

Bulldozers making new roads
lots where soon there’d be homes
A pickup parked at the end
I painted a picture for you
Then I threw it away
I should have burned it

I thought I was, but I wasn’t the bad guy
Everyone but you and me knew that.
I finally figured it out
Too bad you never did

Stupid fucking bastard!
I hated you when I shoved you into the wall
How’d we end up doing that?
Why’d you keep coming back?
Why did you stop?
More importantly, why’d you break my monkey lamp?

There’s more but I won’t torture you guys anymore. Anyone want to flash me? I haven’t been flashed in awhile. I haven’t been asked to flash anyone lately either. What’s up with that?

I can’t believe the school year is almost over. Less than two months and I get to have my oldest back at home with me. I’m really looking forward to it and I’m counting down the days. She’s such a fun kid and her little sister misses her a lot more than she would ever admit to. We haven’t discussed next year but I think she’ll probably go back to public school. She’s made a bunch of friends and enjoys all her classes. Even English. She’s definitely grown up in the last year. Or maybe me not standing over her shoulder all the time gave me enough room to see that she’s growing up. It’s hard to tell about those things. I don’t have a problem with her going back to school next year. She’s happy and learning, but I’m seriously aggravated with the school system itself.  Public Schools suck!

I don’t know what the hell has happened to public schools since I was a kid but they need to get their act together. Maybe it’s all the hippyish teaching philosophies or some new educational technique but they are not on the ball. What happened to the boring classrooms with desks all in a row and mind numbing posters on the walls? What’s up with the tables and chairs. Why are these kids working together in groups? You should not have basketball playoff charts hanging on the wall! That’s what I do. I’m an educational anarchist. You are not. You are a school and you should try and look like one.

And aren’t teachers supposed to be old and have moles with hair sticking out of them. What’s up with hiring 24yo cuties to teach history. JFC! He even looks sweet in a sweater vest. Good thing my oldest isn’t into boys yet. She’d never learn a thing. The other teachers aren’t any better. Walking around smiling and interacting with the kids. I even saw one of them telling the kids jokes. You are supposed to be in the teachers lounge smoking cigarettes and complaining. This is unacceptable.

Don’t even get me started on the homework. My oldest spends about 30-40 minutes a week working on homework and she likes the projects and assignments. Creating book jackets, making her own math reference book, and building model airplanes are my territory. Your assignments need to take this form : Complete all the odd problems on page 256. Read pages 192-365 and answer the review question in complete sentences. I don’t think my oldest has even opened her Math book. Freakin’ slackers! Creative assignments have no place in a school. Get back to the books.

Don’t get me started on the extra credit projects, enrichment activities, or fun Friday. You don’t show kids movies and call it school. Educational anarchists do that. Cut it out and also stop letting them use the internet for research. Technology is not for schools. Eleven year old school children shouldn’t be making power point presentations. Playing Dance Dance Revolution in PE class is just wrong! Push-ups and running laps in the heat. Sit-ups and kick ball in the mud. Get with the program.

Then there is the bullying and violence. You guys need to step it up. She heard there was a fight one day in the cafeteria but she didn’t see it. She thinks the eigth graders sometimes fight but she’s not sure. No one has stolen any lunch money either. A fat kid did steal her snack cake out of her lunch but she left her lunchbox out in the hall and she figured it was fair game. He did leave the Cheez-its so she was okay with it. Public schools are breeding grounds for violence and bullying. I expect better!

But mostly, you need to stop making her like school. School is not fun. Get it straight. You bunch of asses. I let her go school so she would appreciate what she already had. You went and took it, then made it better. Screw you!

My only hope now is that she’ll get bored with her classes and want to come back home. Maybe take some classes at the community college in a few years. So cut out the advanced classes and that differentiated instruction crap. You want to make a mother cry, you jerks?

I stopped by that evening. Didn’t you see me there. My insecurity creeping it’s way out from me and around the room. Weaving itself like ribbons around me and covering me in doubt. Eyes of strangers were watching me as I retreated into myself.

I stood just inside the door. My eyes scanning the room but not really seeing. Faces I wouldn’t remember in the morning looking at me. Strangers that at one time could have been friends are now obstacles that I must make my way through to get to where I was going. I felt vulnerable and alone, on display in a room of friends and I was a stranger.

You greeted me and I gave you a quick hug. There was no affection, I didn’t want to hug you. I just wanted the feelings to go away and they did, briefly. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to pretend. Other times, it does.

We talked for awhile. I felt the gazes move off of me and on to more interesting things. I started to relax. You were busy drinking. Then in one short sentence you hurt me.

I don’t think you meant what you said. I think you were just teasing me. But doubt and insecurity snapped tight around me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. You tried to take it back, to make it less hurtful but it was too late. For a minute I saw the person you use to be then he was gone. I stepped back and wanted to get away from you. Their eyes were watching me again. Seeing how I’d react. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling and headed for the door. Pretended to be fine as I said goodbye. I smiled and waved as I walked out acting like I didn’t care. Pretending I had better things to do.

The tears didn’t come as I drove home alone. I hid them from myself just as securely as I hid them from you. I wasn’t in the mood to cry but I would be later. And I did. MyHusband held me as I tried to explain. He tried to understand but he just doesn’t get it and that’s alright. It doesn’t matter if he understands. It just matters that he wants to.

I’ve been very negative about myself lately. I’ve criticized myself about everything. I’m fat, I look old, my boobs are too big, I spend too much time on the computer, I’m a crappy parent, I’m terrible in bed, I don’t keep the house clean enough, I’m socially inept, no one really likes me, I really need to shave my legs more often… the list goes on.

The weird thing is I think I like mentally abusing myself because I’ve been pretty happy the last couple of days. It seems that if you think you’re a total loser there isn’t any pressure. Just getting up in the morning is an achievement. If a total loser cleans the kitchen then they are doing a good thing. When a loser mom goes to lunch with her kids it’s meaningful. When a loser wife makes her husband fall back on the bed gasping for breath and proclaim, “God Damn! That was so very good” she’s accomplished something. The best part is losers don’t have to feel guilty about spending time on the computer and losers don’t have to shave their legs unless they want to. So what I’m saying is that I’m glad I’m a loser.

If I wasn’t such a loser I’d write one of those stupid motivation books. I’d title it, “Fuck it. Your a Loser and It Just Doesn’t Mater.” Millions, no, billions of copies would be sold and I’d become rich and famous. Then I’d retire to a small farm somewhere and live the rest of my life as a rich and famous loser. It would be a good life. Being a loser just might work out for me. We’ll see.

I turned the page to the next blank page in my pad of paper and found this. 

I was already having a good day and this made it just a little better.  I have no idea when this was drawn but it was definitely done by my youngest.  Aren’t surprises great.