My goodness. I am tired today. Oh, wait, I was tired yesterday, too. And the day before. This semester has been outstandingly exhausting. I always, always, always have something that I have to do. Something that needs to be taken care of. One more item off a to-do list that has no end, no end whatsoever! I feel like I am battling my own life. I never thought that working part-time and going to school was a big deal, I have been doing it for 6 out of my 7 semesters here at SUU. There is just something particularly overwhelming about this semester. I think I know a few reasons.
First, printmaking. To all those people who said, "Just finish that art minor, you won't regret it." Oh. Do I ever. This class has been so extensively hard on me that sometimes I just feel like never going and failing it. We are constantly, constantly working on something. I work my butt off for two straight weeks trying to finish a monster of a lino-cut, just to immediately start searching for an image for my duotone. I finished that in two days, then he immediately starts encouraging us to find an idea for a hand cut film. I just found an image a week ago. I don't have any other ideas. As for Photoshop: I hate you. You never do what I want.
Second, work. Yes, I have had this job for almost a year and a half now, you'd think I'd be used to the insanity that goes down here. I'm not. This semester, I get to waste tons of gas driving to different schools to teach children about art. I drove 150 miles in the first two weeks of October just for the education program. Kill me, this thing still has like 3 weeks.
I feel about as exhausted as I usually feel one week before the semester ends. We just barely passed midterms. I can't believe the toll this semester has taken on me. Come on, December 15th, just get here already!!!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Losing you . . .
Saturday I lost my grandparents. I know this is a more appropriate way to start a eulogy than what this post is really about, but they may as well be dead.
I have never really written anything too personal on this thing, but I have to put these thoughts somewhere. And since I have no followers, why not?
Things have been bumpy with my maternal grandparents from day 1: parents start dating. I have always known my dad's feelings towards my grandpa, and when I was too young, I sided with my mother (gender-identified role model). However, as time has gone on, and I have dissected my childhood summers of spending time with them, I have realized something. My grandpa is pretty much a douche bag.
Could someone explain to me how an old man could possibly feel good about himself screaming his lungs hoarse at children under 10 years of age? How do you not feel like a dick? And I'm not saying that you couldn't do it if the child had actually done something wrong, but that's the thing. I remember getting yelled at for the most inane, absurd reasons. We would go camping in their trailer, and my brother and I would have to sleep on the floor in the main room. When we would roll over in the sleeping bags, the trailer would rock a little. Because its a trailer. It's on wheels. But I remember my grandpa screaming from the bedroom, "YOUR ROCKING THE WHOLE DAMN TRAILER!!!" Okay. What the crap am I supposed to do?
I also remember when I was stuck without my brother on a trip with them and they left me in the trailer with their stupid dogs while they went somewhere. I was probably 12. I sat on the couch and drew pictures. I glanced up at the room after about an hour and noticed that the dog had "done its business" all over the rug. I immediately tried to get the rug outside and try to clean it up, but seconds after I had noticed the "incident," my grandparents arrived. Boy, was the subject of ridicule for the rest of the trip. That was about three days. I was a "stupid" child who couldn't notice anything going on around her because she is so busy watching TV and being a retard. Apparently. I'm sorry I can't hear the sound of pooping?
Besides getting yelled at every single day I spent with them, there is also the way my grandpa deals with the world. Everyone is wrong. "Why are you doing it like that? You should do it like this. This way would be better and faster. I don't care if I don't know anything about it or know what your preferences are, you are wrong. Shut up." This was the thing that drove my dad crazy for so many years. My dad likes doing things right. My grandpa likes doing things fast. These ideas do not often align.
So we have been dealing with this nonsense for about 30 or so years. My brother has finally had enough. I don't blame him. Last summer, my parents remodeled a house, and my grandparents came over from Texas to stay for a few months to get it underway. My brother spent many hours out there helping. Or should I say, my brother spent many hours out there being criticized. It would drive any person crazy.
A few months ago, my grandpa sent my mother a hate-email. I don't know the exact contents, but I know that it basically slammed on my family big time. Key points: Dad and Cory are worthless and don't do anything right, Cory and I are ungrateful grandchildren, grandpa wants nothing to do with us. This made everyone really upset, especially my mom. She went several weeks without talking to them.
Then, last week, my grandma called my mom to announce that they were coming over to see Kimball, my new nephew. Whaaaat?? Didn't you say you hated us?
So they show up. My grandpa is acting like absolutely nothing has happened. Everything is peachy-keen and delightful. No one is buying this. My brother and sister-in-law are really upset that my grandpa has said all these really hateful things, but still shows up expecting for them to hand over the baby for them to coddle like they are decent great-grandparents or something. Not going to fly in this family.
So we all gather at Cory and Brittany's house under the guise of "meeting Kimball." But before Brittany hands him over, she says, "We wanted to bring you two here today to talk. You sent us a really hurtful email, but you still show up here acting like nothing has happened. We are still really hurt by the things you said, and we want to understand what is going on here better. We want to put hard feelings behind us."
Immediately my grandpa is like, "I don't know what email you are talking about. I didn't send a hurtful email." My parents immediately start saying some of the things the email said. (I applaud my dad for keeping his temper. He has been wanting to tell my grandpa whats-what for years.) Suddenly (and yet not so suddenly at all, because I was expecting it), my grandpa stands up and heads for the door saying, "Well, I can see that we have just been called here for an inquisition, so I think I'm leaving." My brother, who had been successfully holding back until that point, stands up, heads for the doorway and blocks my grandpa's path. "You're not leaving." Grandpa vs. Cory. (Grandpa: 5'6", Cory: 6'3"). Yeah, he sat back down. But continued to pout throughout the whole thing.
Cory then lights into him with as much self control as could be expected of someone who has been harboring hatred for 25 years. He basically told him the things I have already listed as background in this post. We have spent our whole lives being yelled at and being told we do everything wrong. He treats everyone like they are below him and he is the most disrespectful person in the world. Cory wanted an apology and wanted him to stop treating everyone around him like idiots. My grandma was really offended when Cory brought up being yelled at as kids. She said, "Geez, I didn't know spending two weeks with us could possibly screw you up so badly." (She was putting words in Cory's mouth like crazy; neither grandparent has any fair fighting skills.) My grandpa said, "All I see is a room full of ungrateful people." Oh, I didn't realize we were supposed to thank you for treating us like vermin. Gotcha.
I stayed out of it. This is in a metaphorical sense, because I was in the middle of the room, and, therefore, quite in the thick of it. I couldn't muster up the nerve to say anything at all, except once when I said, "He never said that" when my grandma was putting words in Cory' mouth. Basically, I was shaking and terrified of saying anything. I have a really irrational fear of getting hit when people get mad at me. I don't know why. I wasn't hit as a child.
Anyway, things escalated a lot, and by the time my grandma was just as ready to leave as my grandpa, Cory was just mad enough to let them go. I had left the room to try to find a tissue (I was bawling), and my mom came dashing from the room with inconsolable tears. What in the world is happening? I though. This cannot possibly be real. Things usually work out, even after they have gotten pretty hard. We can't possibly be losing our grandparents. They care about us more to walk out of our lives.
They don't.
I could hear my brother yelling after them as the ascended the staircase to the front door.
"You will never have anything to do with Kimball. You're walking out of our lives. I hope you're happy."
I hope you're happy. That sentence has been ringing in my mind constantly for these two days since it happened.
I hope you're happy.
In retrospect, it's not really the worst thing in the world. My grandparents only showed their faces every once in a while. They call my mother every few weeks, but mostly, I don't hear from them. I have realized that my grandpa is even more of an arrogant a** hole than I thought. Gosh, I have never met anyone so stubborn and conceited. He said, "I'm sorry I ruined your life." Cory said, "Are you really sorry?" And grandpa spat back in his face, very much like a 2-year-old, "NO!"
They blamed Cory for being miserable all those summers ago. "Why didn't you say anything?" "Why didn't you tell your mom you didn't want to come?" Really? You blame a 5-year-old kid for not thinking rationally enough to come up with that, rather than own up to your own stupid problems? What arrogant people.
I am slightly glad it happened. It gave my dad the chance to say some really nice things about us. He was referring to the email where my grandpa called us worthless and ungrateful. My dad said that his children are his favorite people in the world, and that he wouldn't trade us for anyone or anything in the world. He also said that he respects the people we have become and loves being around us. I must say, despite all the ugliness of that day, it was really nice to hear.
I have decided to use my psychology-brain to call them out on their personality disorders. They have to have them. They are too obnoxiously oblivious to themselves to not have one. Grandpa has Narcissistic Personality Disorder and grandma is Codependent. Look it up.
I hope you're happy.
We'll see what the coming months bring. But I am not particularly hopeful.
I have never really written anything too personal on this thing, but I have to put these thoughts somewhere. And since I have no followers, why not?
Things have been bumpy with my maternal grandparents from day 1: parents start dating. I have always known my dad's feelings towards my grandpa, and when I was too young, I sided with my mother (gender-identified role model). However, as time has gone on, and I have dissected my childhood summers of spending time with them, I have realized something. My grandpa is pretty much a douche bag.
Could someone explain to me how an old man could possibly feel good about himself screaming his lungs hoarse at children under 10 years of age? How do you not feel like a dick? And I'm not saying that you couldn't do it if the child had actually done something wrong, but that's the thing. I remember getting yelled at for the most inane, absurd reasons. We would go camping in their trailer, and my brother and I would have to sleep on the floor in the main room. When we would roll over in the sleeping bags, the trailer would rock a little. Because its a trailer. It's on wheels. But I remember my grandpa screaming from the bedroom, "YOUR ROCKING THE WHOLE DAMN TRAILER!!!" Okay. What the crap am I supposed to do?
I also remember when I was stuck without my brother on a trip with them and they left me in the trailer with their stupid dogs while they went somewhere. I was probably 12. I sat on the couch and drew pictures. I glanced up at the room after about an hour and noticed that the dog had "done its business" all over the rug. I immediately tried to get the rug outside and try to clean it up, but seconds after I had noticed the "incident," my grandparents arrived. Boy, was the subject of ridicule for the rest of the trip. That was about three days. I was a "stupid" child who couldn't notice anything going on around her because she is so busy watching TV and being a retard. Apparently. I'm sorry I can't hear the sound of pooping?
Besides getting yelled at every single day I spent with them, there is also the way my grandpa deals with the world. Everyone is wrong. "Why are you doing it like that? You should do it like this. This way would be better and faster. I don't care if I don't know anything about it or know what your preferences are, you are wrong. Shut up." This was the thing that drove my dad crazy for so many years. My dad likes doing things right. My grandpa likes doing things fast. These ideas do not often align.
So we have been dealing with this nonsense for about 30 or so years. My brother has finally had enough. I don't blame him. Last summer, my parents remodeled a house, and my grandparents came over from Texas to stay for a few months to get it underway. My brother spent many hours out there helping. Or should I say, my brother spent many hours out there being criticized. It would drive any person crazy.
A few months ago, my grandpa sent my mother a hate-email. I don't know the exact contents, but I know that it basically slammed on my family big time. Key points: Dad and Cory are worthless and don't do anything right, Cory and I are ungrateful grandchildren, grandpa wants nothing to do with us. This made everyone really upset, especially my mom. She went several weeks without talking to them.
Then, last week, my grandma called my mom to announce that they were coming over to see Kimball, my new nephew. Whaaaat?? Didn't you say you hated us?
So they show up. My grandpa is acting like absolutely nothing has happened. Everything is peachy-keen and delightful. No one is buying this. My brother and sister-in-law are really upset that my grandpa has said all these really hateful things, but still shows up expecting for them to hand over the baby for them to coddle like they are decent great-grandparents or something. Not going to fly in this family.
So we all gather at Cory and Brittany's house under the guise of "meeting Kimball." But before Brittany hands him over, she says, "We wanted to bring you two here today to talk. You sent us a really hurtful email, but you still show up here acting like nothing has happened. We are still really hurt by the things you said, and we want to understand what is going on here better. We want to put hard feelings behind us."
Immediately my grandpa is like, "I don't know what email you are talking about. I didn't send a hurtful email." My parents immediately start saying some of the things the email said. (I applaud my dad for keeping his temper. He has been wanting to tell my grandpa whats-what for years.) Suddenly (and yet not so suddenly at all, because I was expecting it), my grandpa stands up and heads for the door saying, "Well, I can see that we have just been called here for an inquisition, so I think I'm leaving." My brother, who had been successfully holding back until that point, stands up, heads for the doorway and blocks my grandpa's path. "You're not leaving." Grandpa vs. Cory. (Grandpa: 5'6", Cory: 6'3"). Yeah, he sat back down. But continued to pout throughout the whole thing.
Cory then lights into him with as much self control as could be expected of someone who has been harboring hatred for 25 years. He basically told him the things I have already listed as background in this post. We have spent our whole lives being yelled at and being told we do everything wrong. He treats everyone like they are below him and he is the most disrespectful person in the world. Cory wanted an apology and wanted him to stop treating everyone around him like idiots. My grandma was really offended when Cory brought up being yelled at as kids. She said, "Geez, I didn't know spending two weeks with us could possibly screw you up so badly." (She was putting words in Cory's mouth like crazy; neither grandparent has any fair fighting skills.) My grandpa said, "All I see is a room full of ungrateful people." Oh, I didn't realize we were supposed to thank you for treating us like vermin. Gotcha.
I stayed out of it. This is in a metaphorical sense, because I was in the middle of the room, and, therefore, quite in the thick of it. I couldn't muster up the nerve to say anything at all, except once when I said, "He never said that" when my grandma was putting words in Cory' mouth. Basically, I was shaking and terrified of saying anything. I have a really irrational fear of getting hit when people get mad at me. I don't know why. I wasn't hit as a child.
Anyway, things escalated a lot, and by the time my grandma was just as ready to leave as my grandpa, Cory was just mad enough to let them go. I had left the room to try to find a tissue (I was bawling), and my mom came dashing from the room with inconsolable tears. What in the world is happening? I though. This cannot possibly be real. Things usually work out, even after they have gotten pretty hard. We can't possibly be losing our grandparents. They care about us more to walk out of our lives.
They don't.
I could hear my brother yelling after them as the ascended the staircase to the front door.
"You will never have anything to do with Kimball. You're walking out of our lives. I hope you're happy."
I hope you're happy. That sentence has been ringing in my mind constantly for these two days since it happened.
I hope you're happy.
In retrospect, it's not really the worst thing in the world. My grandparents only showed their faces every once in a while. They call my mother every few weeks, but mostly, I don't hear from them. I have realized that my grandpa is even more of an arrogant a** hole than I thought. Gosh, I have never met anyone so stubborn and conceited. He said, "I'm sorry I ruined your life." Cory said, "Are you really sorry?" And grandpa spat back in his face, very much like a 2-year-old, "NO!"
They blamed Cory for being miserable all those summers ago. "Why didn't you say anything?" "Why didn't you tell your mom you didn't want to come?" Really? You blame a 5-year-old kid for not thinking rationally enough to come up with that, rather than own up to your own stupid problems? What arrogant people.
I am slightly glad it happened. It gave my dad the chance to say some really nice things about us. He was referring to the email where my grandpa called us worthless and ungrateful. My dad said that his children are his favorite people in the world, and that he wouldn't trade us for anyone or anything in the world. He also said that he respects the people we have become and loves being around us. I must say, despite all the ugliness of that day, it was really nice to hear.
I have decided to use my psychology-brain to call them out on their personality disorders. They have to have them. They are too obnoxiously oblivious to themselves to not have one. Grandpa has Narcissistic Personality Disorder and grandma is Codependent. Look it up.
I hope you're happy.
We'll see what the coming months bring. But I am not particularly hopeful.
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