Category: Can’t Make This Shit Up

Big Fight Over Little Woman

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, LifeLeave a comment

So my mother-in-law is here. Has been for over a week. I have no idea when she will be leaving and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.

First barrier…she speaks zero English and makes no attempt. At all.  I know enough Spanish and at least make an effort to communicate with her even if I have to bust out Google translate. Or play charades and look like a total fucking idiot. She doesn’t have to try apparently because she’s ’embarrassed’ she doesn’t understand or know English. Somehow that exempts her.

Second barrier…she is the one my husband caters to. Which I get to some degree, but for a marriage already struggling, this is not good.  I’m so fucking sick of being last and not having my feelings accounted for. It’s my house and my husband doesn’t seem to give two shits that I don’t feel like I have space in my own home.

Two examples: this Sunday I was looking for a cheese tray. An $8 cheese tray. It’s seemingly disappeared from our house. MIL saw it but after rearranging our fridge it’s no longer anywhere to be found. I can’t find a thing in my own kitchen because she puts everything away where she thinks it goes. She doesn’t bother to ask where it should go.  Why should it matter, just because it’s our house?!?  And then when I went to make breakfast she immediately started making something too. It was like Food Channel, but way more passive aggressive.  What in the actual fuck.

Third barrier…we don’t have any time for ourselves as a couple because she stays up and sits in the living room.  Wherever we are, there she is.  No fucking alone time whatsoever.

What the hubs doesn’t understand that I am not keen on having a virtual stranger in my home. We saw her a year ago and only because we traveled to her. Before that it was a year ago. This is only her second time even seeing V and she is almost 2. We’ve been married 8-1/2 years and this woman has made no attempt to get to know me. Her other daughter-in-laws?  She has them as contacts in her phone and speaks to them regularly. But not me. That part has been hurtful to me, and I feel as though I’m beyond attempting to be the one to make the effort or try.  I am done trying.  The kicker out of all this?  She typically has nothing to do with the hubs either except when he can do something for her, like fly her to see a different sibling.  Isn’t that nice?

Even now, I am sitting at our dining room table, while she is sitting by my husband, talking to him.  There’s no attempt to engage me in the conversation.  She can fuck off as far as I’m concerned.  I’d be counting the days until she leaves…but I don’t have any clue when she is fucking leaving.

I sincerely apologize for the amount of fucks in this post.  It’s either that, or lose my shit.  Although I may have already lost my shit.

“Wow! We’ve gotten a lot of cleaning done this weekend”

On By lilbear083In Can't Make This Shit UpLeave a comment

These should’ve been my husband’s last audible words… because the “we” he was speaking of was nonexistent. Unless of course you count the fact that he finally put away HIS clothes that had been laying in a pile (of defiance on my part) for over a week while I wrangled a toddler while 30 weeks pregnant so that I could simultaneously sweep, mop & sanitize the kitchen & dining room floor before moving onto vacuuming and shampooing the living room and hallways. I’m sure he took a 45 minute shit somewhere in that 90 minute window as well.

While he started load #1 of garage sale dishes in the dishwasher I moved on to picking up and cleaning –all- of the toys in the living room, basement, and toddler room. Cleaning up the baby room and trying to see what can fit where and how to make it “work” with cloth diapering. Doing all the laundry, whites, towels, sheets, toddler, him, me, animals, clean washer, etc. Cleaning all the bathrooms, even with shitty ventilation, I know, my bad, got a little high. He was on load #2 when I was done with all that, when I asked what he was doing while washing machine was doing it’s job… “looking up how much we can sell this stuff for, do you know this ONE plate goes for $30 on ebay, I just watched it sell after three bids”… yes ladies and gentlemen, he was monitoring ebay for dishes I bought knowing I’d sell a few since we have zero need for 23 coffee mugs, 22 dinner plates, 20 salad plates, 25 bread plates, 19 saucers, 6 tea cups, gravy boat & tray, 4 serving platters, 4 serving bowls, you get the idea, it’s a large set.

Side note on this: I grew up with my grandparents mostly who had this set of Cornell that I later found out was called “crazy daisy” which made total since that my grandmother would’ve picked it out in the 70’s since her name was Daisy. It was the ONE thing I wanted when my grandparents went because that shit survived kids & teenagers for two generations, certainly it could survive in my house. Well, we moved, I packed up two boxes of the set and happily took them with me. My husband had a friend who needed help and we moved him in… only for him to screw us royally and make it clear that if a 40 year old doesn’t have his shit together, don’t let him move in with you to try to help him get his shit together… long story short, my two boxes went missing when he left… I was crushed. I scored a couple of small sets off ebay before last thanksgiving and it was perfect, and about $89 after shipping. The part about this set that makes me additionally happy is that my husband grew up with the exact same set, the first time he came over to help me clean up my grandparents’ house he did a double take in the kitchen and starting laughing. So when I saw that my neighbors had this huge, giant, colossal set of crazy daisy I didn’t even hesitate. She said “oh those? Make me an offer” $100! She laughs. $200! “that’s not why I’m laughing, how about $50 for the set?” … If I weren’t wearing my toddler on my back I would’ve been jumping up and down, while laughing at her terrible negotiation skills, I told her about my two small sets that I paid almost $100 for after shipping and started to beg her to take the $100… she didn’t but couldn’t believe they were worth anything… so yea… the husband doing research on them… I can see taking up some time.

But when you see me recruiting our toddler to help me drag laundry hampers down the stairs maybe get off your ass and help out instead of watching ebay.

I’m convinced he is only alive still because I was too exhausted to hide the body…

-Ella

Mean Girls

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, LifeLeave a comment

Last night, we were at a friend’s house watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics.  The usual group of suspects.  As we were watching the parade of nations, we happened to keep noticing people in the march that didn’t look like athletes.  They typically were older, not as an in shape as an Olympic athlete would be.  One of my girlfriends had said, “Who are these people?”  But her commentary didn’t stop there.

She went on to say she didn’t know fat people could participate in the Olympics.  Then she looked right at me and said, “Robin, who knew?!?  Someone should have told us that you could be fat and be in the Olympics!  We may have been Olympians.”

Fuck you.  Fuck you so much.  I wanted to cry at her comment but somehow managed not to.  I was, however, stunned enough, not to utter a single reply in return.  I simply stared at her in disbelief that those words had just come out of her mouth.

Why do girls have to make such mean comments to each other?  Admittedly, I know that I am overweight, but for fuck’s sake, do you have to straight out call me fat to my face?   And in front of a big group of people?  Hearing those words really stung.

I have struggled with my weight for my entire adult life.  I don’t need someone to remind me that I’m overweight.  I don’t need someone to put me down.  I’ve had a lifetime of dealing with family that have put me down and made fun of me for my weight.  I don’t want or need to be “included” in someone’s insults or putdowns because they don’t feel good about themselves.  Hell, most days I don’t feel that great about myself, but I sure as shit don’t go around calling myself fat.   That helps nothing and no one.  Ugh, I’m still so upset about it today that I could cry again.

I don’t believe she was trying to be intentionally malicious.  I really don’t.  I do think she was trying to do a whole sister solidarity thing by lumping us together in the fat girl camp, but what she doesn’t realize is that she lost a friend last night.

And one last time, I want to say to her (if only in my head) , “Fuck you for hurting my feelings.”

Do You Even See Me?

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, Life, RelationshipsLeave a comment

I’m sitting here, it’s barely 8AM, and I’ve been awake for over 4 hours already.  Our kiddo has been having frequent wake ups, which I attribute to our turn and burn Seattle trip.  And I am fucking exhausted.  Her last wakeup at 3:45AM the husband got up to soothe her, but after about 30 minutes of her crying for momma and boo boo, he relented and she came running into our bedroom.  And yet, in a middle of the night parenting conversation, tells me he doesn’t want her to be nursing all the time.  Um, OK.  You let her come nurse because you couldn’t get her back to sleep…so do you not want her to nurse at all, or only when it’s convenient for you?  Do you even see my exhaustion?  Do you even see that I’m completely out of gas?

I’m the kind of exhausted where you feel drunk without the alcohol induced euphoria.  Everything feels woozy.  I feel sick to my stomach.  I tried to get her back to sleep around 5:30, when the hubs left for the gym, but she only slept for about 45 minutes.  Momma did not sleep.  Laid in bed with that tired wired feeling where you are too amped up to get any shut eye.

The day trudges on and gives zero fucks about my tiredness.  I discovered yesterday that our dog has blood in his piss, so I have a vet appointment at 9AM.  At 1PM, I have a 2 hour appointment for paperwork and other stuff related to my new job.  Dinner needs to get made because the toddler probably wants to eat.  The house really needs to be cleaned but that ain’t happening anytime soon.  I’m trying to find backup childcare for V because my husband told me 2 days ago that he plans to head to the Netherlands next week for work.  Monday night.  Thanks for leaving me alone for my first week on a new job.  I want to find someone in case she is sick or needs to come home from daycare, because I do not want to have to leave early during the day from my new job.  I want to scream at him, “Do you even realize all that I’ll have to do on my own while you are halfway around the fucking world?!?”  The answer, of course, is no.

He doesn’t see that I’ve quit asking for a date night, because I’m tired of telling him that it’s important that we have 1-1 time together for our relationship.  He doesn’t see that I’ve quit asking to go to couples therapy because it obviously isn’t a priority for him.  He doesn’t even see that I’ve stopped asking to have weekly discussions on finances and parenting because I’m the only one to initiate and I’m sick of bringing it up.  He doesn’t see that I have no energy or desire to fuck him at all.  He doesn’t see how tired I am of asking and asking for him to help me with things around the house that I’ve decided it’s a waste of my breath and precious energy.  He doesn’t see the imposition he puts upon me when he decides last minute to travel for business.  He doesn’t see all that I do.  Nor does he appreciate it either.  He doesn’t see that not only am I running on fumes, that our relationship is running on fumes too.

He doesn’t even see.  He doesn’t even see me.  At all.

Much Ado About Nothing

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, LifeLeave a comment

I finally had my biopsy appointment last Friday. After getting an ultrasound first, talking to tech, then radiologist I was told, “I don’t see anything to biopsy. This all looks like normal breast tissue.”  

Um what?!?  The radiologist felt the lump that had brought me there in the first place and she said the shape and size weren’t worrisome and the ultrasound images didn’t show anything. She wanted to do a 3D mammogram to be sure. So I got my tit squished for that. 

After looking at the mammo, she sat with me and told me there was nothing to biopsy. She said that more than likely it was a fat lobule and those are completely normal. I was and still am dumbfounded. 

I went through 6 weeks of mental torture to have a very anticlimactic ending. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that I’m healthy. I feel kind of dumb about the whole thing. At least she didn’t say to me “I don’t feel anything.” (Which is what the previous doctor had told me.) The lump was real. I didn’t make it up and it was nice to have validation from someone of that. 

I am glad I had it checked out and happy to put it behind me. I would rather address it promptly rather than delay, delay, delay and then find something major. I don’t think I will return to the original imaging place where I had the mammogram done that started off this 6 weeks of worry and anxiety!  Asshats. 

Titanium Tit

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, LifeLeave a comment

I learned this week that I have a titanium bead as a marker from a previous breast biopsy. Four years ago I found a lump, went to my doctor, and had to undergo the nerve wracking process of a mammogram and biopsy. Thankfully it was benign. And I’m sure the doctors told me about the bead but hell I didn’t remember so it was news to me. How did I learn about my metal tittie this week?

Another lump. Another mammogram. I don’t know yet if I will need to have another biopsy. I should know  within the next week.

My life is so different than it was four years ago. I’m in a different city, I’m now a mom, and currently not working, but thankfully have health insurance through the hubs. Surprisingly I’m not at freak out level 5 this time. I’m trying to take this thing one step at a time. One doctor appointment at a time.

Have I thought about the whole ‘what if I have cancer’ scenario?  Of course, considering I lost my dad to cancer.  Have I thought about what the potential of breast cancer could be the end of?  Sure – breastfeeding my daughter, possible future babies, possible tittie loss. I’ve tried not to venture too far down that rabbit hole because it gets scary dark fast. All I can do is deal with things as they come. If they come.  This may turn out to be nothing. I don’t know yet.

It’s made me acutely aware of the present moments. Early this morning, I sat nursing my daughter at 4am, gently stroking her soft brown curls, thinking how lucky I am to have nourished her with milk from my body for over 17 months. Or sitting enjoying nature, feeling grateful I can see the sunset, feel the breeze on my face, hear the birds, smell the flowers and taste the salty ocean air.

I’m learning to be grateful for the smallest things.  For now, I’m in a wait and see situation.

I’ll Take The Shits for $350, please.

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, Kidlets, Life, RelationshipsLeave a comment

When you read that headline, isn’t that exactly what you envision for your anniversary?  No?  Well it wasn’t what I envisioned either…but that’s what happened.  And still happening.

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Dessert!

Let me set the scene for you.  We decided to take a trip to Napa for our anniversary with the kiddo in tow.  I had even found a local nanny service with terrific reviews so that the hubs and I could have some alone time.  He found a restaurant with great reviews, and booked us a reservation on our anniversary.  He even went so far as to let the restaurant know it was our anniversary too!  (Bonus points for him on this….I believe I owe him a quality BJ at some point for this good work.)

We got to the restaurant early and enjoyed this scenic view.

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View from our table

We sampled different Napa wines from their extensive list.  We had a delicious three course meal, with the chef even sending out two additional small plates for us, free of charge.  Seriously, the food was divine!  At one point, I had even said to the hubs, “I think I may have just come a little…” because the food was THAT good.

 

Our dinner was so good for a number of reasons.  We got the opportunity to talk about plans for the future, about things in our marriage we should keep doing, things we should start doing, things we should stop doing.  We had the rare opportunity to spend time with each other, without one of us being distracted with one eye trying to pay attention to our spouse and one eye watching our kiddo.

On our ride home, my stomach began to rumble very deeply.  I remember commenting that I didn’t feel so hot.  We get back to our hotel, pay the nanny, got the report on how V was, and then I exited to the bathroom where I shit the entire contents of my dinner out.  I was also feeling sick to my stomach, and I was praying to the porcelain god and any other god that would listen, that puking wouldn’t follow the diarrhea.  To be sick from one end is bad enough, but to have it coming out of both ends is truly awful.

We racked our brains trying to figure out what the offending dish may have been, as we both were pretty sure I had a case of food poisoning.  I think it was my 3rd course, which was squab.

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The offending dish (I’m sorry little squab)

It was supposed to be medium rare, but I think it was mostly rare.  I didn’t ask for them to cook it more, and in hindsight, I really should have.  Because I looked at it and thought “That’s too pink to eat” but ate it anyway.  And am now paying the consequences for my dumbass move.

 

And for those of you that may want to judge me for eating squab.  Please don’t as I’ve already beaten myself up enough over this.  You see, when I ordered, I thought squab was a type of pheasant.  Because we were in a fancy schmancy restaurant, I wasn’t going to be the unsophisticated type to ask “What is squab?” Growing up in the Midwest, I came from a hunting and fishing family, so we regularly ate wild game, including rabbit, squirrel, pheasant, deer, fish we caught, etc.  It was only later on that I googled and discovered that squab was pigeon.  Young pigeon. And I felt morally conflicted for having eaten a young pigeon.  The hubs didn’t help when he was jutting his neck in and out like pigeons do when they walk.

I’m writing this post 5 days after the dinner in question, and I’m still shitting my life away.  I’ve felt truly awful since Monday evening.  In addition to the diarrhea, I’ve felt bloated, gassy, nauseated, and just icky in general.  I dropped off the kiddo at daycare this morning, and as I walked to my car, I started crying, muttering to myself, “I just want to stop feeling like shit!”

Sigh.  At least was a memorable anniversary.  How about that for a positive spin?

P.S.  Had to post this real life pic from our trip.

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This is vacation with a toddler.  

Hubs was trying to get some nice pics of me and the kiddo together, because it’s almost always her and him in photos, with me behind the camera.  He managed to snap a pic of her pitching a fit, and me trying to protect her melon from making contact with the pavement.  I love the contrast of this beautiful scenery behind me, with a flailing child in front of me.  Ah, the joys of parenthood.

Wrapping this up so I can go shit my life away.  Again.

 

It’s a dozy of a rant for me

On By lilbear083In Can't Make This Shit Up, Life, RunningLeave a comment

Warning: I sound like a whining little bitch in this post. But I’m over pretending that it’s okay here, these are my issues for the last three years that are only getting worse now that the oil has “left” ND, it hasn’t the price just dropped and people had to leave. Once the demand goes back up there will be plenty of PEOPLE coming back to help you further rape the land for money.

I am SO fucking over living in Bismarck middle of fucking nowhere North Dakota. Privacy blah blah blah. No fuck this shit. I can’t say that I haven’t met and connected with some WONDERFUL people who I want to stay in touch with, and would even come back to visit, while I have lived survived here the last few years. But this weekend, was the pinnacle of what I call ND racists ignorant cock-sucking xenophobic asshats or ND-RICXA (rick-a) for short. I swear to jebus I am the last one to judge people without knowing as much as I can about a situation, THEN I’m judgymcjudgster while being a total bitch.

So even though I came out here thinking “North Dakota Nice” that’s got to be a good thing, less people so less traffic, less legislative sessions so they must have their shit together (they only meet once every 2 years while taking over the largest chunk of parking at the capitol), people are flocking there and staying thanks to the oil stuff so it must be a good area to raise kids, and housing prices are only going up so buying a house early is an investment.

Simply put, I was a naïve moron.

I’ve come to find that the people I’ve connected with the most, are the people that moved here within the last 5 years from GA, NY, CA, AZ, and CO. I have the world’s best neighbors who are beyond words wonderful, they are from here, moved around with military and came back because to call the mans family large would be an understatement. Family is super important out here, but most people don’t give a shit about anyone else’s, because they are the only people who matter. These people I love to call world’s best neighbors care about everyone, they are loving, inviting, beyond helpful, just… they are just the best people ever. Every time we even think about moving the one pro of being here is them, like what would we do being away from family AND not having them? Generally our conversation doesn’t get much farther after that.

I was informed by co-workers that “North Dakota Nice” is a form of frenemies, and sadly I’ve had to experience it as well. My first month here I tried to tap into Mary Kay meetings, since I had done it back home and thought it would be a good way to meet people outside of work. We had our “breakout” meetings and after a few minutes of business it was Sarah saying “Stacy did you ever talk to your son about that sleep over?” “Yes we just had to find a reason to ground him so he couldn’t go, we don’t want to be the bad guys”, I’m curious and say, “is his friend a bad kid or something?”, “oh no he’s wonderful but we don’t really KNOW the family” UNDERSTANDABLE… but wait, “they have only been here a few years, they aren’t FROM here, so I don’t think they are all that trustable”… that was her fucking reasoning. Her kid was in 3rd grade so he has gone to school with this friend since kindergarten, she says they’ve had play dates but they aren’t fucking from here so they must not be good enough. So instead of address the issue of their bogus mistrust they play ND NICE. Most basic example that we’ve all heard before is to say your baby is cute and turn around and tell their friend how horrid you/your baby is/looks, etc. Down to the workplace, sabotage for jobs, shit talking, etc. ALL while to your face they are nothing but wonderful, these are people I would call chicken shit back in CA but out here, this is just how most people are, which is beyond frustrating because you can’t tell who is really your friend. I used to think I was a decent judge of character but damn these people are good actors.

Less people and less traffic is still true, along with less traffic meaning people don’t pay attention to shit around them and put others’ lives in danger on the daily. I used to drive 9.7 miles to work while living in Los Angeles, it took anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour depending on when I left, and three freeway changes. Here, I live in the pseudo suburb’s and (look it up) there are only two “freeways” in the entire states, which I call glorified highways. I drive less than a mile through “town”, take a freeway for a couple of exits, down a main street and into the parking lot. I thought “my god this is going to be amazing! I’ll be so calm when getting to work, so much less stress, it only takes 15 minutes max to get to work and that’s if it’s bad snow,….” Stupid stupid STUPID me…  I can’t even make it to the onramp without a heavy case of road rage. Blinkers aren’t used, and I was used to that, you can watch people driving and pay enough attention to see when they’re going to start merging, I basically lived my entire driving life anticipating others movements. Out here, it’s fucking impossible. We drive a pickup that most people here call a car because it’s not some heavy duty diesel, which 90% of the population apparently drives. They change lanes without notice, they slow down for no reason, sometimes they take more than two blocks to fully merge, they are usually eating, they don’t seem to care about laws saying you can’t be on your phone while driving (talk or text), they will change their minds at the last second and go from off ramp to fast lane, they turn right from the left hand lane, fuck one guy STOPPED right in front of me and then screamed at me that I was going TOO fast once we got to a 2 lane stop light. I was going 20 in a 25 with only him around, fucker. I say “they” because while this is all young and dumb driver shit that some of us (cough cough me cough) have done before, this is what happens on a daily, less than 5 mile commute, to me every. Single. Fucking. Day. I’ve been rear ended 18 times in the last 3 years. EIGHTEEN TIMES. We replaced the bumper once and then said fuck it, it’s only going to happen again, not worth the deductible.

I miss the traffic in LA because it was so congested that you couldn’t do this shit. Whenever we go home to visit I drive because I feel so good to be in “real” traffic. Every day my life is on the line with these dipshits, who claim to be the best drivers ever. I don’t claim to be but I certainly don’t endanger others every fucking day. I speed like crazy most days and I own it, I have a lead foot and the quicker I get away from these shitheads the better. By the way, a speeding ticket, or any ticket for that matter is LAUGHABLE. I was going 90 to Fargo (because that’s my closest goddamn Costco) in a 65 or 70… My ticket was $40, no points, well some points but their point system is ridiculous, so it doesn’t even matter until you get a DUI (which doesn’t fucking matter to most people anyways, pay your mediocre fine and move on, no jail time, no license revoked, etc) so yea. I’ve gotten 4 speeding tickets in the last few years: my insurance never goes up, nothing shows on my driving record, and I’m out all of $65 total.  Do I speed with tickets so cheap? Absofuckinglutely.

I’m not going to get myself started on the bullshit that is the legislation here. I will say that they are the least transparent state in the entire US because of all the bullshit fraud, kickbacks, etc. They are at least 50 years behind in EVERYTHING, last session they said abortion after a heartbeat was detected was illegal, aka PLEASE SUE THE FUCK OUT OF US BECAUSE WE DON’T “recognize” Roe v Wade AFTER ALL WE HAVE A SHITTON OF MONEY, oh wait, no we don’t, we have cutbacks for state employees who are already making just over minimum wage with the worst healthcare EVER. … yea, won’t get myself started.

Don’t come out here to raise your kids, the school systems SUCK, the homeschooled kids get a better education, and there are nowhere NEAR enough private school options. Also, good luck finding daycare, I had to put my son on list for YMCA when I was 8 weeks pregnant, almost two years later, he’s STILL on a list… even after they expanded to a new building… I have one conversation burned into my mind regarding my daycare. Again, sweetest people ever but our agreement was he goes in early and comes home a little early. My daycare lady does it out of her home and has a night job as a cleaner so they HAVE to leave by a specific time, we agreed happily because we love them and she was our only hope. This woman NEVER takes a day off, she is a machine, I want to be like her when I grow up. We went on vacation, two days in her mother dies, obviously she wants/needs to take a week off. We come home, I’ve used all my vacation time on the trip with one sick day left while my husband has 90 more hours to use. We agree he will stay home with baby after the first day since I can stay home that day. He tells his boss before we even come home that he will need to miss a few days, he walks into work and while on the phone with me (baby is now sick, we have one car, needed him to come swap with me at lunch) tells his boss “I’m only here today but I can take my laptop home and work while baby is sleeping” asshole boss says “that’s fine, but why are you taking so much time?” (TWO DAYS) husband “our daycares mother died and she needs the week off” this is what is burned in my head forever: boss says “is she working for you or are you working for her?”… husband just walks away and quickly gets off the phone with me. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE… who says that? Long story short, if you don’t have family to rely on, one of you better stay home with kiddos until they are in school because everyone else here has HUGE families so when johnny is sick or daycare isn’t there everyone else just steps up and if you don’t have that system, well, sucks to be you.Especially if you’re a dude, because why doesn’t your wife just stay home? This is the reason I had no sick time left fucker, I WAS STAYING HOME when baby was sick.

We bought a house just before the bubble of housing hit so we got a decent deal, shitty land, but decent layout. Then we pumped $30k into the house to ‘finish’ it and we’re up so I can’t complain. I will say that this is what sparked my rant, we wanted to refi at year 2.5. Our credit scores are on point, we pumped equity into the home, house prices went down but still way above what we paid, not much on credit (thus the good scores) and we had full time “secured” jobs that we held for three years. All signs point to EASY approval. I met with loan guy at our credit union who gave me the all clear and set up an assessment  saying “once we get this back your husband can come in and look at your options”, GREAT. I’m white as can be, I’m mostly German, one would think I fit in since I’m a fucking chameleon at blending into a culture and community. He was hesitant but nice enough, see ND Nice for example. I get the call to come in, bring your husband. I need to point out that my husband was the one to let the assessor into the house and made a comment about my husband being native, he’s not but why does that matter… I find out later… Less than two minutes after walking in with my husband it was a “well I wish I could make this work but the loan amount just won’t be high enough” I look at the copy of the appraisal, they shorted us a full bedroom and bathroom. I point this out and he says “well, it’s up to the appraiser and that’s what they have so that’s what they go off of”, I ask what type of business they are working with, the answer, “we hold discretion on what types of loans we work with and this one won’t work, we wish you luck, and since we’re not going to issue the loan you will have to cover the fee for the assessment which is $600, would you like us to pull from your checking or send you an invoice”… I was FUMING. I contact an attorney friend of mine who looks into discrimination, he pulled some information on the demographics the bank is working with… 98% WHITE customers. Do I have a case, yes, will I win, NO. fuck my life.

This is what started my fury. I knew that we were treated as outsiders. I know that the go-to statement after anything negative is mention on the news is something along the lines of “well, you know it’s all those terrible people coming in from all over that are causing all these problems””the cold winters usually keep the riff-raft out”. These were the exact statement from a woman a cubicle over from me within the first two weeks of starting my job. From then on I tracked it, because I’m a fucking nerd with anger issues. The result up to last weeks “attack on a mother in a mall” (read that as dumbass 20-something pissing off her ‘friends’ and getting smacked around while holding her two year AS A FUCKING SHIELD)… all the comments on the article were around black trash, outsiders, etc… whatever, trash is trash but these women have been here since they were in elementary school… if your oh so wonderful community couldn’t help them “adapt” then fucking take on some blame yourself. It’s always a “they weren’t born and bred here”, “typical outside trash wrecking everything”, “We used to be the country’s best kept secret”, etc etc etc. This is pretty much in EVERY article, the news will only state if someone is a Bismarck Native if it’s a good story and lets everyone assume that something bad is only done by an “outsider”, which only enrages me more.

The results, sorry I sidetracked there, are that 97% of the “bad stuff” is perpetrated by a born and fucking bred NORTH DAKOTIANS. Do you hear that you complaining dumb-fucks of ND, NINTY-SEVEN PERCENT OF ALL THE BAD SHIT IS DONE BY YOUR “OWN PEOPLE”. Even when I shared the spreadsheet complete with links to public information on the people being born in ND (I spent entirely too much time on hospital searches for birth announcements, but I do have software at work that makes it a little easier to find people) and crickets, they blow past it saying “your information must be off”… NOPE you just don’t like being called out on your bullshit.

And I get it, you don’t want to see your “own” as bad, you want to blame some external force, but you can’t, it’s not going to work forever. At some point you have to own up that people here fucked up, not people coming here thinking (and wanting to believe) they will be accepted as decent human beings….

I know this is like a novel of a rant (about four pages now) but I’m just done with being here. I’m done with the backstabbing, I’m done with worrying that my son won’t have any real friends because their parents are fucking dickwads, I’m done feeling like a complete outcast when there is NOTHING different about me other than where I’m from and my character of not participating in the bullshit they love. I’m done feeling so much fucking hate in my heart towards people who could be decent human beings if they weren’t so xenophobic. I’m done with my son being called DARK like it’s a bad thing just because my husband is a Mexican mutt (I say mutt with love because according to ancestry he’s got a little of EVERYWHERE in him) when he’s barely even olive toned. I’m sick of feeling so down all the time because my family and most of my friends are so fucking far away and I can’t blame anyone for not wanting to visit the place that I refer to as frozen over hell. I’m done with everyone saying “come home” when I know my husband’s family is the reason we won’t. I’m done not having a Costco within a 2 hour drive. I’m done shopping at Walmart for my groceries because that’s the only semi-affordable option since the ONLY chain of grocery stores out here has the monopoly and charges VONS prices for food-4-less quality.

I’m done being at the point of my happiness resting on getting the fuck out of this place and encouraging others to do the same so they can go back to being the best kept secret for a fucking reason. Bismarck is a fucking pandora’s box, that’s why nobody wants to talk about it. I’m done trying to see the good in this place when I’m surrounded with negativity.

I’m done ranting now too. Going to get back to working out and eating better to feel good.

On a happy note, I did a HIIT run and it didn’t kill me! Going to have to keep that shit up!

Ella

I’ll attach some screen grabs from a news outlet here in Bismarck to show that I seriously can’t make this shit up. The issue was 4 “women” were pissed about a post their “friend” made and straight out attacked her while she held her toddler at the mall. One elderly gentleman stepped in and was hit as well. Everyone just walked by like “nothing to see here”. Some of the responses are people I know feel my pain in being here but the second I post something like that I’ll get the “go home then, we don’t want you”… here’s the shots (keep in mind a LOT of people deleted their comments when they were called out, I should’ve taken more sooner) screenshotsbullshitbismarck

 

I might need an alibi

On By lilbear083In Can't Make This Shit Up, Life, RunningLeave a comment

U.G.L.Y. You ain’t got no alibi you ugly, eh, hey you ugly

Sorry, anytime I hear the word alibi I think of that damn song.

Here’s the thing. I am now completely convinced that my husband either has a death wish or wants me to fail miserably at this fucking 1/2 deal. I  am set to run three days a week, Tuesday and Thursday for 20-45 minutes and Saturday for mileage. For the most part, I’ve kept up that schedule with PiYo on M/W/F and weights on Sunday…then I got sick and I would go like one day of massive workouts, 2 PiYo’s, four miles, and weights… and then get sick again…

He’s been okay about Saturdays, he’d take our little guy out to the library, the zoo, lunch whatever, to get out of the house and wear the little guy down so he would nap when he got home right after eating lunch. Then it got cold and my husband turned into a little twat, “it’s too cold out to go anywhere”. Really dude, too cold for you to get into the car that is in our heated garage and go drive with the heater on as you head into a place that 9/10 will have heated underground parking. You will never actually BE outside… REALLY? Because then it is just SOOO much work to entertain our child while I’m in the other room for 1-3 hours… let’s be real. I never get more than 1.5 hours. *sigh*

This week, this week makes me question the motives, either he wants to die or he wants me to fail and I’m not totally convinced either way. I finally got my (oh TMI warning before I go too far) period (59 days late) along with a round of food poisoning.

Monday I was off work, he went to work, little guy went to day care, Mommy stayed home and got in a decent workout with a run. Progress report I’m currently at an “almost dying but still surviving” pace of 15:48, if I can keep this up and improve then I should be able to finish this damn run without the Disney Police picking my ass up at one of the mile markers. All was well and right in the world. I even got some school stuff done. yay me

Tuesday I go to work, eat my “this will help me lose some weight and be healthy” soup for lunch… I got about half way through it when I started rifling through the trash can to check the date. It didn’t taste bad, but was making my tummy upset… nope good til aug 2016.. we’re good… oh wait I feel… sick… to the bathroom. Hey check it out. PERIOD showed up… maybe that’s why I’m not feeling so hot. Doctors did say it was going to be a period from hell… yes, that’s why. back to desk. 10 minutes before I leave for the afternoon I proceed to puke at my desk. Haven’t done that since I was pregnant, THAT’s how urgent that shit was for me. go home obviously not going to run so I get child from daycare, hold it together while calling my dear sweet loving husband telling him he needs to get his ass home asap… he couldn’t hear me “text me babe”… my text “get your ass home asap, I’m dying to sit on the toilet to shit my brains out while puking into the trashcan that is lined with diapers you forgot to empty. I cooked nothing please get food for kid and you because the smell of food is only making it worse” response “ok, will do”… he worked LATER than normal. no text, no call. Get’s home, I hand him the remote for Paw Patrol dvd and head to the bathroom as I hear “What am I supposed to feed him?” from down the hall… I text… chicken nuggets, follow directions on bag, turn on fan… then I started clocking it. He would walk down the hall, open the door to our bedroom, peak into the bathroom and either say nothing, sigh heavily and walk out or ask “are you done yet?”, sigh heavily and walk out… want to guess… take a guess how many times he did that

 

I can wait

 

 

well, you’re reading this so no one is really waiting

 

18 times in ONE FUCKING HOUR. I got up, grabbed the pepto I asked him to bring me at entry #8, head downstairs with that and my Epsom salt. I took a hour long bath downstairs, why you ask, why go downstairs. Well my loves, because my husband is a grade A lazy ass… he’ll walk back and forth down the hall all goddamn day… but go downstairs, well, that’d mean he would have to go back UP the stairs. And if our kid saw him go downstairs WITHOUT going with, he’d lose his shit. (The jumper is downstairs, along with the other toys that he loves that drive me up the wall so we keep them out of sight out of mind). I was left alone to feel like an evil genius. Epsom salt and a drop or two of lavender is GREAT for cramps and nausea by the way. I start to feel better, make my little man a bottle for bed and head to my room. Husband had to put the baby to bed, so sorry dear… whatever. He comes to bed bitching and moaning that “he was really in a mood tonight”. I faked being asleep.

Wednesday – I feel BETTER. like MUCH better. cramps are no joke, but I feel good. Due to one car household he has to go home get baby and then come get me from work. I offer to call in for a pizza from a lovely artisan place in town. He agrees only after asking, “will you be joining us for dinner or hiding in the bathroom all night again?”. I KNOW RIGHT? How is he not dead or verbally assaulted lol I kid I kid, but seriously, I was boiling… if anyone is “hiding” in the bathroom it’s him and his bejewled game during a 45 minute shit after I’ve asked him to do something. Y’all know that “oh yea I’ll do that, right after I poop, I have to go to the bathroom right now” line…  gah… I say, “maybe I can get a run in tonight since I feel better” response “well if you need a reason to hide again I guess”. so of course I don’t because at that point he’s handing me my child….

get home and he’s going on and on about how “difficult” it was dealing with our son alone… oh you mean like I do when you’re out in the field five days a week? *sigh* so yea. I go to bed at 9, play on my phone and pass out at 10. He didn’t finish whatever movie or game he was playing til about 1130… Baby wakes up WIDE AWAKE wakes up at 3am… he whines, not the baby MY HUSBAND, “I need sleep, can’t you deal with him” … oh because I don’t need sleep… SURE… fucker. Background, once I’m up, I’m UP, there is no go back to sleep for me. Him, get up, piss, drink water, snack, whatever, plop back down and snoring away in less than 5 minutes… we know this about each other. And yet. I’m the one that got up with our child at 3 fucking am… tried to get him back to bed, he wasn’t having it.

Now technically Thursday – We ended up watching Elmo in Grouch-land while coloring until the husband woke up, all ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off and comes out to say “do you want to go back to sleep I can stay with him now?” … insult to injury dood…

So after all that loveliness, I might need an alibi… as I can only imagine what this weekend is going to be like with him. Anyone else have a husband that travels for work and while they are gone you want them home to help, but when they are home for more than a couple of days you want them gone because they are zero help?

Pray for me

Ella

My Brain is Broken

On By ErinIn Can't Make This Shit Up, LifeLeave a comment

So I’ve read a lot about the power of positive thinking. I’m sure you’ve heard such catch phrases as “change your thinking, change your life!” and “your thoughts determine your destiny”.  But for the life of me my default is worst case scenario.  I’m trying to change that, I really am….but it ain’t easy.

For example, I was impacted at my job, so I’m looking for work right now.  Even though I was given 3 months of severance, this is the thought process that went through my head. Keep in mind that I did the calculations on this, and with my husband working full-time, that money should be able to last/stretch us for at least 6 months….without tapping into our savings.  What if I don’t find a job right away?  What if no one wants to hire me?  What if I can’t find work?  What if we run out of money?  What if we can’t pay the mortgage?  What if we have to move?   What if we lose our cars, our house?  OMG WE’RE GONNA BE BANKRUPT, HOMELESS, AND IN FINANCIAL RUIN BECAUSE OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Another recent example.  I’m sure you’ve all heard or read something about the Zika virus by now.  Since the hubs works for an airline, we have travel benefits, and he’s mentioned wanting to go to South America (particularly Brazil, Chile, Peru areas), Latin America (Mexico, Costa Rica, etc.)…and I believe all of the countries I’ve mentioned have had Zika outbreaks.  I get that this impacts pregnant women only.  Am I pregnant?  No.  Are we actively trying to get pregnant?  Fuck no!  But where did my brain go?  WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WHEN I GET PREGNANT WITH A ZIKA BABY?

In both instances I was legit terrified for a bit.  (or awhile.)  My brain spins out of control, thinking about all of the “what if” situations until I am a nervous, anxious frenzied hot mess.  My husband doesn’t understand it at all, and it’s completely frustrating to him.  Well guess what buddy?  It’s completely frustrating to me too!  It’s no fun to feel completely paralyzed by something that will probably never happen but in your mind, you’ve envisioned it happening so clearly, how can it not come to pass?  This is a daily struggle for me.  I’m trying to reign it in.

I’ve been exercising regularly, as an outlet.  I’m also getting back to writing/blogging/journaling.  I’ve also started doing meditation.  Ok, I’ve half-assed the meditation bit. I have a guided medication app on my phone called “Breathe” and it’s been at least two weeks since I’ve used it.  And the meditations are short, between like 3-5 minutes, so I have zero excuse not to do it daily.  And from what I’ve read, daily meditation might be my miracle cure.

For those of you anxious worriers out there like me, how do you turn off the stream of “what ifs” in your life?  How do you quiet the noise?   What techniques have worked for you?  This worrier needs your advice.  BRB – going to meditate so I can change my thinking and change my life (because I need a job goddamnit!).