The Four Things my Mommy Told Me....
So went over to the folks' place on Sunday, of course you would think at the tender age of 25 that I would be able to get a long with my dad...yeah about that!?! We moved my sister's crap, er I mean possessions into the basement. Apparently her coming back from college means we have to "re-move" everything that my parents just found a place for, from when she moved out to go to college. Steph I love you but next time you have to at least come back and be there. When I was young, my dad and I got along great, maybe it was my tom-boyish attitude, or the fact that mom worked lots and went to school, but we were cool together. Then as he says, "at the age of thirteen you changed..." um well maybe, but I think he had a lot to do with that too.
My parents always taught me that I needed to be myself, that just because I was a girl there was nothing that I could not do. So at the young age of thirteen I rebelled, not like most kids with black hair or the loud music that the parents hate, I mostly just fought with my parental units, man I let them know exactly what I felt when I felt it. Normal, I know most of you are thinking to yourselves, but then cut to the age of 18 when I left for college. Dad and I started to "communicate" as he puts it (I still hate that word by the way) we could hang out and do projects around the house, I was still really into the manual work, I felt a sense of accomplishment by mowing the yard or building whatever it was I felt the need to build...You know I thought maybe I had grown up, then I watched my sister go through the same thing, but knowing that my sister and I have two completely different personalities (I always told her that she was the adopted one...I think now it is the other way around!) I worried about her and my dad...cut to this weekend...
So there we are moving the furniture for my sister, my dad and I, oh and a big shout out to my mom who managed to finish the four dishes in the sink and vacuum...thanks ma, where were you on that one! So here we are yelling at eachother because my pops is a planner, always moving this out of the way, or re-arranging the way we were to carry an extremely heavy waterbed down the two stories of their house...me I am a wham bam thank you ma'am lets get this shit done, cause I have stuff to do type of gal. Granted planning is good, but time management is better, or so I thought...so here is my epiphany for the weekend...all of us...we are the same person...then I started thinking, you can say that about almost everyone of this small planet we call earth.
Think about it, we all want the good life; a happy family, a safe home, a good job (one where we don't have to work 60 hours a week in order to not see our happy family or safe home). The reason why we, my dad and I, argue is because we are so the same person. Someone would say that if we are so similar, then why do we argue? Well because while we want the same stuff in life, we might have a slightly different style of getting there. So here I am thinking, you know, maybe my dad was right, if I had moved the floor length mirror from my sister's room maybe I wouldn't have knocked it over and shattered the damn thing...just kidding Steph. No but seriously, I know this seems elementary, but if I (1) just took some time to look at other's style (2) maybe there wouldn't be so much yelling (3) ...
So that's my blog entry for the day, sorry it wasn't exciting like about my wild crazy sex that I had last night during the thunderstorm....
(1) By "I", I mean you and everyone, including the presidents and monarchs and kings and clerics and priests and everyone who has any sort of contact with anyone, so unless you are a troll living in a cave in Brazil, where you live completely off of the guava tree outside your dwelling, and all other supplies and nutrients are supplied by a force other than man (or other trolls) then this means you!
(2) By other's style, I mean look at people and how they react before you jump off of the deep end. Don't assume you are right because you are older, or have the doctorates, or because of your race or religious affiliation. God doesn't make that distinction, so why should anyone else? Listen to your fellow man (or woman) don't succumb to this submersive bullshit, where if you keep quiet then there will be less fighting...speak your mind whatever it might be, it is your right!
(3) By yelling, I mean war and hatred and just everything bad...
So there you have it the ranting of a 25 year old student that is pissed off about the way this world it turning out. My dad and I are fine, we calm down and all is well, no hard feelings. But for those of you out there that have nothing to say to your family or your parents...man what is wrong with you?! I mean your family should be the people that you will always know will be there for you no matter how much you mess up...mine was.
So talk! People, speak you minds, because if you don't...if you just keep silent, there might be a time in the future when you don't have the right to speak and you will be wishing and hoping for this time to be the present. Don't take for granted what you are given, because life as you know it will be upon a change...and you might not like it!
Mom, thanks for reading the blog, I hope you enjoy it and I hope that I don't embarrass you too much! Dad, I used you as an example (it's always easier to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission), I hope one day that understanding of this new fangled inter-net thingy snaps in your mind and it is all so very clear...good luck with the e-mail! Steph, I hope you enjoy the basement, I smashed my finger between your bed and the wall, I think you owe me a big thank you...or a beer will suffice!
My parents always taught me that I needed to be myself, that just because I was a girl there was nothing that I could not do. So at the young age of thirteen I rebelled, not like most kids with black hair or the loud music that the parents hate, I mostly just fought with my parental units, man I let them know exactly what I felt when I felt it. Normal, I know most of you are thinking to yourselves, but then cut to the age of 18 when I left for college. Dad and I started to "communicate" as he puts it (I still hate that word by the way) we could hang out and do projects around the house, I was still really into the manual work, I felt a sense of accomplishment by mowing the yard or building whatever it was I felt the need to build...You know I thought maybe I had grown up, then I watched my sister go through the same thing, but knowing that my sister and I have two completely different personalities (I always told her that she was the adopted one...I think now it is the other way around!) I worried about her and my dad...cut to this weekend...
So there we are moving the furniture for my sister, my dad and I, oh and a big shout out to my mom who managed to finish the four dishes in the sink and vacuum...thanks ma, where were you on that one! So here we are yelling at eachother because my pops is a planner, always moving this out of the way, or re-arranging the way we were to carry an extremely heavy waterbed down the two stories of their house...me I am a wham bam thank you ma'am lets get this shit done, cause I have stuff to do type of gal. Granted planning is good, but time management is better, or so I thought...so here is my epiphany for the weekend...all of us...we are the same person...then I started thinking, you can say that about almost everyone of this small planet we call earth.
Think about it, we all want the good life; a happy family, a safe home, a good job (one where we don't have to work 60 hours a week in order to not see our happy family or safe home). The reason why we, my dad and I, argue is because we are so the same person. Someone would say that if we are so similar, then why do we argue? Well because while we want the same stuff in life, we might have a slightly different style of getting there. So here I am thinking, you know, maybe my dad was right, if I had moved the floor length mirror from my sister's room maybe I wouldn't have knocked it over and shattered the damn thing...just kidding Steph. No but seriously, I know this seems elementary, but if I (1) just took some time to look at other's style (2) maybe there wouldn't be so much yelling (3) ...
So that's my blog entry for the day, sorry it wasn't exciting like about my wild crazy sex that I had last night during the thunderstorm....
(1) By "I", I mean you and everyone, including the presidents and monarchs and kings and clerics and priests and everyone who has any sort of contact with anyone, so unless you are a troll living in a cave in Brazil, where you live completely off of the guava tree outside your dwelling, and all other supplies and nutrients are supplied by a force other than man (or other trolls) then this means you!
(2) By other's style, I mean look at people and how they react before you jump off of the deep end. Don't assume you are right because you are older, or have the doctorates, or because of your race or religious affiliation. God doesn't make that distinction, so why should anyone else? Listen to your fellow man (or woman) don't succumb to this submersive bullshit, where if you keep quiet then there will be less fighting...speak your mind whatever it might be, it is your right!
(3) By yelling, I mean war and hatred and just everything bad...
So there you have it the ranting of a 25 year old student that is pissed off about the way this world it turning out. My dad and I are fine, we calm down and all is well, no hard feelings. But for those of you out there that have nothing to say to your family or your parents...man what is wrong with you?! I mean your family should be the people that you will always know will be there for you no matter how much you mess up...mine was.
So talk! People, speak you minds, because if you don't...if you just keep silent, there might be a time in the future when you don't have the right to speak and you will be wishing and hoping for this time to be the present. Don't take for granted what you are given, because life as you know it will be upon a change...and you might not like it!
Mom, thanks for reading the blog, I hope you enjoy it and I hope that I don't embarrass you too much! Dad, I used you as an example (it's always easier to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission), I hope one day that understanding of this new fangled inter-net thingy snaps in your mind and it is all so very clear...good luck with the e-mail! Steph, I hope you enjoy the basement, I smashed my finger between your bed and the wall, I think you owe me a big thank you...or a beer will suffice!
posted by T at 2:39 PM
2 Comments:
Trolls live under bridges not in caves, and I just helped you dad bring up that heavy desk.
Always and Forever
MOM
Well I about shit my pants when you said you broke my mirror. But glad to here that I helped you have this life realization!! Just think if I had come home, you would have never gone over to help out mom and dad, and then you would not be able to write such a touching blog – a true future leader of this nation, alright so maybe just a future protester!!! Watch out capital building!!! – Thanks for the help though!!
Side note:
It is funny though because as I read through your description of how life was growing up it was kind of the same for me. The main lesson I remember growing up was dad's lectures on how I was not going to be one of those girls who did not know how to do anything. So changing the car's oil or pushing around the lawn mower that AT SOME POINT weighted more than me were not choirs but rather lessons for the future. Or how about mom always preaching about guys and how we never need one to be complete! Could we go as far to label her as a feminist? I am sure if we look hard enough we can get a picture of mom burning her bra in the 70's.
Anyways you are right! Mom, Dad, and I use to be like this (showing intertwining fingers)… but once I hit high school man o man did that change. The only difference between us was you spoke your mind out loud and I spoke my mind to myself - Sure I will admit it!! You were the badass and I was the weasel - Even further no matter how much I would have never admit it then, I admit it now, all I really needed to do was look at other’s (by this I mean Mom’s and Dad’s) style and maybe there would not have been so much yelling (and by this I mean SCREAMING).
Oh how college helps you to grow, or maybe just having a wise sister 7 years older who made/helps you to grow up and see/understand/realize things a lot sooner… definitely NOT a bad thing.
Tell mom to stop using my saying, and thanks again for your help
Always and Forever
Little Sis
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