Dark and Twisted Ink

I've often wondered if there are other people like me out there. When I perceived someone to rain criticisms and blame on me, I get mad, I get hurt, and I get angry. It's hard for me to bounce back and become lovey-dovey again.

For example, today, my husband and I had a plan. This plan was pushed off, first because he was sleeping. I have no objections, he worked late, and I wanted him to sleep. Second off, my child has a tutoring appointment at noon, so we couldn't leave til after that. Then I forgot to get my act together on some bills, and today or rather yesterday was the deadline. I had to delay another 20 minutes while I try to find out which bank account I can write the payment on.

Anyway, by now, my husband was mad the all these delays. I have to change my two babies, make sure to have their bottles ready, diapers and drinks for me. I promptly forgot the last two. I was sooo thirsty, but I couldn't possibly run in inside and delay some more.

Then the lecture starts. It sounds like a lecture. The kind where you don't want to hear, but know that you have to anyway because if you object, there's this potential for a bigger blow-up.

So you sit there and listen and fume. Fumed, I say, because it's not that you planned to make someone late. It just happened.

Then I started hearing new rules and edicts. It might not supposed to be that, but it was this short of an order.

No more other appointments on the day we have this thing. No more delays, no more anything, excepting of course if HE needs sleep and he must delay. OK. Sounds good. The way I understand it was, no one better get sick on "those day" or you're SOL. HE decreed!

Of course he'll object to my calling it "decree" but it sounds like it.

Here I was, out of breath for cleaning a house, which I am told does not need cleaning.

Tell me, if the floor is filled with spilled juice, dried up food, tables and sticky with drying sugars, utensils scatter hither and yon, dirty diapers all over, dirty clothes all over, shoes strewn across kingdom come, dirty plates on sink, piling laundry everywhere...

kindly tell me who is among sane woman will not take this as time to clean. I fucking clean the house all morning, most of it holding a 20+-pound baby in one arm, serving breakfast and whatnot to a two year old, and mopping floors, picking up dirty-anything anywhere.

I wasn't expecting help. I just want to NOT get a lecture after, and get blamed for delaying the outing. That's all.

I know it's unreasonable of me, but it's all I want.

And if it takes me an hour because I can be bouncy-happy, don't take it against me. It takes all of my self-control not to let out a rant of my own.

I sorely regret ever expressing my discontent and fears. I think I know how things should go. I can only be my happy self.

Labels: rant

Yep, I am planning alright. I sit around and plan what improvements I could do around my home. For instance, there's the outside of my home which needed painting. I could do it myself. How hard could it be? Right?

I would have to go out and read a book about painting. This book will also tell me which tools to buy so I can paint successfully. Why bother taking up a hobby if I can't do it successfully? So, I went out and got several books about painting.

I spend a small fortune on these shiny, glossy books about painting. They look so lovely on my shelves. I arranged them by height.

They look so lovely, I really don't want to disturb them at all...so I am diving straight to the "other" pile of books to read. I don't want to ruin the symmetry of the books on my shelves.

Labels: books, Painting

My husband and I are thinking of recording our conversations and sharing it to the world. We laugh ourselves silly when we talk during the two hours we walk around the mall.

I don't know the first thing to do this. I don't even like my voice on recorded anything! I might give it a try though, because even if no one ever download it, my kids might get a kick out of listening to their parents talk, like normal people.

On the other hand, maybe not so normal...but I'd love to hear what my parents talk about when they were a young couple.

How does one go about putting an audio to an ipod anyway?

Labels: ipod, recordings, walks

When I sit here reading a book, I wonder if I, too, could write a book if I try hard enough.

Then I thought about this other book I read which says something about "trying hard" is not the way to go. "Doing it smart" is the way. OK. How does one go about being smart?

Nora Roberts said to keep on writing anyway. One can fix a bad page, but one can't fix a blank page. Or something like that. I like Nora Robert's books. In fact, I am enjoying one right now.

Ever since I played with the idea of writing, I try to notice styles and form while reading. I love the idea of writing, but never really tried it past school requirements and letters.

Letter writing is not so bad. I found a fabulous husband by writing an honest bunch of letters. It's amazing how much conversation can be in a letter, if both people cooperate.

I have been planning to write for a long time. I bought a lot of books about writing. The funny thing about writing is...it's like a gym membership. You have to actually show up for it to do you any good.

Though it sounds great that one's a member...I should at least flip through those book. Ah, but Elizabeth Lowell didn't read any of those writing books before writing her novel. True! Still, BookWorm should read those books, and if not, start writing.

Just write. Write every day. A page a day. Go over and fix it later.

So, I am going to write. Maybe by writing, I will find my voice. By writing, I will find myself a book authored by me. By writing, I might just hit bestseller! Yay!

Dear BookWorm,

Wasn't it a cold day yesterday? I took my mother and my young brother and my two littliest children to the mall.

On the way, we stopped by the bank to pay some bills. The teller from the bank told me they couldn't process my payment because the credit card wasn't name ThisBanks name. I was perplexed because the check I had to write payment to said "ThisBank Card Services".

I thought my heater wasn't working. I had to turn around and pick up my baby's sweater. I didn't want them to get sick. We also went back for a jacket for my mother. My older child didn't wear the sweater anyway. He was a little mad that we'd insisted on him sitting on his carseat.

This carseat I bought last week for 90 bucks. I bought another carseat two months ago, but it had this idiots luck. Even a two-year old can unlock it. What were Graco thinking of when they designed it? No kids I know wants to sit in their carseat if they can just unlock their seat and stroll around the car! That's carseat was just 140 bucks down the drain!

Oh yeah, I am writing you about yesterday. I planned to go out because I was going to have my glasses fix. The same glasses which my two-year-old broke. One earpiece was broken off. That was last May. It was my 500 bucks a pair glasses. I was going to have it soldered for less than 50 bucks.

Can you see the number climbing up on this post. We made it to the mall. I called my husband from my mother's phone on the way. It was near freezing in the car! NO heater. When I turned on the window defroster, the heater kicked in, so I am relieved.

At the mall, we ran to the front door. It was really cold.

We first went to a shoe store, to find a shoes for my mother. She wanted this Sketcher's dress sneakers to wear for shul. It wasn't at the first store. Also, she was salivating after a pretzel, but wouldn't buy it nor let me because it was 2.39 a piece. A bigger pretzel for 99 cents only somewhere else.

It looks like I can't finish this letter because my baby needs to eat now...

More later!

I can smell smoke. I am sitting with my computer and I do not want to get up.

I can smell smoke. I can guess what happened.

I can fell my headache coming. I can tell my screaming boiling through the surface.

Still I ignore it. I don't want to deal with it.

The smoke is wafting through my house coming from the kitchen. My house could be burning. I just want to sit before my computer, holding my baby in my arms. I'm opening another blog online.

Opening blogs is what I do best when I am all stressed up about something. I dreamed of having a really busy blog where people hang on to what I say. Yeah, everybody who opens their own blog dreams of just that.

But I digress. I am just here, ignoring this smoke which comes to choke me now. I don't want to deal with it.

My whole house reeks of smoke now.

I meant it. I am putting my feet down. Getting angrier now.

I shot out of my chair, made it to my kitchen on a run.

"WHY DO YOU DO IT?"

"I don't know."

"ARE YOU TRYING TO BURN THIS HOUSE DOWN?"

"I don't know."

"DON'T FUCKING DO IT AGAIN!"

And I stalked away.

I feel the urge to shake and throttle coming. I want to hurt someone. I want the smoke to go away.

I smelled it all before. It was pizza, microwaved at 100% power for 20 minutes.
This time it's Quaker Oats cereal in a bowl, microwaved without water. Smoke wafting out of the microwave oven, without the fire, bowl and insides all singed brown. I am angry anyway.

Why? WHY? Why am I am blessed this way? Children who takes care of themselves, and children who loves experimentation.

This curiousity which killed a cat could someday burn my house down.

I turned on the oven fan, hoping the smoke will get sucked out.

I heard a little voice, not quite contrite said, "Are we burning the kitchen? What's burning in the kitchen?"

Sponge. Children as like sponge. I realized, again, that I shouldn't let my anger get away from me. I need to teach, not berate. I need calm amidst these smoke. I need my sensible reason underneath my headache.

I gave my child a hug, and tell him it's okay. Later, I will get my Febreeze out and try to squirt the smoke away.

The smoke swims around my house, and I feel my headache getting worse. Time for a Tylenol, Extra Strength. It's what's good for headache.

Labels: excuses, new blog, smoke

If only life is a book, then we could all go back and re-read the pages. Analyze and take our time going through events, discuss and gleaned knowledge from it. Or better yet, ignore it.

I wish I could ignore parts of my life. Especially the part about today. I am a normal person. I want to run away, and not face unpleasant things.

You don't know anything about me. You probably won't be interested anyway. I am just a girl.

I am just a girl on a stolen vacation.

Freedom!

In today's world, I should be able to do what I want, when I want. Not so. Overprotected! That would be me.

I am enjoying my vacation today. I finally run away. In the dark of the night, I run away from home. My mother knew. When she said yes, I leaped and run. She's quixotic, my mother. I must act right away on the yeses, or it will be gone.

I noticed the stars are shining so brightly!

I also know that my father's on his way home. Fred, as he does not want to be called, is right now walking the same street on his way home.

So my cousin and I have to turn left and walk the long way out of the neighborhood. I am hoping that we will not met my father. I am hoping that he will not noticed I am gone to my stolen vacation after the ship have sailed.

My cousin and I are going to her island. This will be the first time in all my teenage years to travel without chaperon. I don't count my cousin for she's the same age as I am.

My heart is beating fast. Every thing is suddenly bright and loud. It's a new lease on life! I am not exaggerating. It's very heady, this journey to freedom.

We caught a Jeepney heading for the Piers. A jeepney is just like a Jeep, except it's fitted with benches in the back, to carry two dozens passengers. We have tickets to a ship docked in there. I only have one backpack-full of clothes, and I am happy!

Labels: Chapter 1