Rambling on about not much....
Tuesday, Apr. 16, 2013 3:35 PM
"America believes in education: the average professor earns more money in a year than a professional athlete earns in a whole week." - Evan Esar
It's official. I am now a notary of the public. I have a cool looking little stamp with my name on it now and everything. If anybody needs anything notarized here at the office, all they have to do is come to me and I get to sign it all professional like. Yay me! Should I seriously be this excited over something like this? Ha ha! Well, I am, as goofy as that may be.
SO.... yesterday was quite the day in Boston. Three people were killed and 170 injured (reported as of today) from the bombings. Two bombs went off near the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I find it a bit sad that CNN tells you how to make the type of bombs that were used underneath their pictures of the events.
Kent ran into the house when he heard about the bombings and was like, "call your brother. Make sure he's okay." I told Kent, "I know he's okay. I can feel it." I have a strange connection with my baby brother. When he's in pain, I feel it. When he's depressed, I feel it. When he's going through something horrible, I feel it. I didn't feel anything so I knew he was okay. I did contact his partner Tom, though, to make sure Tom was okay. Thankfully he's good. I'm grateful for that. As for Scotty, turns out he was in Portland, Oregon this week. See, I told Kent I knew he was okay.
I'm worried about Avelino but I have no way to get a hold of him. I haven't spoken to him since I got married. Seems that's the way it is sometimes. You get married and your male friends drift away - especially the ones you were intimate with. Anyhow, Av's a serious runner so I wonder if he was in the marathon. I hope he's okay.
Odd thing is, my mother, my two sisters, two of my nieces and I were going to take a trip to Boston in May to visit Scotty before he moves to Portland. I don't know if that's still going to happen. We weren't completely set on going to Boston. It was just one of our choices for a girls week all expense paid get away sponsored by my wonderful father. We're torn on where to go. It could be anywhere: Seattle, Phoenix, Boston, Savannah, etc. etc. I'd say Nova Scotia, but my dad would demand the guys go with if we chose to travel into Canada.
I'm just excited to get out of the house for awhile and away from the Kents. The last vacation I took was with Kent down into Arkansas last summer - which was really hard on him. We took some cell phone photos and you can tell how exhausted and sick he looks. I honestly wish God would just end his misery. I don't understand why people must suffer like this. He hasn't slept, eaten, or done much of anything but sit with his head bent between his legs for the last 4 days. Makes me ill just to think about it. Ugh!
Anyhow, I had to ground JR for poor grades. I feel horrible doing it, but my god.. there is no excuse for him to be flunking English and Math. I had to turn into the evil stepmother for awhile and take away his cell phone, ipod, band him from the computer and what-not until his grades improve. I don't know what else to do. Kids with ODD aren't easy to parent like other kids are. On top of that, I had to put him to work. I told him, "If you don't want to put forth effort into your homework then you're going to work your ass off at home. See what your future will be like if you don't get an education and end up in the military or doing factory work." Nice thing is, he's doing the housework and not complaining one bit. I had him down on his hands and knees scrubbing the linoleum floor in the kitchen yesterday. Sprinkle baking soda on the tiles, squirt it with a vinegar water mix, scrub, then move on to the next square... then come back and wipe it up. Then you mop the floor. It truly is amazing how clean this makes linoleum floors! I think JR just wants someone to discipline him and show they care, so maybe that's why he's not complaining about actually being grounded in the real sense. His dad won't do it, and his mother passed on... so I guess it's up to me to make the kid realize somebody does care - even if I don't know if I truly do. It's a very complicated relationship.
I love working here. Bill just showed up and I waved at him and he goes, "Hey, Jessie! How's it going?" Takes me back to my childhood when people call me Jessie - especially when its people who knew me as a baby and watched me grow up like Bill did. (He's my mother's cousin's husband and one of my dad's geologists.) Jessie was my childhood nickname. I can separate the people who knew me as a kid from the people who knew me in high school from the people who met me as an adult. Eighth grade and below call me Jessie, 9th to college level call me Jess, and those after that call me Jessica. Why am I going on about this? I am such a good rambler.
There's so much I'd love to write about, but it's like I'm avoiding "going there." And it's not on purpose either. I'd love to "go there." It's more like my brain is stopping me from doing so, almost like it takes too much effort to allow myself to delve into the abyss of these deep thoughts of mine. Granted, I may subconsciously be avoiding it because I'm afraid it will lead to a severe depression. I'm a bit shocked I'm not an addict of something worse than Dr. Pepper. Doesn't depression coincide quite well with an addictive personality? Who knows? Maybe if I had been raised differently, I may have ended up snorting cocaine or shooting my arm up full of heroin to escape the depression I seem to randomly fall into. I did spend quite a few years nursing myself into a drunken stupor. How I pulled myself out of that one is beyond me. Actually, I quit because Kent's an addict. There are days I crave the taste of alcohol so bad I can just taste it on my tongue, but I have enough self control that I don't rush out to satisfy the impulse. Now when it comes to ice cream, that's a completely different matter. I almost have to satisfy that craving within minutes of getting it. If I wasn't such a money hoarder, I'd probably be ten times my weight just from the ice cream impulses. Le Sigh!
Funny thing happens to my brother a lot. He gets mistaken for Zac Brown all the time. Everyone comes up to him and asks him where his beanie is. I'm only thinking of this because Zac Brown's on the radio right now. I should Google a picture of the man and see if he resembles my brother. HOLY CRAP! They could be twins almost. Blue eyes and all. Now I see it. Now I see why people confuse the two of them. From far away you'd mistake them completely. Up close you can see the slight differences. My god. I wish I looked like somebody famous. That would be awesome to be mistaken for someone else.
Enough rambling for the day. I need to actually get some work done here. Deeeeeeeeeeep long dramatic sigh.