The Guiding Sludge

Relatives suck. Well, some do, anyway. Don'cha sometimes wish you could choose all your family instead of being stuck with the assholes that DNA, that bitch, deals you?

Those of you who read regularly know that my sister had issues, I went and got her from states away, and that she left. She's my little sister, there isn't really any way I could tell her no. And she has my 7y.o. nephew. Can't leave them alone, in another state, with a temp job for shitty pay. I would suck as a human being if I could have done that. So my family sacrificed and I went to get them, brought them home, and we were taking care of them until she could get a job. It was a bit cramped, but it was kewl.

Except that she continued to talk to the asshole who put her in that situation in the first place. He stole from her, lied to her, left the state and went back to his...wife. Yup. His wife, whom he hadn't managed to divorce, and his kids, for whom he couldn't manage to even fill out visitation paperwork. But, boy, could that bastard set up a scheme to screw over my sister and her kiddo to get back to them. And yet, after moving, she was in constant contact with him. wtf?

My sister had a job lined up at the end of this month with a big communications company, including profit sharing and full medical. Good money. She had full-time, no-cost child care and transportation, via me. Good schools, decently priced housing, family to depend upon and share the kid duties.

I thought everything was going well. Then one day, she did everything she could to piss me off. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Ya. Come to find out, she was plotting with the thieving bastard. She wasn't able to make me the horrible mean person in the scenario, so she kept her plans to herself. The day after the bitchfest, I was told she was leaving to be with him minutes before she began to pack the car. Supposedly, she didn't want to hurt my feelings. I think it was that she didn't want anyone asking questions that might make her think like a sane person or that might make her consider what she is doing to the child. She only took what fit in the car, so left quite a bit here, assuming we could/would pay for storage...indefinitely?

I got a 2 minute call to let me know she got to PA. After her older son (who lives with his father - thankfully, I think now) called here looking for her, I sent a email to her, letting her know. I got a snotty one back. Then nothing.

I was heartbroken. Astounded. Disbelieving. You can likely imagine.

Ten days later, I finally decided to let her know how I felt. Not knowing if the cell # I had been given was hers or belonged to someone else, I didn't feel right calling. I sent email. I was very honest. I got a reply that was...*shakes head* I asked for contact info for both boys, so that I can keep in touch and send holiday gifts, etc. I was told that all contact had to go through her, because she didn't want anything bad being said about her to them. Huh? I reminded her that she owed us money, some from as long ago as nearly 2 years. I was told that I was mistaken, misguided, and fucking wrong. Wha? I expressed that I was disappointed that she hadn't honored her word in really thinking about how it would affect the kiddo before she made any major decisions. I was told that I am a controlling bitch. WTF?

So...apparently I am the only sibling who is psycologically functional in my family. I blow a fuse on occasion, but never the whole damn structure-wiring. I mean -- didn't we all stop doing the "I can rationalize things any way I want and there won't be any consequences!" thing at, o, about 14-16 years old? At the latest?

I still don't get it, although I have seen her do it before. I had hoped, though, that at nearly 35yo, she had matured. Makes me sad.

In true adolescent fashion, I got an email this evening telling me that I am blocked from her email. And I notice that I have been removed from her MySpace.

In light of the overt asininity, I felt obligated by self-preservation to go through and change all my passwords, etc. In this state, who can say what destructive urge she might have? And all because I tried to talk to her like an adult.

Damn.

The part of me that's pissed off almost wants to grin at the thought that she will eventually realize what she left here: our great-grandmother's rocking chair, a picture our mother drew for her, all kinds of collectible stuff...I think I'll likely get a call or email when that little illumination hits. Of course, those will still be here, along with the kiddo's toys, of which she left most.

*sigh*

I am very grateful to have my real family around me: my partner, the kids, the dogs. They keep me sane, take care of me, and put up with me. I try like hell to do the same for them.

Wow, this got long. Feel a bit better, tho, which I guess is the point.

Gotta remember: Don't lend money to family - ever. No more house guests for more than a week.

If I ever try to go against those rules, please, feel completely free to club me in the back of the head with the nearest blunt object.

What the fuck are they thinking?

I was searching Google.com for something this morning and ran across...atrocities! WrongwrongBADwrong. I can't even begin to describe the evil of what I found or comprehend the mentality of those behind the creation of such travesties.

For peace of mind, let's start slowly.

I have a little dog. I have never had a leetle dog before, only big ones. Big dogs look at you funny - at the least - or, hopefully, bite you right in the ass if you try to put funny clothing on them. Even the ones who give you funny looks will later retaliate by happily destroying something you love as revenge for making them look like a jackass. The exception to this would, of course, be the Standard Poodle. Despite qualifying as a big dog, once you've had your hair cut like that, all pride bets are off.

But, as I said, I now have a leetle dog. He has a sweet, sad face with huuuuge eyes. When he gets a bath or, all the gods forbid, encounters a bit of rain, he shivers fit to come apart. So. He has. a. sweatshirt. Yes. He does. I r ashamed, but the poor little guy gets damed cold! And, eventually, he will have a soft-side carrier so that I can be obnoxious and take him places. "Exfuckyou, what? He's in a carrier. Bite me." And I will poke the rude person with my cane.

I assure you that I will buy said carrier someplace like Walmart. Any necessary attire (cuz it does get cold here and I dread what will happen to Mr. Wimpy in any temp below 60F) will come from someplace like, I dunno...PetSmart or something. In any case, it will never be foofoo or cost more than anything I would buy for the kids to play in.

Those points being made, let's return to the horrible things I found on the intarwebs.

What the fuck are people thinking? I mean, really? I have seen spoiled children in $200 shoes they will outgrow inside 3 months and thought their parents imbeciles. Or toddler girls in $500 dresses. However...it didn't compare.

Funny Fur carries some scary shit. Let's start with the $30-150.00 t-shirts for DOGS! Or the Captain America puppy tote for $265.00.

Are you saying "what the fuck!?" yet?

Then look at the dog beds from the same company. Please smell the sarcasm when I tell you I love the ones for near or over $1,000.00. Yes, I said ONE. THOUSAND. DOLLARS. For a fucking dog bed.

Hey - my giant, king-size, four-poster bed with the double pillowtop mattress didn't quite cost what the most expensive dog bed on that page does. And the dogs sleep just fine at the foot of it. (Well, Rip sleeps kinda under my pillow, but the big dogs sleep at the foot.)

The most frightening thing was the dog fashion show. For those of you having shortness of breath or nightmare flashes of what this might look like, you can see for yourself here. I apologize in advance and but declare myself not responsible for any permanent damage done to your psyche during the viewing of the video.

One of the "designer" participants in the *cough*sputter* canine fashion show *puke*cough* was Emma Rose Design. Just to give you an idea of how skeery and empty some peoples' lives are, this, um....gown?...was one featured in the show. It goes for $2900.00. Yup. Reread if you have to. $2900.00. I guess you might need a tiny Chihuahua gown sewn with Swarovski crystal if you were going to a high-couture banquet.

In hell.

Little dog brain

Yes, it's a dog post. Bear with me.

I have big dogs. I have always had big dogs. But, I am slowing down, have a restricted lift limit, and am damned tired of being wounded whenever the GSD decides she reallyreally wants to see the whateverthehellitis waaaaay over there and screws up my back with minimal effort.

So.

I brought a Rat Terrier into the house. Ripper (hey! he has to get confidence from somewhere!) weighs 5.6lbs. True to form, like anything I pick out or that lives in this house for more than 24 hours, he's afu. Markings aren't standard, ears are wonky, things like that. I am hoping that at least the ears straighten out. The "things like that" are only likely to get worse.

The reason for this post is to wonder, ask, shake my head in disbelief, at the fact that Ripper seems to be insane. Are all little dogs like this?

I have raised many large breed pups. Bouncy, hyper, silly -- but they seem to have some type of built-in sense. They may eat a shoe or 12 while learning what is "good" to chew on, but I have never seen one reason that as long as it came out of an acceptable toy, it's ok to eat that head-sized pile of stuffing. Or go into the little garbage can after it 14 times despite reprimand.

Big dogs are clumsy. They skitter and slide across the kitchen floor until people are stifling laughter while trying to comfort the crestfallen pup. But they learn after the first couple of times (usually) where to slow down. Our Nougat never runs on slick surfaces. Ripper has slid around the same corner so many times now that he is missing fur on one shoulder where he slams into the dogs' toy crate at the end of his tile-skate.

Puppies love bugs. It's a fact. They are small! and move! and end up getting paw-thumped mercilessly. However, I have never seen any dog slam their nose into the concrete in order to kill them. Again, and again, and again... As I type, he has found an upturned beetle, which he has managed to nose slam about 10 times now, only to shake his head in a panic when the bug latches onto said nose.

Don't get me wrong. Ripper is actually very smart. He has been here a week and is mostly house trained, sits, fetches, and comes when called. He knows when food happens, what is kewl to chew on (except for that stuffing issue) and is the only dog in the house who will actually sleep in in the morning if allowed. He learns quickly with clicker and treats, even if he is distracted easily on occasion.

I just wonder if the little bits of insanity are normal. Or, I wonder if it's someone's secret job to go around gathering small-breed pups and beating their heads on a rock til they are just kinda...not right. You know, until they get that perpetual cute-and-brainless look on their faces. "Yup, Joe, this one's done. Time to put 'em back! Quiet now, so no one suspects."

I can't imagine any other reason that any thinking being would willingly stick their whole head into a mouth full of giant teeth large enough to encompass half their body. Maybe the echo is kewl?

So which is it?

Dove is doing this massive "Campaign for Real Beauty" and raising money for a "Self-Esteem Fund" for girls. Yay! Right? Um...I r confuzzled. Dove runs commercials in magazines with supposedly "real" women, then there's shit about the women being airbrushed, just like every other bullshit model in publication. The supposed Selp-Esteem Campaign espouses "free[ing] the next generation from self-limiting beauty stereotypes." Go parent company, Unilever!

Wait a minute. Unilever? Aren't they the same bastards who make Axe with their nice girls gone bad campaign? I gotta admit, the Naughty to Nice video had me giggling; I found the charge of riding a naked man like a pony - against traffic, and imprisoned for a lewd act with an electric mixer, amusing as hell. But...definitely not self-esteem inducing material for girls or young women. Even worse (though funnier still) are the vids found when clicking "Huffing" and "Igniting" on the "Use Axe Responsibly" tab of the About Axe page. (Sorry, there was no direct linkage available.)

I'm an adult with a brain. I can separate the dippy, short-skirted, very-non-role-model brunette in the "Igniting" video from, say, Lt. Col. Eileen Collins or Lauryn Hill. My 9yo can't. She only sees that the pretty woman is on tv and having fun. She has kewl clothes and people are looking at her. She has no clue who Lt. Col. Eileen Collins is (first female space commander for NASA, for those who don't know - use your damned internet, for fuck's sake!) Then the 9yo (Jo) sees the Dove Self-Esteem Campaign video on tv, which first flashes all those images of women as drool-fodder, followed by a little girl sitting on a couch looking a bit shell-shocked.

Does Jo get it?

Not particularly.

It's a bit over her head and a little inundating with the imagery for her.

Does it give her alternatives to the tidalwave of negative imagery?

Nope.

And, irony of ironies, it's followed by a fucking Axe commercial.

Bastards.

Head hurts now

Found on craigslist:

DOG must go

Reply to: comm-*************@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-07-09


1 year old, spayed, *** mix, free. She is a large dog, about 60 pounds and goofy. She is not fond of cats and has an unreasonable hatred of poultry (emphasis mine), thus she must find a new home. She would be great for a poultry-free home with older children.

***

Nope. Not kidding.

An unreasonable hatred of poultry...Makes one think, doesn't it? When I first read that, I just automatically assumed it to mean chickens. Live chickens. But, ya gotta remember that we are dealing with a posting on craigslist. The poster mentions "cats" in the vernacular, so why not just say "chickens?" Or why not "felines and...poultry...?"

Does said dog chase cats and chickens? Or does she just chase cats but go into convulsions at the mere sight of a Chik-fil-a sandwich? How about if ya came home with Zaxby's on your breath? Would it be time to say goodbye to your favorite slippers?

Lastly, why the "older children" comment, I have to wonder. Maybe the poster assumes they are more likely able to control their poultry-consumption urges...or less likely to come home with stray chickens in tow...?

What the fuck?

Damn Aliens

Sometime this week Ask And Ye Shall Receive is going to review this blog. When I submitted WoD for review, things were going well. I was looking forward to said review. Then, shit fell apart.

In the last month and a half, we have lost 2 family pets who had been with us for a number of years. One literally mourned himself to death after losing his brother not long before. It was heart-breaking. The other found her own way out when things got too bad due to old age. My heart was shredded. We also have another long-time pet (nearly 10 years) who is feeling and showing the effects of old age. Arthritis, memory issues, possible strokes...we know she likely won't be with us long and it's killing me. I dread what it will do to the kids when she goes.

My sister's life went to hell. I drove up and helped her pack up and move to SC with us. First, let me explain the connotations of my driving that far. I have been hit 4 times, none of which were my fault in the least. The whole trip was one giant panic attack, although I am such a control freak, no one quite knew it...I hope. Then, let me explain that "with us" means that 2 more people, a cat, and their stuff moved into an overstuffed 3/2 apartment that already harbored 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 dogs, and 4 rats. The existing high chaos level was immediately doubled...trebled...multiplied by an insane amount. Add to that the issues of children who aren't used to one another, a dog who is ailing, a woman and kids mourning dying ratties, another woman stressing over finances and finding a job...It would likely have been easier to have dropped a bomb on us and had done with it than to have sorted things out in any sane manner. But we got through it day by day and even managed to laugh.

But find time to blog? Um, no. Not happening. That I even managed to drop the occasional mindless picture up here was amazing to me. Sorry that it wasn't more, but I was trying to stay sane and not murder anyone in my household or become a statistic in the local newspaper.

Two ratties passed away in horrible manners and we found a home for the remaining two who had originally been brought in as company for the oldsters. So what the hell do I do but something completely insane. I brought in a puppy. Yes, faced with the recent death of my little ones and the impending passing of my sweet Nougat, who has been a lot of my emotional stability through surgery and chronic pain for years...I brought a puppy into the house. I know it's a major avoidance move, but I did it anyway. I added to the chaos. But I adore the little guy, and he will make Nougat's ever-quickening slide into staring, drooling, oblivion somewhat easier to deal with. Think what you will, I take all the blame.

My sister found a job out of state and left this evening. She didn't say anything until she was ready to pack the car as she was afraid to...I don't know what. Hurt my feelings? I don't know. I will worry about her. I will miss her. But, for better or worse, things are back to "normal," or as close as we get to that state in our house. For the next two days, at least.

My partner had a family member pass away last week and is out of town for the funeral. She doesn't know my sister is gone. I still get to relay that message and that she doesn't get to say goodbye. And I still get to cry. Gonna be a long night.

So. Despise my layout. It's ok, as long you can give me a better suggestion. Hate my puppy pictures. They stay. The dogs keep me sane and occasionally keep the rest of the world the hell away from me. Criticize my recent flake-out on regular posting. It's all good. I got through the last month with my sanity intact and the kids sans tape marks.

By the way, I challenge anyone else to do this with a GSD's head on one arm and a terrier ear lying across their trackpad. *grin*