Utah is not really the place I want to be right now, but Mom needs the company. My brother does live nearby; so does my cousin and her large family. But that's not someone to just have around the house to talk to, any time you feel like. Even if we're sitting in the same room, knitting & reading, at least there is someone there. And you aren't just cooking for one.
I am solidly in suburban Utah, which is my least favorite part of Utah. OK, fine, there are a few farms still left around here. For the moment. Otherwise it is strip mall/residential 'burb hell. I prefer my urban walkable areas. YMMV, of course. Oh yes, and it SNOWED this morning. grrrrrr
The pregnant lady ratio is very high. It is also somewhat disturbing to me that I'm the same age as at least some of the moms of the teenagers I see. Also disturbing? These:
What is it with the big eyes? I know about the manga girls blah blah blah but these are just creepy. Also spotted across the street: a Tangled poster. Yikes, too much eye for one day.
Sigh. I seem to be stuck in grumpus world today. I am cleaning out Dad's office. It's hard, in both the way you'd think and other ways. So, public service announcement: If you have packrat tendencies, please please do me a favor and reconsider: do you really need all those pens? We are up to 10 staplers now, and that's not including the little portable ones.
I have a packrat habit all my own and right now I want to just go home and throw it all out. When Dad finally retired and they moved, he spent months going through and organizing this stuff. He told me this while we talking on the phone, last year. Right now I have an overwhelming urge to go out and just live and not buy any more crap. It's a horrid cliche but but I don't care: any day anyone can just walk out their door and be hit by a cement truck, metaphorically or otherwise.
And now of course, it's not just physical things you leave behind, but a whole computer, hard drives, and CDs full of files. He was in the middle of scanning in all the family photographs. There must be thousands. I'm trying to figure out where he left off. And here's hard #3: looking through all these old pictures, including snaps of me at 11, 14, 22.
I wish I hadn't been such a fuckup in high school and college. I wish I hadn't been so afraid, so self-conscious. There was so much I could have done and didn't. My head was messed up, sure, but I didn't even bother trying to put it together. Not like it's all that great now, but I at least have some kind of concept of myself. I have also dialed the self-loathing far back, which (quel surprise!) helps quite a lot. Maybe I've just gotten to a point where I just don't really care any more, but that's nicely freeing, actually. I look at that girl in those old photos and just want to shake her up. Stop being such an idiot.
Anyway, nothing I can do about it now, except learn.
I need some cute. Who else needs some cute? How about some hot chicks?
We went to the IFA for some fruit trees, and the store was full of a persistent cheeping. Mmm, bring on those google searches.
6 comments:
Not to make too much light of your unpleasantness, but you might consider sending those staplers to a local college. The college kids here never seem to be able to find a stapler when their papers are due.
I had someone get angry with me the other day in class because I didn't bother to carry my office stapler to class with me just so she could staple her paper...
Hugs! I've been reconsidering my pack rat tendencies (especially since we are definitely preparing to move), but it's hard. I'm sure your mom appreciates your help!
You can get through this, sweetie. You WILL NOT let Utah break you.
Oh, yeah, and welcome to the club. If I knew then, blah blah blah...
I'd come get you, but dude... Utah?! o.O
xoxox
I dunno where Suburban Utah is, but you could arrange to meet up with Cheryl (Cabled Sheep) and/or Margene at some point.
Having combined residences with a man who keeps EVERYTHING (not kidding) I sympathize.
It's also depressingly likely that suburban Utah looks like everyone other suburban Somewhere USA. Cookie cutter precision. (No resemblance to the actual Cookie).
I hear you on the packrat tendencies. When we moved the office downstairs last August I was tossing all of Dad's "Let's Get Organized" books but if I'd realized he had 217 (wild guess), I'd've piled them first & taken a pic.
Now now, don't be mean to LittleAlice. She was coping the best she could at the time. I'm just glad I didn't realize I couldn't naturally morph into confident maturity with a fabulous job or I might have stepped in front of a bus in my teen years.
Thanks forr writing
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