Totally Random Shit

totally random shit
Current mood: sick


So it's December, it's 10:52 am, and I got 3.25 hours of sleep last night, and that's AFTER a 3/4 dose of Nyquil. I've been sick for so long now that I don't remember what it's like not to be, and I'm supposed to be (wo)manning a booth at Wintermarkt with Allison, my wee friend.

And I would be, if it weren't 37 degrees and raining. But something about being barely sentient, snot-filled and outdoors in St. Louis dreck weather doesn't fill me with glee. So I'm here instead, enjoying the company of my overwhelmed husband, similarly sick son, and the strains of Johnny Test in the background. I have a rare moment to reflect on the past year, and this is my summation.

This has been the worst year to date since I was about 17.

Really, all hyperbole aside, this year has sucked like a cyborg whore with a Dyson for an esophagus. Sucked like Jar-Jar Binks, Kevin Federline's music career, New Coke, and Branson put together. Like Donald Trump's hairdo and fat ass combined.

My grandmother died this year. The woman who was, along with my grandfather, the sole source of unconditional, functional love in my entire family for me, is gone forever. That in itself is enough to make a banner shit year, but there have been some runners-up in the Grand Caca Pageant, and without dwelling too long on the particulars, I'd like to list the most notables.

Worst Birthday Ever: In addition to having no party this year, which is unheard of in my birthday-centric world, I was also a.)stood up by my mom on my birthday for lunch after driving around west county convinced I had the wrong restaurant location since no one showed up, and b.)issued a speeding ticket the day after.

Parenting means always having to say you're sorry: My lovely son, who turned two this year, is a normal toddler boy. That is to say, he's a beautiful brown eyed tornado, with similar impulse control and destructive capabilities. I do my best to run around after him, but as any parent can tell you, that's the sum total of what you can do. There's a reason they don't call it the Terrific Twos, or the Totally Zen Twos or some such shit. People without kids, however, are fond of telling you what you are doing wrong, since they have vast personal experience sitting near parents and clucking their tongues. I put up with no less than 5 or 6 instances of people being rude to my face this year, and let me tell you, that's it. Next person who hasn't figured out not to poke the tattooed mom with the big arms and angry scowl is going to learn why you shouldn't--fast. Just because my kid is throwing a tantrum doesn't mean you get to. He's two; his behaviour is understandable even if it's annoying. Which brings me to my next contender.

Goodbye, Hartford. Those of you who know me, ignore this. You've heard this story a hundred times. I repeat myself, particularly when pissed off. In the time we've been parents, My husband and I have dropped close to a grand at Hartford Coffee. It's one of maybe three places in St. Louis you can take a small child when you want to eat. When I found out about it pre-pregnancy, I thought it was a smashing idea. I loved the community feel, the hip moms sitting around talking to one another, the good coffee and food, and friendly staff. It felt like exactly the place I wanted to hang out at when I had a kid, so when I had a kid, I did. And it was great. Until this year. This year, the old owners sold the place, and the new owners took an employee who had previously been fired (and with good reason) and made her a manager. Within two months' time, they lost their entire staff. The food quality suffered, and the family-friendly atmosphere, well, changed. The aforementioned employee started spending all her time there, having no real life outside of work, and began to run the place like she had a mandate from god. The straw that broke the camels' back for me was when I was verbally assaulted in front of her and she took the (non-parent, possibly certifiable, non-food ordering) customers' side. Cooperella had opened by then, we had gotten friendly with the owner and staff, and I thought it was time to stop spending my money where I was no longer welcome. Since that day, I haven't stepped foot in Hartford, and when I've met up with former momquaintances I used to see from there, their experience has been similar. It's a shame, really, because the old Hartford was so wonderful. So if the owners have googled this by happenstance, you should really think about who you employ to represent your company. Probably it shouldn't be a woman who announces the consistency of her period to the people whose food she's serving. (I so wish I were kidding.)

Those are just the ones off the top of my head. The instances have been too numerous to mention, and seem to include everyone around me. My best friend is having job ills that are actually making her physically sick, my husband has had job woes totalling the entire year, friends of friends are dying unexpectedly (the death toll this week is up to 15--it's really been a bad year.), the health of some close pals of mine have taken turns for the worse, so really, this is the year to feel marked by bad karma. There are no two ways about it, this is a shit year.

If there's one bright spot in the totality of this crapfest, it's that I've met some very, very good friends whom I've had the pleasure of growing extremely close to in a pretty short period of time. There isn't a bad one among them, or their spouses and offspring. So: Robins 1 & 2, Mia, Jill, and less often but not forgotten Raquel, I raise my glass to you. Or would, if I were currently holding one. Your kids and mine will take over the world one day, god help us.

And let me welcome Mona back after all these years. Proof positive that just because you lose touch for 14 years, doesn't mean it's forever.

So there have been some bright spots in a very dark year. Still, I'll be toasting the fuck out of years' end, because I'll be motherfucking glad to see this one go away forever.