2002-11-19

Just when you think you're a rational human being with most stuff sorted out in your head and your sociopathy carefully concealed...

It seems you can analyze all the shit you want to in your life but when it comes down to actually dealing with stuff things can get kinda messy. Today my mother was on the phone giggling and laughing like a schoolkid (well like i assume she would have done as a schoolkid). All because she was talking of her new boyfriend whom she has been with for all of three weeks. My parents split up when I was five. The rational part of me kicked in at about seven and I accepted that they would never ever get back together. Since then my ma and pa have both been remarried a couple of times, and there is a hell of a lot of water under the bridge. So why am I so damn upset about my mother proclaiming her undying love for some guy that, even though she has known him her whole life, she has only been dating him for three weeks?

Fark, I am ropeable!

Perhaps it is because he is the father of a kid who was my arch enemy in sixth grade, DD. The one who began the taunts of "Beachball" that haunted me until I became a bad-ass mother fucker in tenth grade. The one who put chewing gum in my hair, subsequently forcing me to have it all cut off short, so short that i looked like a tubby little boy (I didn't have tits or a waist in sixth grade). DD's grown up now too, and works, and has a house, and pays bills; but inside me there is still a twelve year old with a fuckload of resentment against lil ole bully boy DD.

I am scared for my mum as well - what if this guy drops her on her head and she is left crying and heartbroken once more? Christknows I fed her Valium while trying to study for my high school exams (which came one day after she kicked her second husband out of the house for cheating on her with her best friend). And I have held her hand through divorces and boyfriends and affairs du cour previously... so why do I suddenly actually care? Maybe he is, as she says, her 'soulmate'. Maybe I don't believe that my 52 year old mum should be dating? Maybe I am jealous that she is gettin' some... woah, now that's weird.

Bottom line is - I am unsettled by her declaration of love for this guy, and I feel somehow cheated that because she couldn't get her shit together early enough in life I missed out on having a Dad. Hmmm. Now that I break it down, that's what i am really upset about. Sigh. Freudian self-therapy bites.

In other, less self-obsessed news, I went out drinking with the Flying Finn and Madame Lottie last eve, and we had a jolly old time dissecting human sexuality. Lottie shares my interest in the ins and outs of human sexual oddities, and da Finn learnt some fabulous new terms from us including furries, plushies, and choppers. Always glad to be of some instructional value, and always glad to hear of Lottie's adventures in blog land.

Lottie, da Finn and myself imbibed many brews until it was time for me to re-create the seventies by attempting to drive home pissed, which I accomplished successfully. All was well until I realised it was 2am and work began again in six hours, so the insomnia kicked in leaving me tired and thrashing until the wee smalls. There was no sex to be had, not even a fantasy, so i was stuck with a backlog of frickin day thoughts to process. Grrrrrr.

Must find a cure for thinking - it is proving to be very bad for my health.

bitch - moan