Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Save the Elephants

I went to the circus once when I was ten years old.  I never went back.  I enjoyed the human performers but I hated everything else.  An elephant was strapped down to give rides.  This was her whole existence.  She would allow children to her back and walk in a slow circle.  The only other part of her life involved living in a train car until she would again be tied to another pole in another city.

It makes me angry and sad at the same time.  It frustrates me beyond belief because I could never do anything for that elephant.  She deserved to be running around in gigantic grass fields.  She deserved to know life beyond a train car window. 

I remember seeing a large cat in a cage and I felt so sorry for it.  What could I do for him?  I couldn't buy him or set him free.  And what's more, I could never do anything for any of the animals forced to live in the circus.  I'd always longed for a job with meaning, but what am I supposed to do, quit and save the entire world?  I would barely make a noticeable dent.

We watched "The Rise of the Planet of the Apes" a couple days ago on DVD.  Awesome prequel and done quite well.  (If only the sequels were half as good)  A virus wipes out most of humanity while a race of apes develops the world.  I told Shawn it would serve us right if something like that happened.  For what we've done to the animals and their planet, for testing on them, and forcing them to be kiddie play things.

Why did God give us charge over the animals?  Surely He would have known how the majority of us would have treated the critters?  It ought to be the other way around.  Animals do not sexually abuse their young.  They do not torture.  They do not pollute and invent dangerous drugs. 

But what can I do?  I feel like I cannot do anything except be frustrated over it, saddened, and deeply angered.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

What A Terrible World

It's Christmas morning.  I flipped on the TV for background noise while I played with the puppy.  A new commercial for The Human Society came on.  A boxer with a disfigured face was shown.  His face was mutilated from years of dog fights.  A cow was seen being pushed over with a fork lift.  A horse that was forced to starve was shown.  I have seen skinny horses before, but never one so pitifully thin.

The first images made me cringe but when the video of the cow being pushed with a fork lift was shown, I began to bawl.  My tears fell on the puppy in my lap and she stood up on my leg and began to furiously lick my jaw.  I just sat there and cried.

I hate this world, I thought.  Why are we allowed to go on and live?  If you look around, the cruel out number the humane.  The greedy seem to out number the generous.  If you don't believe me, visit a mall or a mega retailer two days before Christmas.  We shoot each other over sneakers and pepper spray each other over a sale.  A sale!  You have a weapon so use it to take what you want instead of inflicting pain unnecessarily.  Don't shoot someone so you can buy sneakers.  Use the gun as a threat and just take the darn sneakers!

In the newspaper I read of a four year old that was beaten to death.  His body had various stages of healing bruises.  I read about a baby girl--a baby!--that was sexually assaulted and left with a broken pelvis.

Why are we allowed to live?  Such a beautiful world, destroyed by humanity.  Crushed by the ugly human spirit.  Why doesn't God destroy it now?  Honestly, I don't want to be here if things get much worse.  I get so angry when I see & read about these things.  I cry because there's nothing--NOTHING--I can do to change things.  People are still cruel.  Disgusting men still assault tiny babies and beat children, allow animals to starve.

My hands shake with anger and also with pure frustration because I sit here and can do nothing about it. 

Why does God wait so long for things to get so bad?  How much worse is He going to allow us to act before bringing down His fist?

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

What Christmas Has Become

I don't have time to be sitting here, typing.  I wanted to write it while the details were fresh in my mind.

I've caught myself thinking, in secret, "I hate Christmas."  This statement does not actually, literally mean that I hate Christmas.  I hate what it is today.  I went to the grocery store on Monday and the parking lot was packed.  It was raining and I had to hike a quarter mile from my parking space to the store.  A typical seven minuet drive can take up to twenty minuets due to the shoppers on the road, all on the hunt for that one special, perfect gift.

Bah humbug.  Yeah, you heard me.  When I was a child, it was much more simple.  All my family, extended cousins included, would gather at my grandmother's house for warmth, fellowship, shredded wrapping paper and mounds of food.  All it is anymore is time spent in the car, in line, waiting, searching, sorting, wrapping....

At Wal-Mart today I had actual groceries to get as well as a handful of gifts; a few pounds of candy for my Aunt Louise who is stuck in a nursing home, a couple gift cards.  I picked a non-threatening line and awaited to check out my items.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  I anxiously tore at the package of my nicotine gum and feigned patience.

The lady in front of me scrutinized every price of every item.  She claimed those specific tomatoes were listed as $1.84 and not $1.87 as they had rung up.

LADY, HERE'S THREE CENTS; HERE'S FIVE DOLLARS NOW LET'S GO!!!!!!!

I was not aware until it was finally my turn what was the main cause for the slow progression of the check out line.  The cashier had one normal arm and one tiny, short arm.  Do not misunderstand me.  I do not fault this woman for her abnormality.  I fault stupid Wal-Mart for placing this poor woman as a cashier approximately 11 days from Christmas.  In hindsight, there is an older fellow who also has a similar abnormality and he pushes a broom up and down the ailes.  It works great for him and Wal-Mart. 

For this reason, I stood in line for twenty minuets (or six hours).  Next, I hit the mall to pick up an order I had placed for Mom to help her out (for Shawn's God-awful jeans size--the freak) and to pick up more gift cards for my four nieces.

Dear God, the mall.  There's a reason I never go in there.  By the time I was done, it was raining good and hard and I had developed pit stains from pushing through the mobs.  On the way home, the thoughts of what Christmas used to be and what it has become tumbled in my mind.

An old mix CD played in the stereo and out of the blue, unexpected, Sarah McLaughlin began to sing, "This, this is Christ the King...." 

As I drove what we affectionately call The Back Loop, I began to sob.  This was not just any cry.  This was the kind of cry that produces seriously high-pitched inhales, gasping for breath, and weeping.  Once home, it was over.  The front of my shirt was wet.  The feeling of overwhelm had vanished as the members of Linkin Park played "New Divide" over the speakers. 

Make lunches, feed the dogs, the cat, separate the receipts and mark the budget, put away laundry, mark the purchase orders for the business, meet Gloria and her husband for a business dinner at 7 o'clock.....  I rallied my brain to reset because I had one million things to get done and only a few short hours to do them in.

Because this is what Christmas has become....

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Old Chums

I ran into a girl I went to high school with yesterday at Wal-Mart, child in tow of course.  She asked how I was.  She seemed so happy.  I don't mean happy, like when someone wins a prize on Wheel of Fortune, I mean....happy.

So what do say when an old chum asks how you are?  You certainly don't tell them the truth.  What am I going to say, that I hate my life, I despise my job, my house is cold and I'm stressed to the max?  I don't think so.  No, you would say what I had said.  "Great!  Everything's great!"  You say the same thing at the check out when the cashier asks.

Because no one actually wants to know how you are.  You don't tell the cashier you've had constipation or diarrhea.  No, you give the standard answer to be polite. 

"Great, fine.  How are you doing?"

I bought $7 in scratch off lottery tickets today, hoping to win my way out of my current situation (as there are zero jobs locally).  I've NEVER spent more than $2 at a time or within the same week on lottery.  Once--only one--did I spend $3 on a ticket.

I didn't even win a dollar back.  I felt a tremendous amount of guilt as I pondered that I had just spent $7 of grocery money and pissed it away like it was nothing.  But I'm fine, thanks.  How are you doing?

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

A Sea of Me

Darrell stopped his treatments.  He went to Wimberly to be with his boys and their families.  It's a three hour drive.  Mom's a mess.  I called her last night and she cried over the phone for forty minuets.  It's strange how he entered our lives again and will probably be taken away just as quickly.  Stage four is bad news for a cancer patient not wanting to continue treatment.

"Little kids do this!" Mom lamented.  It's hard to understand unless you've been through it I suppose. 

Nonetheless, I've been wrapped up in a big negative sea of me lately, despite my outward appearance.  Maybe it's lack of sunshine or heat.  Maybe all this stuff is just getting to me...  Because someone was too busy to actually drive and only drive, my car was smashed up & I was forced to get this Jeep Grand Cherokee because it was well, available and cheap.  Lucky me, I get to get used to driving this Mega Beast during the height of the Christmas shopping season.

People find out it has leather seats and go, "Ooooooooo!"  Let me tell you, those suckers are COLD in the morning.  And my laundry and groceries slide around with each turn and lane change. 

There's things I want, tangible and intangible.  I don't know how to get them.  I'm cold and I hate my frickin' job.  I wish I had more time to drive to and fro and spend that time with loved ones that are dying, either from old age or sickness.

I wish we had a gigantic shed in which for Shawn to put his business, a new house with warm rooms and carpets that weren't soaked in dog urine.  I wish Shawn would quit smoking.  I wish he could quit his job and do the business full time, bring me along so I could quit my stupid, cold, dirty job.

I wish everyone in my family didn't have cancer.

Three cousins:  Stomach, bone, and testicular cancer, respectively.
Both grandmothers: Brain and breast cancer, respectively
Great Aunt:  Skin cancer multiple times (no matter how she protected herself) and now lung cancer
Uncle:  Skin cancer

I know I'm forgetting someone or a couple of someones.  It's getting difficult to keep up and remember.

My Aunt Louise is sitting in a nursing home just waiting to die.  I don't have enough hours in the week to make the long drive to see her.  When I do get a free afternoon, I'm so exhausted I don't want to do anything but the bare minimum.  I'm so tired of being tired all the time.

I bought a lottery ticket for tonight.  I rarely buy lottery tickets.  I don't need $20 million....  Just enough to put us in house in the country so Shawn can move all his equipment there and work from the backyard.  Just enough so he can quit his job and focus on this business.

.....and maybe a little left over so I can trade the Mega Beast for a nice used sedan.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

I'm Too Exhausted to Title This

Today was an interesting day.  Mom's birthday is Monday.  I have no slacks that fit in case of a sudden funeral.  I am down to three pair of jeans, all of which have holes or patches covering holes.  So I asked Mom if she'd like to go shopping with me & I would take her to lunch for her birthday (since I didn't buy a gift). 

Right off the bat, Shawn had issues again at the shop so I attempted to install the old software to see if that might work better.  It didn't.  Mom & I left Shawn in a state of despair.  I myself was in a state of despair.  Mom was also in a state of despair due to everyone in the family having cancer.

Shawn told me to go "have fun and enjoy the day".  Yuck.  I hate shopping and I didn't want to do it.  In the first store fatigue/caffeine crash hit me pretty hard, followed by the frustration of finding pants of any given variety made for someone who is five feet tall (they don't exist).  Finally, after many, many stores I found two pair of jeans that I wasn't in love with but could maybe develop a friendly relationship with.

I found a pair of slacks that fit but were about 8 inches too long.  Good thing I'm in good with a professional seamstress.  It's good to know people.  I spent the $100 that I took out of savings.  I figured it was my car that was wrecked and "sold" to the insurance people.  I figured I deserved to spend that money even though I detest clothing shopping and abhor spending money.  Yeah me.

Once home, more issues.  I apologized to Mom profusely for how the day went.  We were inteding to see my uncle who just had a second round of chemo yesterday.  Mom said he really likes me.  "Really?!" I said.  I'm not a real likable person, you see.  The personality of my uncle closely resembles my own.  Me thinks we are a bit cynical about life in general. 

I spent four more hours at the shop with Shawn and spent most of the time trying not cry.  I read an email previously that announced to my fragile heart that yet another family member had been diagnosed with lung cancer.  I bawled immediately and tried to hold it together while I lent Shawn a hand and tried to remain in a standing position while chugging back diet sodas.

FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, that stupid machine cut something!  I could not be inside for the smoke.  I left coughing, hacking, gripping my inhaler and sat on the sidewalk in the dark and the rain and just bawled.  It was mixed.  I might say I was crying out of pure happiness but I was so exhausted it was a mixed emotion.

Once home, I got the full scoop on the lung cancer and it turns out that it's teeny tiny spot, very treatable.  It put my mind at ease a little but of course never 100%

With our family history I am nearly destined to get either cancer or a heart attack.  Thank the Lord I quit smoking and (almost) red meat.  I gotta take better care of myself.  Shawn wants me to see if there's some kind of cancer gene test.  So what if there is?  Either they tell me I'll get it or not.  They can't prevent it.  Either I get it or I don't.  And if I worry about I'll make myself sick just from worrying about it.  So I don't.

Christmas is in three weeks and even though I've already decided that everyone is getting a gift card (the gift that says, "Here!  You do it!") I feel like I don't have an ounce of energy to spare for this event.  And still, I fantasize about spending three days baking cookies and making treats for everyone I know.

Maybe next year....

Friday, December 2, 2011

Pushing On.....

I missed Jimmy's funeral all because I didn't have a car.  I might have caught a ride with my uncle for the forty minuet drive but he got sick.  And I didn't have anything appropriate to wear anyways so I never called him.

Jimmy had been in hospice for the last two months.  The cancer had spread to his bones and his liver was failing near the end.  For several weeks he would wake up and think he was back in Vietnam.  His wife, Judy practically lived at the VA for the last 2 months.  I felt so awful for missing the funeral....

I picked up the Jeep from our mechanic.  I must be a heretic because everyone loves it but me.  It drives like a semi truck.  I've never driven anything but little bubble cars.  My short, squatty legs aren't built for anything else.  At red lights, I'm so petrified that my foot will slip off the brake pedal.  It'll start to cramp up and the muscle in my leg gets tight.  It takes longer to slow down, to stop and I don't know where the rear end in that thing is when I make lane changes (a red Nissan honked and told me so!).

Shawn asked me, "Do you really not like it or are you just not used to it?"  Does it really matter?  I'm kinda stuck here.  "It runs," I told him.  '"It get me from here to there."

Shawn & I have been at odds.  His temper is outta control and he's taking it out on me a lot.  Things have been going wrong and there have been so many disasters.  He told me he was stressed out.  I told him I was just as stressed out only I had someone screaming at me & blaming things on me that weren't my fault added to the mix. 

I lost three pounds in just in a few days.  (usually that would take a month so I know it's due to stress and not eating properly)  I'm guzzling coffee just to keep going for a few more hours.  Time is a precious thing these days and it seems everyone I bump into is doing everything they can to spend it for me.  If only I had an extra two hours per day, along with two more hours of viable energy to go with it....

Going into to all this....If I had an inkling of how stressful all this would be, I probably would not have done it.  I say that but I suppose I don't really mean it.  This is Shawn's dream; not mine.  It's easy for me to say things like that.  I am emotionally and physically drained.  Spent. 

I'm so tired.  I tired of being angry.  I'm tired of crying because something isn't going right or because someone screamed at me out of a personal frustration.  My body hurts.  I'm just so tired....

I wish people would stop telling me that it'll get better, that there's a light at the end of the tunnel.  They tell me God only gives you what you can handle.  If that's true, why does anyone commit suicide?  For once, just once, I wish someone would say, "You're right.  Everything is shit right now."  Maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel....at the end a long, liquor-induced nap.

Boy, I could really go for a nap.