Lady L and I road-tripped to Little Havana in Miami today, to try the famed Versailles’ Cuban sammiches. We also got fried plantains, cafe con leche, guava cookies and a delicious Spanish Baguette sammich (with chorizo and Manchego. Dear God, YUM).
We also spent the afternoon with her friends D and L, and their precious five-month-old daughter. Who is by far the cutest baby I have ever, ever seen.
And of course, there’s that stupid twinge that I want one. But I liked her because she’s adorable, she was quiet and cooing and ridiculously enjoyable in her stylish outfit in her bouncy chair. Toss in poopy diapers, a meltdown and the teenage years and, yeah, that kills the baby fantasy REAL quick.
So I decided I will be a foster parent. I can keep a kid during infant and toddler years. Then I can hand the kid back to its (rehabilitated) parents when it starts to need shit.
I had this long, ridiculous conversation (argument?) with the UEOEH yesterday. And I bottom-lined it that she needs to exit, stage left, pronto. I cannot even look at her anymore. I just want her gone.
I hear that a cousin is very angry with me — that I don’t take “good enough care” of my mother. The FUCK? Apparently she told my mother that had my mom gone to live with her, she would have given her access to health care and helped her get a job.
I’m like, A) WTF is she withholding said help for, and B) how soon can I put your ass on a plane?
I guess the offer expired four years ago. Apparently said cousin had asked me, casketside, if I wanted her to “take” my mom and I said no. So this is all MY fault. (God DAMN the UEOEH needs a new fucking tune to sing.)
I said, well, why does anybody need to TAKE her? Who the fuck thought that four years after my grandfather died, she’d still be sitting on her ass, watching the Food Network in my master bedroom? If I knew she would still be more dependent than an infant, fuck YEAH I would have said to banish her to the Midwest, never to be seen again. I didn’t want my cousin to be burdened … but I never DREAMED I would be, either.
Anyway, that was probably the highlight of the two-hour conversation. I seriously just can’t take another minute of this and I don’t know why she doesn’t shove the fuck off now that I have clarified (for the 40th time) that I don’t want her here.
She says that life is so short and that I will regret not being nice to my mother. I said, no, life is so short that I will regret having to waste so much time having her underfoot and not doing the things I want or enjoying my apartment because she won’t leave it.
I’m at my wits’ end on a lot of things right now. Her, first and foremost, but after enjoying the beauty and luxury of D and L’s apartment, I think luxury is what I want. No, I know it. I’m tired of struggle and annoyance and worry and waiting. I’ve done enough of each.
I think I see a clear path to the life I want. But I need to put all the distractions in check. I rediscovered my motivation. And damn it, I’m over this plateau. I’m gearing up to move up.
It’s been a busy weekend. I reconnected with some folks last night. Really had a wonderful time. It reminded me that there are some really intelligent, competent, loving and downright extraordinary people in my life. And that while I often think God is torturing me by putting all my friends in other cities, He’s done just fine by having great people right here for me.
At church tonight, Pastor John said something that I actually wrote down: “How can you be in a love relationship with someone you don’t spend time with?” It was about making time every day to hang with God, but it hit me on a variety of levels. I don’t spend the time with God that He deserves.
I was also thinking that my luck always seems to change for the better when Lady L and I are hanging out. We have “parking karma” and “seating karma” and “travel karma” and all kinds of positive events that we chalk up to having collective good karma.
When I’m with the UEOEH, the meal is always wrong, someone walks into her and dislocates her shoulder, the traffic sucks, there are no good parking spots and, well, I have to pick up the check anyway. 🙂 I’d much rather pay for a great experience.
The argument with UEOEH yesterday started over her saying she was dressed and ready to go out. And my reply was my usual disinterested, “Good for you.” Which turned into her asking me if I’m embarrassed to be seen with her. (The hell?!?!) And I said, point-blank, that I can’t stand being around her and I shouldn’t have to be subjected to entertaining her on top of everything else when I hate being in the same zip code with her these days.
I don’t know. I feel like I should start focusing — really focusing — on work and travel. That’s it. Just put (and keep) the blinders on and bust my butt to afford the rewards I want.
Let’s face it, UEOEH isn’t going anywhere. I’m not going to have a warm body in my bed anytime soon. I’m not going to fit into the smallest size in my closet (that I was wearing at this time last year. Le sigh). I’ve got to just do what I know how to do … and that’s to work, and to leave. At least I’m good at something.
2010 wasn’t the year of “happy” that I expected. It was one of change, though, and that’s just fine. 2011 will be the happy year. I just have to lay the groundwork right now first.
