Where is the FB relationship status, “Ask me again and I’ll stab you in the eye with a fork.”

So, my best mate Liz and I have been kind of on the same path in the relationship world… we’re both waiting for our divorces to finalize and we’re both dating. The difference is, she’s “in a relationship” with her man and has recently made it legit on Facebook.

Holy shit, that’s serious. HOLY FUCKING SHIT, LIZ!!! YOU ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP AND MADE IT PUBLIC ON FACEBOOK.

I mean, congratulations to Liz! I love you and I’m so happy for you and your guy, but the actual idea of taking that step has me flailing my stumpy arms and running into a wall. Now, this is not a jab at my guy, he’s on the same page as me… we spend quite a bit of time together, our sons are the best of friends, but we are both sprinting towards opposite hills at the mere mention of “relationship”.

However, I was on Facebook tonight, being very nosy and noticed my man’s FB page stated he was “single” and my immediate reaction was, WHOA. HOLD UP. 

And this is where you mutter to yourself, “Good Lord, she’s such a typical woman.”

And you know what? I fucking am. I’m a bat-shit crazy WOMAN who bathes in psycho water while eating chicken wings, scheduling and then canceling and then rescheduling an appointment for a lobotomy because I don’t know what the fuck I want.

I can’t even say, “[insert my man’s name here] and I are dating.” It sort of comes out as, “So, [man’s name], um and, um I AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH SHIT gargle gargle, uh darting?” And I honestly think I said, “darting” instead of “dating” because I suddenly have Tourettes when discussing my relationship status.

And you know what? If my man decides to change his relationship status to “in a relationship”, I would shit myself. And perhaps smear feces all over my laptop so I wouldn’t have to read it, ever again.

I think there should just be a relationship status: “I’m too fucked up to know.”

Advertisements

Didn’t I use to be funny?

Thanks for everyone’s comments on the post of my parents. The good news is, my father was discharged from the hospital a day earlier than anticipated and he seems to be recovering fine. In fact, he is very much back to himself as I just received several spam emails from him this morning. He likes to forward a ton of junk to everyone he knows… no matter how offensive or inappropriate.

So, I’m finding myself quite perplexed with the lack of humor I’ve been emitting. Or, perhaps I’m just being drowned out by the new people in my life who are damn hilarious. Let’s take a look at exhibit A, one of my bosses, Nate:

Nate spends quite a bit of time strutting his dance floor moves and exercising a serious set of pipes. I’m not sure how, but we do get work done even between all the laughter and silliness that ensues. Today, Nate had to sport a pair of slippers at work due to a broken toe. The persistent sound of his tiny feet shuffling behind me instantly brought me back to the days of volunteering at a nursing home. OH MY GOD, that fucking nursing home my parents insisted on “volunteering” at, which consisted of entertaining the comatose crowd with my father’s tone deaf karaoke singing. If the deathly sound of my father’s mangled English didn’t bring the crowd from the dead, then it was my mother’s insistence of force feeding Little Debbie treats down those poor old people who couldn’t even run because my mother would wheel them down from their rooms in their wheelchairs shouting, “PAWTY TIME! PAWTY TIME!”

If that is my future, kill me now.

Ok, back to the shuffling slippered feet… I distinctly remember one toothless elderly man who was covered in tattoos of nekkid women. That sneaky mother fucker would shuffle up to me from behind, grab my arm and cling for dear life. I couldn’t understand a word he said to me, I just remembered his toothless grin and that awful elderly stench which was probably their insides just rotting from the inside out. Again, if that is my future, please just smother me in my sleep with a down euro pillow, preferably with a 800 fill power. You won’t have to hold it over my sleeping face for very long with that amount of fluff.

So now, every time I hear Nate’s slippers shuffling behind me, I tense up and whip around only to find my harmless supervisor. Who sings and dances around the store like a fucking fairy on meth.

Thanks for making my life bearable, Nate.

7500 miles away

My mother and father were hardworking people– 7 days a week, 12-15 hours a day to provide for their family. As a result, there wasn’t much of a presence in the parental department. I either helped in the kitchen (where my mother ran a catering business out of our home) or lived out little Mia’s La La Land and played by myself. Very little was exchanged between me and my parents and as a result, I never quite picked up Taiwanese growing up. Since my parents never learned to speak English over the 30 years they resided in the states, I don’t communicate with them very much.

I received the very sad news today that my father is currently in the ICU from a heart attack this past weekend. I don’t have details, but he will head into surgery tomorrow morning. My mother just recently recovered from her second eye surgery, as she was losing her vision rapidly in the last few months.

I’m not particularly close to either one of my parents… let’s just say the relationship has always been tumultuous. I’ve always struggled with the idea of staying in contact with them during my adult life, but chose to, for the sake of my children and building some sense of family for them. My boys still ask about their grandparents, as they usually see them during this time of year since my parents live 6 months in the states and 6 months in Taiwan. Due to the state of their health, they have decided to stay in Taiwan. And even though there is a huge language barrier between my boys and my parents, they still have a large bond. As shitty as they were as parents, they certainly made up for it as grandparents.

My reaction to the news about my father was rather shocking to me. I was devastated. To be honest, I’ve always longed for their distant absence, in hopes of moving on with my life and past. At the same time, I’ve never felt such a sinking sensation this news has brought me. And so helpless or alone, 7500 miles away.

I struggle with my feelings today and I imagine I will continue to for quite some time. For now, I just need to breathe and let it all sink in.

Slowly, but surely

Oh my, it’s been a while… between new jobs, finding a place for me and my boys to live and the boys starting school (Yikes! Phoenix is in kindergarten!), it’s been cuckoo crazy over here. Let me just say, moving from 3500 square feet to about 1200 was a real bitch. Don’t get me wrong, the new space is fantastic, but there was much donating and throwing out.

Surprisingly, the transition went pretty smoothly — wait, I bet something disastrous will occur within the next 24 hours simply because I stated that. The biggest thanks goes to one of my closest mates, Liz who resides with her 3 kids in the apartment right above mine and now, we have dubbed the building as “The Commune”. Since her kids and my kids are close friends, it’s a constant playdate heaven over here. Liz and I also take turns cooking dinners or watching each other’s kids or just having “girl time” after the kids head off to sweet, sweet slumber. Another big help are the dads who live close by, one in the building next door and another just 3 blocks away, who often take my boys to the park or help contribute to cookouts while the weather remains warm. My boys remain happy with the constant contact they have with their friends and positive adult male figures in their lives… not that their father isn’t, they just don’t get to see him as often as they’d like due to his job.

As for the apartment… I’ve never rented in my life, I’ve always owned so this is a bit of a change for me. Considering that I love color and prints, moving into a blank canvas with bone white walls is driving me a little nutty. I’m almost done unpacking (working two jobs, running a business and juggling kids leaves little time for me to get things done). Often times, I’m so overwhelmed with my lengthy todo list, it has me in a full on deer-caught-in-the-headlights mode and I freeze. Literally.

So, decorating is extremely frustrating for me right now because I have NO money and I’m desperate to throw some paint on the walls. For now, I’m just slowly putting up artwork and arranging furniture where it fits. Over time, I will make the new home mine. I just need to be patient.

*The photo above is a corner of my living room… let’s just say it’s the “adult corner” as the rest of the living room has been taken over by kids.

 

Amidst the chaos…

My oldest returned home from camp. I raced from Jeff’s funeral to pick my son up from the luxury busses (air conditioning and movies?). Thanks to Bill for watching Phoenix as I headed over to pay my respects and for watching the boys while we sat shiva over the weekend. We all headed to McDonald’s afterwards and chilled in the AC. Colin had a great experience at camp and I’m glad he’s back home. It was really strange not having him around and it felt like a piece of me was missing.