Over at www.newsfromme.com, Mark Evanier writes yet again about the late night wars. He makes a very important point, one that is at the heart of why I was screaming at the TV earlier this year when Andy Richter was on Regis and Kelly. Richter said that The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien had good ratings during the summer before Jay Leno came on at 10:00. That's a bald-faced lie, and one that once again leads the audience away from the fact of the matter: Conan was failing in his time slot even during the summer. I was so angry when the audience of Regis and Kelly wildly applauded Richer's statement.
The truth is that Conan O'Brien was failing and then Jay Leno came on at 10:00 and he failed and so surrounding the 11:00 news was a bunch of failure. Leno never, ever impacted O'Brien's ratings. He impacted the ad revenue for the 11:00 affiliates. I'm not saying Leno wasn't a failure. At 10:00 p.m., he was.
(I do, however, disagree that he failed because his show was too much like his old Tonight Show. I thought The Jay Leno Show was trying too hard to have humor like The Office and all of these droll, dry sketch shows we see popping up. The younger comedians he brought on want so badly to be as deadpan as Colbert or outraged as Jon Stewart - which if you think about it, are just rehashes of how Letterman was [deadpan] and Leno was [outraged] during the glorious Late Night with David Letterman years.)
I don't watch any of these shows anymore but I still, deep down, root for Jay Leno. I don't understand what decision he was supposed to make in 2004. The only decision anyone would have accepted, truly, was if he retired and left television altogether. If he had said, "No, I won't give up The Tonight Show in 2009," he would have been called a bully who wouldn't let anyone else play with his toys (although, according to Bill Carter's new book, Leno didn't have a choice in the matter anyway - NBC told him Conan was getting the show instead of negotiating with him like previously thought). The media, that hated him anyway, was not going to accept any situation other than Leno going away, out of sight out of mind. When it was announced he would do a 10:00 p.m. show, everyone was waiting for him to fail which, in my opinion, was really unfair.
It's just like the book, the bane of my existence, That Book (not it's real title), wherein the editors tell aspiring writers that when they (the editors, who work for book publishers) get a manuscript, they go into reading it looking for a reason to reject it. You know, just no. That's a horrible mindset. Then these editors go on to show examples of how writers who took their advice were published (by them) and writers who didn't weren't published (by them). Then - THEN! - they take excerpts from The Great Gatsby and rewrite it to show how following their advice could make even a classic all the better. I think I may have written about this before, but it's a really sore subject with me.
Anyway, I just think it was unfair of basically the entire television and media world to be waiting for Leno to fail. And then he did, and I'm not saying I don't agree that he did, but part of me wonders if the media might not have poisoned a few viewer's minds. I just feel like it's hard to succeed when what seems like the entire world is rooting against you.
December 30, 2010
December 28, 2010
December 17, 2010
Stalker
I believe my 15-year-old nephew is headed down a dangerous road. This morning, as I was getting out of the shower I noticed that someone had written fuck you LDJ on the mirror so when the mirror steams up you can read it. Now, you know, it's his handwriting.
I told my mom. She said, "Well someone's going to have to have a talk with him about it." I was like, "Yeah, you, where you tell him and his mother to get out."
Instead she calls his mother, who says, "How do you know it was him? Why does everyone accuse him of doing these things?"
Well...
a) He has said point blank to my face that he hates me. He really hates me, you know.
b) It's his handrwriting.
c) Who else has been here the past two days who hates me?
He tried to say he hasn't even taken a shower in the last, like, four days.
a) Ew.
b) Bullshit.
My mother kept saying they had no place to go, so she couldn't tell them to leave. I don't care at this point. I don't really have anywhere to go either, because this is my parents' house and it's where the harrassment is. I packed everything of value to take with me to work today, because I was sure that while no one was in the house my nephew would try to break down my locked door and destroy everything. Unfortunately for him, my brother decided to stay and protect the house for the first half of the day and my older nephew came home for the second half. Now I'm here, and he's already gotten in a fight with my mother because when he didn't help her bring in the groceries like she asked him and instead ignored her, she yelled and he said, "Of course, another thing I'm getting blamed for." What do you fucking mean? This isn't some discreet message on a bathroom wall. This is sitting right in front of her doing nothing when she asked you to help. You aren't getting blamed, you're getting held responsible. Except you're not, because you're still sitting there and you didn't have to help in the end anyway.
His older brother "had a talk with him today" and I'm supposed to feel better.
My sister said she's moving out at the first of the year. She says that every year. I told my mother that I was still moving out, too. But until one of us is gone, I won't come out of my bedroom for anything but the necessities.
My mother keeps trying to say she can't choose between her children. I want to understand, but when you have one daughter who won't contribute money, who smokes in the house when you've asked her not to (and in the car, and in your face), who cusses and screams everything she says, who doesn't always flush the toilet after taking a crap (and neither does her son), who doesn't have a car but won't give gas money for the car that takes her everywhere, who says she doesn't think she should have to use her foodstamps or her child support to pay the bills in the house she lives in because technically it isn't her house, who defends her child who terrorizes a small cat and has now begun to terrorize a human being, who has a son who punches holes in the wall when he doesn't get his way, who has a son who messes with you car when he's mad at you...
...and you have another daughter who keeps hidden in her room, may not do much of the housework but stays hidden so the messes shouldn't be her responsibility anyway, who pays the cable bill, the phone bill, the water bill, sometimes the insurance, and the credit cards every month, who makes sure there is always money left over to buy food, who pays for all of the repairs on the car everyone in the entire family uses, who puts 90% of the gas in said car, who paid off YOUR debts with the money from her second job, who paid off YOUR debt earlier this year so YOU wouldn't have to worry about it anymore and YOU went and put YOURSELF back in that debt because the other daughter needed money for god knows what because she has a job, no conceivable bills, and child support, who, when she takes over the household expenses always pulls us out of debt by the end of two months but YOU take back over because I'm asking for too much money when I ask for $500 a month from each person, and now that daughter is being stalked by a 15-year-old?
It's time to make a choice.
I told my mom. She said, "Well someone's going to have to have a talk with him about it." I was like, "Yeah, you, where you tell him and his mother to get out."
Instead she calls his mother, who says, "How do you know it was him? Why does everyone accuse him of doing these things?"
Well...
a) He has said point blank to my face that he hates me. He really hates me, you know.
b) It's his handrwriting.
c) Who else has been here the past two days who hates me?
He tried to say he hasn't even taken a shower in the last, like, four days.
a) Ew.
b) Bullshit.
My mother kept saying they had no place to go, so she couldn't tell them to leave. I don't care at this point. I don't really have anywhere to go either, because this is my parents' house and it's where the harrassment is. I packed everything of value to take with me to work today, because I was sure that while no one was in the house my nephew would try to break down my locked door and destroy everything. Unfortunately for him, my brother decided to stay and protect the house for the first half of the day and my older nephew came home for the second half. Now I'm here, and he's already gotten in a fight with my mother because when he didn't help her bring in the groceries like she asked him and instead ignored her, she yelled and he said, "Of course, another thing I'm getting blamed for." What do you fucking mean? This isn't some discreet message on a bathroom wall. This is sitting right in front of her doing nothing when she asked you to help. You aren't getting blamed, you're getting held responsible. Except you're not, because you're still sitting there and you didn't have to help in the end anyway.
His older brother "had a talk with him today" and I'm supposed to feel better.
My sister said she's moving out at the first of the year. She says that every year. I told my mother that I was still moving out, too. But until one of us is gone, I won't come out of my bedroom for anything but the necessities.
My mother keeps trying to say she can't choose between her children. I want to understand, but when you have one daughter who won't contribute money, who smokes in the house when you've asked her not to (and in the car, and in your face), who cusses and screams everything she says, who doesn't always flush the toilet after taking a crap (and neither does her son), who doesn't have a car but won't give gas money for the car that takes her everywhere, who says she doesn't think she should have to use her foodstamps or her child support to pay the bills in the house she lives in because technically it isn't her house, who defends her child who terrorizes a small cat and has now begun to terrorize a human being, who has a son who punches holes in the wall when he doesn't get his way, who has a son who messes with you car when he's mad at you...
...and you have another daughter who keeps hidden in her room, may not do much of the housework but stays hidden so the messes shouldn't be her responsibility anyway, who pays the cable bill, the phone bill, the water bill, sometimes the insurance, and the credit cards every month, who makes sure there is always money left over to buy food, who pays for all of the repairs on the car everyone in the entire family uses, who puts 90% of the gas in said car, who paid off YOUR debts with the money from her second job, who paid off YOUR debt earlier this year so YOU wouldn't have to worry about it anymore and YOU went and put YOURSELF back in that debt because the other daughter needed money for god knows what because she has a job, no conceivable bills, and child support, who, when she takes over the household expenses always pulls us out of debt by the end of two months but YOU take back over because I'm asking for too much money when I ask for $500 a month from each person, and now that daughter is being stalked by a 15-year-old?
It's time to make a choice.
December 16, 2010
If I Ever Won the Lottery
Honest to Shivu, I would travel from hotel to hotel, staying about a week or so in each. I would take train rides just for the hell of it. I would buy a decent laptop, and I would order books through the local bookstore of whatever town I was in and stay long enough for each of them to arrive (usually three days, as far as I've seen). I would pack my Kindle and find podunk laundromats where I would read creepy stories like Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? by Joyce Carol Oates.
(I thoroughly enjoyed that experience a few summers ago when we had no washer and dryer and one of the last remaining laundromats here was just around the corner from our apartment.)
One of my fears is that I don't have any life to draw from when I'm writing. I looked at one of Tony Doerr's books at the library the other day and I remember him telling us how he used to live in Africa, and also how he worked in Alaska gutting fish for a year, too. He travelled to Rome with his wife and sons. I wanted one of my characters to run away to a big city and the more I thought about it the more I wondered how authentic it would sound. I think I need to go somewhere.
Here's what stops me, and I know it might sound pathetic or childish to some, but it's my psychology. My parents are old. My father is obviously getting sick. Their other children are sucking the life out of them. They've always done everything I've ever needed of them. I don't know what they would do without me.
It's hard to abandon people you know would never abandon you. But I do need to get away. I've never felt more confident or more sexy or more restless than I have since I turned thirty. I feel a little like this is the last youth of my life and I don't want to waste it anymore. I've been telling my mother for the past few days that I'm planning on moving out when March comes because I'll have extra money once all the credit cards are paid off. I'm still going to need a second job. I don't even care right now if that job is at a grocery store.
I just applied at another technical college. I don't think their needs for teaching composition are the same as a liberal arts college, but I'm desperate. I'm waiting on a phone call back from my district manager to tell me if Meijer would be considered a competitor to my current job because they sell clothing. If they aren't considered a competitor, or if she tells me I can work there if I don't work in clothing, shoes, or jewelry, then my brother can probably get me a guaranteed job there.
Maybe I should move to Chicago. Maybe I should apply for a Ph.D. program. (My dissertation would be about the use of memory in literature, focusing on Borges's iconic vs. individual memory, backed by Nabokov's invoked vs. evoked memory, drawing on Abe Akira's woven memories, and Lauren Slater's false memories, and my own false memories, and Dorothy Allison's memories of the dead children who are replaceable because Southern women are baby factories. Or it would be about the separate way we read fiction as opposed to non-fiction. When we read fiction we often think of the events as choices made by the author as opposed to non-fiction, which we think of as a set of circumstances that happened to the "characters." Of course the two occasionally overlap, but not often. Or maybe I can combine the two, and talk about how fiction is iconic as it's often symbolic and non-fiction is individual as it's often recounting a specifically, supposedly true set of experiences.)
Anyway, maybe soon I'll start applying for Alaskan fish-gutting jobs on Careerbuilder.
(I thoroughly enjoyed that experience a few summers ago when we had no washer and dryer and one of the last remaining laundromats here was just around the corner from our apartment.)
One of my fears is that I don't have any life to draw from when I'm writing. I looked at one of Tony Doerr's books at the library the other day and I remember him telling us how he used to live in Africa, and also how he worked in Alaska gutting fish for a year, too. He travelled to Rome with his wife and sons. I wanted one of my characters to run away to a big city and the more I thought about it the more I wondered how authentic it would sound. I think I need to go somewhere.
Here's what stops me, and I know it might sound pathetic or childish to some, but it's my psychology. My parents are old. My father is obviously getting sick. Their other children are sucking the life out of them. They've always done everything I've ever needed of them. I don't know what they would do without me.
It's hard to abandon people you know would never abandon you. But I do need to get away. I've never felt more confident or more sexy or more restless than I have since I turned thirty. I feel a little like this is the last youth of my life and I don't want to waste it anymore. I've been telling my mother for the past few days that I'm planning on moving out when March comes because I'll have extra money once all the credit cards are paid off. I'm still going to need a second job. I don't even care right now if that job is at a grocery store.
I just applied at another technical college. I don't think their needs for teaching composition are the same as a liberal arts college, but I'm desperate. I'm waiting on a phone call back from my district manager to tell me if Meijer would be considered a competitor to my current job because they sell clothing. If they aren't considered a competitor, or if she tells me I can work there if I don't work in clothing, shoes, or jewelry, then my brother can probably get me a guaranteed job there.
Maybe I should move to Chicago. Maybe I should apply for a Ph.D. program. (My dissertation would be about the use of memory in literature, focusing on Borges's iconic vs. individual memory, backed by Nabokov's invoked vs. evoked memory, drawing on Abe Akira's woven memories, and Lauren Slater's false memories, and my own false memories, and Dorothy Allison's memories of the dead children who are replaceable because Southern women are baby factories. Or it would be about the separate way we read fiction as opposed to non-fiction. When we read fiction we often think of the events as choices made by the author as opposed to non-fiction, which we think of as a set of circumstances that happened to the "characters." Of course the two occasionally overlap, but not often. Or maybe I can combine the two, and talk about how fiction is iconic as it's often symbolic and non-fiction is individual as it's often recounting a specifically, supposedly true set of experiences.)
Anyway, maybe soon I'll start applying for Alaskan fish-gutting jobs on Careerbuilder.
Wednesday Meals
Breakfast:
Burrito:
Leftover Mexican Casserole
Mexican Cheese: $1.50
Wheat/Flavored Tortilla Shells: $1.80
Avocado: a bag of four for $2.99
Ranch Dressing: $1.99
Coffee with Milk and Sugar
Oh, yeah, I forgot sugar: $1.99
Lunch:
The rest of the avocado/ranch dip
Tortilla chips
Campbell's Mexican Tortilla soup: $1.59
Juice
Dinner:
Chef Boyardee Pizza Kit: $2.99
(All-inclusive and I only use half of the dough - the other half can go in the fridge for lunch the next day)
Juice
So, that's $14.85. So for two days we're up to a little less than $50, but a lot of this stuff will be used over and over again for the next few days. I'll need to replace the juice, the tortilla chips, and the bread most often, most likely.
Let's go ahead and plan for Thursday:
Breakfast:
Breakfast sandwich:
Bread
Cheese
Eggs: $.84 a dozen
Ham: $3.50 a package of 9 oz.
Coffee, blah blah blah....
Lunch:
Pizza, all-inclusive from the day before
juice
Dinner:
Cous-cous: $2.39 a box
Pork Chops: $3.29 or so for a small package
Brussel Sprouts (yummy!): $1.50 for a frozen bag
juice (this will probably be the last of the juice)
$10.02 for Thursday. I'm up to about $54.07.
Burrito:
Leftover Mexican Casserole
Mexican Cheese: $1.50
Wheat/Flavored Tortilla Shells: $1.80
Avocado: a bag of four for $2.99
Ranch Dressing: $1.99
Coffee with Milk and Sugar
Oh, yeah, I forgot sugar: $1.99
Lunch:
The rest of the avocado/ranch dip
Tortilla chips
Campbell's Mexican Tortilla soup: $1.59
Juice
Dinner:
Chef Boyardee Pizza Kit: $2.99
(All-inclusive and I only use half of the dough - the other half can go in the fridge for lunch the next day)
Juice
So, that's $14.85. So for two days we're up to a little less than $50, but a lot of this stuff will be used over and over again for the next few days. I'll need to replace the juice, the tortilla chips, and the bread most often, most likely.
Let's go ahead and plan for Thursday:
Breakfast:
Breakfast sandwich:
Bread
Cheese
Eggs: $.84 a dozen
Ham: $3.50 a package of 9 oz.
Coffee, blah blah blah....
Lunch:
Pizza, all-inclusive from the day before
juice
Dinner:
Cous-cous: $2.39 a box
Pork Chops: $3.29 or so for a small package
Brussel Sprouts (yummy!): $1.50 for a frozen bag
juice (this will probably be the last of the juice)
$10.02 for Thursday. I'm up to about $54.07.
December 14, 2010
Lunch and Dinner
Lunch:
Campbell's Chunky New England Clam Chowder: $1.59 a can
Cranberry/Strawberry juice: $2.12 for 2 QTs
Dinner:
Hamburger Helper Mexican Casserole: $1.50
Black beans: $1.00 a can
Tortilla chips: $1.50 a bag
juice
Snack:
Tostitos Restaurant Style Salsa: 2.99 a jar
chips
juice
$11.70 for two meals but they can be leftovers. I can use the casserole in a burrito for breakfast or lunch the next day, too, and take some to work so I don't have to eat out. You know what? This is fun. Are you sick of my five thousand posts yet?
Campbell's Chunky New England Clam Chowder: $1.59 a can
Cranberry/Strawberry juice: $2.12 for 2 QTs
Dinner:
Hamburger Helper Mexican Casserole: $1.50
Black beans: $1.00 a can
Tortilla chips: $1.50 a bag
juice
Snack:
Tostitos Restaurant Style Salsa: 2.99 a jar
chips
juice
$11.70 for two meals but they can be leftovers. I can use the casserole in a burrito for breakfast or lunch the next day, too, and take some to work so I don't have to eat out. You know what? This is fun. Are you sick of my five thousand posts yet?
Student Loans
This year, I requested that my student loans be income contingent. The Direct Loan Center lowered my bills to a doable amount and I was happy. Suddenly this month, my payment quadrupled. Quadrupled.
I called to ask them why. They told me that the IRS sent them my 2009 tax information and since I made a little more money than I did the previous year, they raised my payment. I explained to them that I had already gone through this with them and was at that time told to send in a letter and a current paystub so they could see what my current pay was trending toward. I did so and that was when they lowered the bill to the good amount.
I asked them why:
a) it took so long to get my 2009 tax information
b) why I had to resubmit the paystub when I had already done so
They said that because I made $3500 extra last year (working a temporary job) they had recalculated my payment. I, again, explained that I had already been through this and that it was already on record that my income was less for 2010. They said it didn't matter and I would have to resubmit the forms and go through the whole process again.
I still don't understand, though, why the extra $3500 made them quadruple the payment.
I called to ask them why. They told me that the IRS sent them my 2009 tax information and since I made a little more money than I did the previous year, they raised my payment. I explained to them that I had already gone through this with them and was at that time told to send in a letter and a current paystub so they could see what my current pay was trending toward. I did so and that was when they lowered the bill to the good amount.
I asked them why:
a) it took so long to get my 2009 tax information
b) why I had to resubmit the paystub when I had already done so
They said that because I made $3500 extra last year (working a temporary job) they had recalculated my payment. I, again, explained that I had already been through this and that it was already on record that my income was less for 2010. They said it didn't matter and I would have to resubmit the forms and go through the whole process again.
I still don't understand, though, why the extra $3500 made them quadruple the payment.
Food Journal
I think i'll start keeping a food journal so I can see how much it would cost each week to feed myself.
My planned breakfast in the morning: a grilled-cheese sandwich and a cup of coffee.
Bread: $1.50 for one loaf.
Cheeses: 2 for $5.00 (Muenster and Swiss)
Butter: $2.00 a container
Coffee: A good kind is about $7.00
Milk: $2.00 a gallon
That's $17.50 but the bread, cheese, butter, and milk will serve other purposes, too. We'll see what lunch costs me tomorrow and try to figure out about how much money I would need each week for just little old me.
My planned breakfast in the morning: a grilled-cheese sandwich and a cup of coffee.
Bread: $1.50 for one loaf.
Cheeses: 2 for $5.00 (Muenster and Swiss)
Butter: $2.00 a container
Coffee: A good kind is about $7.00
Milk: $2.00 a gallon
That's $17.50 but the bread, cheese, butter, and milk will serve other purposes, too. We'll see what lunch costs me tomorrow and try to figure out about how much money I would need each week for just little old me.
December 13, 2010
Everytime I Think I Could Be Happy....
I went into the upstairs bathroom today to wash my face and I noticed, in the mirror, something written on the wall behind me. I recognized my own name, so I turned around to see what it said (secretly already knowing) and it said: LDJ is a slut. Except it said my real name, of course.
My nephew (obviously) carved - and I mean carved - this into the wall and then went over it with blue pen. It is not really all that small, and my seriously protective father is going to see it soon. I don't know what's going to happen when he does.
So here's a small secret that I'm ashamed of: I kinda hate this kid. I don't know what to do anymore. His mother and my mother won't do anything about him and he constantly does things like this to me. He has chosen me as the person he is allowed to harrass. Because he knows they'll protect him. He and I have had physical fights before when I can't take it anymore. There's only so many times a kid can call you a bitch, tell you he's going to kick your head in, and then talk on the phone to his girlfriend about what a stupid whore you are. There are only so many times a kid can let his nineteen-year-old girlfriend steal your underwear (you read that). There are only so many times he can go through your underwear drawers himself and steal things you had hidden in there.
I have a padlock on my bedroom door that I lock before I leave the house now. Today he was in the room next to mine when I left, and all I can think is that he got angry that he can't steal from me or violate my privacy anymore. We've barely spoken ten words to each other for the last six months, let alone had a fight, so he must have been wanting something out of my bedroom and was frustrated to see that I made sure to lock it up. The padlock has been there almost a year, though, so why the sudden outburst?
Part of me feels bad for him, because he is the product of bad parenting all around. My sister babied him when he was little and when he grew big enough to fight her she grew afraid of him. My mother is afraid of him. They let him get away with things because they think he'll have a violent outburst and hurt them. His father isn't around and when he is around it's a crapshoot whether he spends time with his son. We don't have much money, so he doesn't get a lot of the things his friends at school get, like a new phone every six months or all the latest video game consoles. I'm sure life is frustrating when you see what everyone else has and compare it to what you don't have.
But, why me? Why has he chosen me as the focus of all his rage? Because when he was little I didn't baby him and when he fought me I fought him back? Does he find me that threatening? I guess he does. I think it's also because he doesn't understand I'm not a child. That's a big problem with my whole family. Even though I put in way more money for the bills and food than my sister who lives here with her two children, she talks about how I do nothing all the time. He hears that. Then he sees that I have things. I have a computer, a netbook, the Kindle, I had a few video game consoles (which almost all of them are gone now, stolen), I have a small refrigerator. But you know what? I bought all of that after I paid the bills that needed to be paid and bought the food that needed to be bought. I bought the computer with part of one of my paychecks from my second job teaching college. My parents bought me the netbook for my thirtieth birthday, but his mother bought him a $500 IPod for his birthday this year (he threw it at her and broke her tooth). I bought the Kindle with saved money and an extra paycheck, after I paid the water bill and bought food. This is my money because I'm a grown-up with no children and a job.
When we all moved in together, I had pretty fair credit. During the first year here, there were seven people and at one point four of them didn't have jobs, including my sister. I took out FIVE credit cards to pay bills, buy food, and keep us above water. In March four of those credit cards will be paid off (I put them in consolidation, along with my Maurices card, which was my fault). I have repaid all of those credit cards while still paying for part of the bills and food. I don't buy much and if I have a vice, like they have cigarettes, my vice is books.
Oooohhh, my mother is looking at the wall right now. I wonder what's going to happen. I can hear her trying to rub it off. Of course she's just going to hide it and pretend like it didn't happen.
My nephew (obviously) carved - and I mean carved - this into the wall and then went over it with blue pen. It is not really all that small, and my seriously protective father is going to see it soon. I don't know what's going to happen when he does.
So here's a small secret that I'm ashamed of: I kinda hate this kid. I don't know what to do anymore. His mother and my mother won't do anything about him and he constantly does things like this to me. He has chosen me as the person he is allowed to harrass. Because he knows they'll protect him. He and I have had physical fights before when I can't take it anymore. There's only so many times a kid can call you a bitch, tell you he's going to kick your head in, and then talk on the phone to his girlfriend about what a stupid whore you are. There are only so many times a kid can let his nineteen-year-old girlfriend steal your underwear (you read that). There are only so many times he can go through your underwear drawers himself and steal things you had hidden in there.
I have a padlock on my bedroom door that I lock before I leave the house now. Today he was in the room next to mine when I left, and all I can think is that he got angry that he can't steal from me or violate my privacy anymore. We've barely spoken ten words to each other for the last six months, let alone had a fight, so he must have been wanting something out of my bedroom and was frustrated to see that I made sure to lock it up. The padlock has been there almost a year, though, so why the sudden outburst?
Part of me feels bad for him, because he is the product of bad parenting all around. My sister babied him when he was little and when he grew big enough to fight her she grew afraid of him. My mother is afraid of him. They let him get away with things because they think he'll have a violent outburst and hurt them. His father isn't around and when he is around it's a crapshoot whether he spends time with his son. We don't have much money, so he doesn't get a lot of the things his friends at school get, like a new phone every six months or all the latest video game consoles. I'm sure life is frustrating when you see what everyone else has and compare it to what you don't have.
But, why me? Why has he chosen me as the focus of all his rage? Because when he was little I didn't baby him and when he fought me I fought him back? Does he find me that threatening? I guess he does. I think it's also because he doesn't understand I'm not a child. That's a big problem with my whole family. Even though I put in way more money for the bills and food than my sister who lives here with her two children, she talks about how I do nothing all the time. He hears that. Then he sees that I have things. I have a computer, a netbook, the Kindle, I had a few video game consoles (which almost all of them are gone now, stolen), I have a small refrigerator. But you know what? I bought all of that after I paid the bills that needed to be paid and bought the food that needed to be bought. I bought the computer with part of one of my paychecks from my second job teaching college. My parents bought me the netbook for my thirtieth birthday, but his mother bought him a $500 IPod for his birthday this year (he threw it at her and broke her tooth). I bought the Kindle with saved money and an extra paycheck, after I paid the water bill and bought food. This is my money because I'm a grown-up with no children and a job.
When we all moved in together, I had pretty fair credit. During the first year here, there were seven people and at one point four of them didn't have jobs, including my sister. I took out FIVE credit cards to pay bills, buy food, and keep us above water. In March four of those credit cards will be paid off (I put them in consolidation, along with my Maurices card, which was my fault). I have repaid all of those credit cards while still paying for part of the bills and food. I don't buy much and if I have a vice, like they have cigarettes, my vice is books.
Oooohhh, my mother is looking at the wall right now. I wonder what's going to happen. I can hear her trying to rub it off. Of course she's just going to hide it and pretend like it didn't happen.
December 7, 2010
The Scene with the Lisps
During the choosing of the 104 books, I chose God Knows by Joseph Heller just based on this clip from a customer review at Amazon:
"There are many novels out there that make me smile and/or chuckle, but God Knows is one of the few that made me laugh out loud in several places. Read it if only for the passage with the lisps. You'll know what I mean when you get there."
How can I not want to read the scene with the lisps, no matter what it may be?
"There are many novels out there that make me smile and/or chuckle, but God Knows is one of the few that made me laugh out loud in several places. Read it if only for the passage with the lisps. You'll know what I mean when you get there."
How can I not want to read the scene with the lisps, no matter what it may be?
December 6, 2010
The Great Time-Waster
Today I tried to decide what book to read next and I literally almost had a nervous breakdown. It went something...like this....
Should I buy an expensive book for the Kindle? It isn't getting much love. What if I don't like the book I buy? There are many free books. But I haven't enjoyed a free book yet. Will that be a waste of time? I don't want to go to the library. There's never any parking. I could order another book. I could just read The Magic Mountain for the next twelve hours and feel as though I got nowhere with it...again. I could read more of the Joyce Collection or the P.G. Wodehouse collection. There, I read a chapter each. I feel like I accomplished...nothing. I want to read non-fiction. Do I want to read non-fiction? All the non-fiction for less than a dollar on the Kindle is from, like, 1908. I could break down and buy one of those expensive linguistics books I've been eyeing. Or I could just break down.
Hours, people. So what I'm doing now is compiling a list of the 104 books I'll read in 2011 (two books each week). I have all of these various lists I typed up long ago, including a list of all the movies made from books (about sixty pages); a list of books by female authors I photocopied from a book at a school I worked for; two separate lists of canon classics; lists of previous award-winners; a list from a literary book that listed (ding!) hundreds of literary genres and books that / authors who represent those genres; the one hundred must-read books of 2010 according to The New York Times, of which I chose eight (including one by Tony Doerr!); slots for random novels, including the one NGS told me she wanted me to read; and The Dictionary of Imaginary Places. Plus other sources.
I have 27 books so far, and I will have a complete list by the end of the night. I'm leaving thirteen slots for random books (including NGS's book). This partially worked for me when I had a goal of reading 100 pages a day, the difference being that I just chose random books from those lists. This time, I'm researching them and only choosing books I think I'll enjoy.
You know I struggle with the idea that I'll never know whether I'll enjoy a book until I read it, so part of me bucks this idea. But, I'm also forcing myself to understand no one can read every book every other person has read, or every book someone considers a classic. Each of the books I'm choosing sounds like a story, character, or idea I can get behind. I'm very excited.
Should I buy an expensive book for the Kindle? It isn't getting much love. What if I don't like the book I buy? There are many free books. But I haven't enjoyed a free book yet. Will that be a waste of time? I don't want to go to the library. There's never any parking. I could order another book. I could just read The Magic Mountain for the next twelve hours and feel as though I got nowhere with it...again. I could read more of the Joyce Collection or the P.G. Wodehouse collection. There, I read a chapter each. I feel like I accomplished...nothing. I want to read non-fiction. Do I want to read non-fiction? All the non-fiction for less than a dollar on the Kindle is from, like, 1908. I could break down and buy one of those expensive linguistics books I've been eyeing. Or I could just break down.
Hours, people. So what I'm doing now is compiling a list of the 104 books I'll read in 2011 (two books each week). I have all of these various lists I typed up long ago, including a list of all the movies made from books (about sixty pages); a list of books by female authors I photocopied from a book at a school I worked for; two separate lists of canon classics; lists of previous award-winners; a list from a literary book that listed (ding!) hundreds of literary genres and books that / authors who represent those genres; the one hundred must-read books of 2010 according to The New York Times, of which I chose eight (including one by Tony Doerr!); slots for random novels, including the one NGS told me she wanted me to read; and The Dictionary of Imaginary Places. Plus other sources.
I have 27 books so far, and I will have a complete list by the end of the night. I'm leaving thirteen slots for random books (including NGS's book). This partially worked for me when I had a goal of reading 100 pages a day, the difference being that I just chose random books from those lists. This time, I'm researching them and only choosing books I think I'll enjoy.
You know I struggle with the idea that I'll never know whether I'll enjoy a book until I read it, so part of me bucks this idea. But, I'm also forcing myself to understand no one can read every book every other person has read, or every book someone considers a classic. Each of the books I'm choosing sounds like a story, character, or idea I can get behind. I'm very excited.
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