Super Evil Bitch Lady May 29, 2008

I work as the billing person for a local chiropractor (the BEST CHIROPRACTOR EVER!). In addition to submitting insurance claims and billing people for their visits to the office, I also greet people as they enter the building.

Now, overall, I’m a nice person. That’s not to say that I don’t have a bit of snark running through my veins. I make crude jokes when amongst friends and sometimes, after a long day (or a day without chocolate), I can be a bit bitchy. But again, overall, I’m nice. And honestly, when I’m at work, I’m super fucking nice to all of the patients the good doctor adjusts.

Yesterday my coworker informed me that Super Evil Bitch Lady had scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. This woman is just vile. Wait. I should qualify that statement. Super Evil Bitch Lady is vile to people working the front desk of the office I work in. My friend and I are treated with the utmost content when this woman graces us with her presence. “Hi! Good afternoon” is greeted with a scowl and a snotty comment about the afternoon not being nice at all. A detailed answer to a question she asks is met with, “I didn’t ask for your life story, a yes or no will do.” When I tell her how much her office visit costs (which I do for every. other. patient. each time they come in), I get a disdainful, “Yes. I know, ” and an eyeroll to boot. She. Is. A. Bitch.

… that is, of course, until she gets on the adjusting table. She’s sweet as sugar to the good doc. She smiles and laughs and engages in pleasant conversation. For my coworker and myself, she won’t utter a civil “hello,” but to the doctor, well, lets just say I don’t think Super Evil Bitch Lady would have a problem with listening to her life story.

So really, what is it? Is it because I hold a lowly secretary-type position in the office? Is she bitter because I’m young and happy with life? Is she just a nasty, vile, Super Evil Bitch Lady? Yeah… I think the last one about sums it up.

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Twelve-Month Letter May 22, 2008

Dear Baboo,

Today you turned one year old. I can’t believe how fast the past twelve months have flown by. I could swear that just yesterday I was able to hold you in one arm; that it was only last week when you learned to roll over, sit up, and stand. Was it really much longer than a month ago that you started crawling? Where did all the time go? How did your growing up sneak up on me?

This past month has been a joyful month for you, Papa, and me. You’ve become so very vocal. You talk and sing to us nearly non-stop during the day. Just in the last three days or so Papa and I have started signing to you, and you’ve already gotten the hang of signing “milk” back to us. Tonight I witnessed you take about eight steps on your own.  I don’t think it will be long until you’re full-on walking.

A couple of weekends ago we went to Philly to see you Aunt Lauren, who was visiting from Maine. It was the first time she got to see you since you were born, and she was so excited to spend some time with you. Aunt Lauren gifted you a fantastic zippy that says “Maine” on it. It fits you great, and I’m sure you’re going to spend the vast majority of next fall and winter in it. During our visit with Aunt Lauren, we all went to the Adventure Aquarium in New Jersey. We saw tons of fish, penguins, seals, and turtles. (And tons of other animals… too many to name!) You really seemed to enjoy watching the fish swim all around. More than once you put your hands out to the glass tanks and tired to touch the fish! I’m sorry you couldn’t get to them, but it was sweet watching you try.

For your birthday, we celebrated with friends and family at South Ab’s park. Papa went to the park early to stake our claim on the picnic benches under the pavilion. Papa (with some help from Aunt Michelle and DJ) decorated the tables and pavilion with streamers and balloons… it looked really beautiful. I baked you a banana cake because you love, love, love bananas! You spent the afternoon playing on the grass and being adorable. Everyone was excited to celebrate with you.

Early this morning, Papa and I took you to Pop Pop’s Workshop to pick out your birthday present. You came home with a little wooden car and a little wooden truck. Papa and I had been looking forward to taking you there for some time. I hope those little wooden vehicles will entertain you for many hours to come!

You had a fever a few days ago, but Papa and i attributed it to teething. Dr. Jennifer checked your ears, and they were all clear, and you didn’t seem sick otherwise, so neither Papa nor I worried too much about it. Today you have a bit of a rash, and that has me a little worried since we haven’t changed our laundry detergent or anything of that sort. I’m hoping to get a better look at it tomorrow, and hoping even more that it will be gone away by the time I go to check it out. On the upside, you don’t seem bothered by it, so I guess I’m probably worried over nothing.

I know I’ve said it before, but you bring your Papa and I such joy. I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m so grateful for this past year, and I’m excited about the years to come.

Happy Birthday, sweet one.

Love,
mama *=

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May 13, 2008

Here’s the email I sent to my good friend, thenakedredhead.

Red,
I miss our long email conversations. I think I’ve said that before.

Just because I know you’ll understand and empathize a bit, I really need to bitch about my family.

I just hate the lot of them (minus my grandpa… he’s wonderful).

My mother still makes passive aggressive comments about how I won’t come to her house. Listen lady, you smoke; your husband smokes; your house reeks of smoke. I am not brining my baby into that. Am. Not. I think it’s sad that she’s more concerned with us not being there for “special” dinners than she is about her grandson’s health. There’s a major disconnect. Smoking and second-hand smoke cause cancer, increase the risk of SIDS in children, can bring on a host of breathing problems… for other people, that is. For her, none of that is true. I’m just a stuck up bitch who doesn’t want to expose her child to GERMS. Germs! She actually thinks that I’m not bringing the baby there b/c there are germs in her house.

My father is still dating the 24-year-old whore of the valley. I’m waiting to see if he asks (read: tells me) he’s brining her to the baby’s birthday party on Saturday. She is not welcome. He’s not going to be happy. But anyway… how freaking dysfunctional is that? He is nearly 50 years old. He’s dating this broken girl and playing daddy to her. And somehow, no one sees this as being unhealthy and inappropriate. My sister thinks it’s “crummy” that I don’t want her at Baboo’s party. Speaking of..

I still just hate my sister. Even after trying to work things out with her, she is still the same. Nothing is her fault… what she says is best… I’m still a fuck-up for raising my son as I see fit. Breastfeeding is gross, foreskins are gross, only dumb people don’t vaccinate their children, blah, blah, blah. I can’t stand her. I get no joy out of her being in my life. I don’t think Baboo gains anything much either. Why do I even try?

My cousin and her family (husband and two little girls) aren’t coming to Baboo’s birthday party b/c her husband’s brother is in from Texas and his mother is having a birthday party for him. This guy has to be in his 40s at least, and I know he’s coming in from out of town, but my son’s party is from 1-3 in the afternoon. She can’t spare an hour for the kid’s first birthday? My aunt (my dad’s sister) also isn’t coming b/c “she has people coming in that day and doesn’t know what time they’re leaving. Plus, to commit to something that might not even happen wouldn’t be fair to anyone.” Huh? Yeah… apparently because the party is at a park and I said that if there are torrential downpours I would cancel or move the party to my house it means that it “might not even happen.” The truth is, I’ll be happier that the lot of them aren’t there, but I think the excuses are lame. L.A.M.E. This is the same group of people who bitch because I didn’t spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them. Christ… they wonder why? Why in the world would I want to spend time with people who don’t act like my family rates at all?

And Red, I know you’re disgruntled with the modern-day church, but I have to say… I love my church community. I mean, yeah, there’s some dysfunction, but the majority of it is, “Oh, so-and-so brought white wine… I really wanted red wine with dinner.” I can deal with having the wrong color wine at dinner. The family stuff makes me want to move far, far away.

On that note… have I mentioned that the husband applied for a job in San Diego? He has a phone interview on the 25th (though he’s considering flying out there… he wants it that badly). There’s a good chance we’ll be moving. If that happens, I’ll get to leave all this family shit behind. Woo hoo for that.

Hope your day is going better than mine.

Love,
me

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