Mother Katherine provided me with probably one of the most useful of tools yesterday in our Tuesday @ 10:00 a.m. utterances.
I had lost this feller so long ago, not knowing which way was north, nor which was south. More familiar with the neutralities of easts and wests, I struggled with what went where.
It was lost in a lonely living room, this moral compass o' mine, behind open doors that should have been closed, with my hands metaphorically tied behind my back and my eyes made to be wide shut. "Star 80" comes to mind, sweaty bodies fucking, willing oiled flesh against the flesh of the martryed, angry dark mustaches mingled with blonde innocence & ignorance being bliss as all get out. PTSD comes in the form of disgruntled 30 something males who have a willingness to please but are even more cunning in their acts of deception. & shotguns.
My moral compass was given back to me yesterday. I've forgotten how to use it, how to read it. There are many times I want to put it away & pretend I never happened upon it, even since yesterday afternoon.
I have to wonder at what God has given me....I mean, why was it ever taken away in the first place? Why was I allowed to lose such an important relic if it was only going to be returned to me at a point in my life when I thought I could get along just fine without one?
I was fine with seeing north for it's south-like tendencies, & okay with seeing a little north down in the delta too. My true north lay in the enigmatic comforts of the horizons of east and west.
Was I given this to be told I am wrong in my thinking, in my conclusive efforts to relate with this world? Or was it a reward for coming to a stance of neutrality in a universe that demands such a forced dichotomy of black & white? I may never fully come to understand this. I hope to, but if I don't, there is a belief deep down inside me that even if I don't, everything will still be okay.
Not everyone has that though. That ability to stand on a middle grounds, & still be even a shred of who you think you might be in this realm.
My oldest son and I were working on some math problems last night. Math is a sore subject for my son, particularly arithmetic that involves multiple steps & processes. His world has to be broken down into smaller parts, showing connection step by step to what the bigger picture is.
My world has to be presented to me in a very similar way in order to get a grasp.
I sensed his anxiety level, his stress factor soaring higher & higher with each problem we approached in his math book.
By problem #11 he was in tears.
My son is not a crier.
I was heartbroken to see so much pent up angst pour out over in waves of tears and sobs I haven't heard from him since he was 6.
It's his second week of being in Jr. High. He has shown no sign of feeling inadequate when compared to his other peers until now. This moment.
He tells me he needs to stay on track. He tells me he needs to try harder. He tells me he used to know his multiplication facts but now he can't remember any of them. He tells me he studies so so hard (his exact words) but no matter what he still gets only 50% on his tests, adding that 50% means an 'F'.
In his own 13 year old way, he was telling me he felt like a failure.
Someone who, no matter how tired he is, will strive to get his homework done, even if it means staying up until 11 o'clock at night (which I refuse to let him do anymore) to complete it so that he can say he did it.
Someone who, secretly pinches the insides of his palms to make sure he is staying focused enough to understand the many rules and regulations of this new and foreign land that is Jr. High.
Someone who later comes crying to those who care to listen, because it hurts so bad that he fails to measure up to what other's standards are of success.
My moral compass is spinning out of fucking control here, and all I want to do is cry right alongside Jr.
But I gotta be brave for my boy. I've gotta be strong so that he can sometimes feel safe about being weak in a world where weakness is deemed unacceptable.
I let him cry. I let him speak. I don't try to console him or tell him to dry his eyes. This is 13 years of insecurity spilling out over my 33 year old lap.
When he was done, I looked him in those beautiful chocolate brown eyes that resemble his father's in every way, shape and form, and tell him.
I tell him that because of his Autism that there will be things he is going to struggle with. Math is one of them. Not everyone with Autism will struggle with math, but for whatever reason, he does. I tell him that because of Autism, there will be so many other things he will continue to struggle with, even til the day he dies, because that is just how life is.
I also tell him that because of his Autism, he will never have to struggle to beat the pants off of his opponents in chess. And that because of his Autism he will own eternally on playing video games that most people only dream of owning on. And that because of his Autism he is by far possibly the cleanest teenager in all of the Indianapolis area.
& that because of his Autism, he has shown me one of the most beautiful facets of life that I would've never had the chance to embrace if he never had it.
He got me through this world without a moral compass.
Fuck this world & it's standards & measures for success.
I've got that song stuck in my head! The season calls for it though.
Oh boy oh boy. Was s'posed to help out at the Scholastic Book Fair today but second oldest spawn is home sick today with a cold. I was kinda lookin forward to going to the book fair too. The sexy librarian always hooks me up with a free book, even though I owe her from last year.
Well the weekend was spent well, on Friday Snookms, spawn & I ventured out to the Dennys by the airport for dinner. It's usually a darling of a place to go, but that night felt like a fail. There was a grumpy assed old couple we were seated next to which made us more self conciously aware of how noisy our spawn can get, so we weren't half as silly as we usually like to be in public places. I felt bad for our waitress because she was asked by the mean old lady if they had run out of coffee in the most rudest of manners. I could see the offense taken in the waitress' eyes so I kept baby-ing her all night long with 'pleases' n 'thank yous'. Plus the chicken fried steak n mashed potatoes I ordered was just way too much food for me! But the nacho appetizers were pretty grand.
Saturday I woke up & realized we needed milk & cereal so I headed up to SuperTarget & went ahead & got groceries for the week. Spent some time in the college/dorm supply-like area & fell in love with some posters. They had long rectangular strips of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon posters for cheap so I bought that & some romantical hogwash with a sexy couple posing in front of sexy places with the William Shakespeare quotation, "Journeys end in lovers meeting". Snookms wasn't crazy about it, but I mostly like it for the black & white scheme of things. Plus the quote! Also talked myself into purchasing a Jimi Hendrix regular-large poster. It's pretty! It's purple! It says 'craziness is like heaven', because, y'know, it IS?!?!
When I got home Snookms was ready to pay a visit to his mum out in the northo-nether region, but I was kinda tuckered out, so youngest she-spawn & I elected to stay home. But not really! Wound up over at the Renegade Wizard's pad. My mom has been sick, so we wanted to check up on her & make sure she wasn't on her death bed. & she wasn't! Spent a good 3 hours upstairs in her room laying in bed with her *yes! I still do that! Shamelessly mind you!* & smelling her lovely mother flesh. I'm so glad she's feeling better. We had fun talking about the potential for telekinesis, what Hitler's henchman could have possibly discovered (or tried to discover!) in their horrible experiments on humanity & the different classifications of psychic abilities. Renegade Wizard & she-spawn were chopping it up downstairs listening to Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here' & making pot roast, which was a hit and a half, by the by! & then we sat around the 52 inch & halfheartedly elected to watch Slumdog Millionaire. By the end of the movie we were silent and teary eyed and mad at ourselves for not seeing it sooner. I now know why that movie took home the cake. Excellent film. By the time it was all over it was Powerball time & the only one that came out a winner was the fucking 9 (soon to be ten!) year old she-spawn. She guessed 3 of the 6 numbers right out of the 5 of us *I called Snookms & he gave me fucking prime numbers; for a LOTTERY!* plus had the multiplier of 5, so she won 35 dollars. Strange how such events lead to such things. & such!
Didn't get home til close to 1 in the am, Snookms was passed out on the couch & the spawn were already at their vices. Tha Jr. was enveloped in Windwaker, as usual, & David (Fezziwig) was very very close to defeating Majora on Majora's mask, had 19 of the 20 masks you have to trade to get to where you need to go. I have to say that I love this game. It is pretty much the most amazing of the Zelda series. The sidequests & lore are a must, you HAVE to get all the masks if you want to beat the game and even though the masks are a bitch to obtain in most cases, they are well worth the amusement. I spent/wasted 3 months of my petty life defeating the first 2 temples on that game, but when the game froze up & erased all my shit from the girly pirate fortress AFTER I had obtained all those fucking eggs....I just, well, I just LOST it. I went numb & frigid for at least a week & vowed I would never play that game again. When the spawn picked it back over the summer, they used my prior knowledge & experience from the game & now they are far more 'experted' than I in the way of this game. But seriously. This game is beautiful & needs to be made more beautiful with better graphics. Like maybe cell-shade animation, perhaps Windwaker style? Keep everything else though Dear God! The music, the lovely evil moon descending upon you, the many forms you become, all the quirky lovely people you have to talk to. You get a Giant's Mask for Christ's sake, & you can only use it to defeat a boss, where you really become a giant! The final reward for all your efforts? The Fierce Deity Mask, which makes you ascend to Godhood, Link style. Pretty amazing if you ask me.
Sunday was a lazy day for me. Woke up feeling PMS to the max, so I just pattered around & enjoyed the Fall-like Foreshadowings. You know there's lovely orange-leafed trouble right around the corner whenever Mysty starts busting out THIS pretty kitty:
I was in the mood for hunting for new graphic novels, but sick of old B&N so I slipped away for a few & went to Half Price. Saw an old pal & her kiddo & whaddoya know? Her feller is working there too! Ha! I did find 2 jewels I am now coveting hardcore in the graphic novel section, for Lucifer the Morning Star has his own fucking series out that I did not know of. I pine for this; even in my sleep. How I fell in deep love with him in the Sandman Series. But alas, the two series that were available were more dollars than I had planned to spend, so I poo-pooed all over the place and pouted like a little brat in the Dragonlance section. I decided to comfort myself by going to the Dollar Tree & was consoled by Bjork cds for a dollar & the book ' The Kings of New York ' (for a fucking dollar, if you can believe it!). I was so happy for my findings that I celebrated by buying Tha Jr. a new sword, shield, & axe to add to his collection of cosplay like treasures.
After that, I paid a visit to Michaels, where I could live if you let me. I had my heart set on buying another tree pendant, (this one is silver with greenish-blue jewels encrusted into the branches, vs. my gold one with red jewels) & this lovely key pendant too, but they were far more expensive than I had anticipated so I just stuck with the owl pendant. He's purdy too. Large silver body, luminious black eyes.
I look forward to sporting that baby. & my new Heavy Boots. I wore them once when I met up with Mysty last week, but haven't sported them since, cause while they are awesome boots, they are painful boots too. But I luff them!
Well, Fall is nearly upon us, and I look forward to it's coming. I need to start really contemplating what pumpkins I am going to carve for Mysty's weddding reception. I really love the white ones, but they are so hard on my carpel tunnel infected hands & wrists. But the outcome is so much more defined & beautiful.
The other downside to these kinds of pumpkins is that the rind is so thick, they don't illuminate very well when a candle is placed inside them. & the rinds start to really stink after a while!
But then, here is another I did on a regular ol' orange feller, 2 or so years ago, & the outcome was so flimsy!
(I totally cut myself on that bastard too!)
So yeah. I'm gonna be busy. Meg-busy! But FUN-busy too.
Oh man. Man oh man! I haven't written here for a long time.
Things have been pretty busy here ever since the kids started school back up. You'd think I'd have more time to do shit like this, but really...The first week of school for the kids was anarchy man, plain and simple. I was so nervous for Tha Jr. starting up Jr. High. Lockers! Many different teachers! Many different classrooms! It was making me crave muscle relaxers, the anxiety level was so high.
The anarchy week transitioned into this week of complete calm and silence, but it's taking my body a long time to adjust to the newness of it all. Every year I have a breakdown after the kids go back to school and it takes me about a week to recover. It feels something like 'empty nest syndrome'. Or at least what I imagine it to be. I usually cry for the first few days because I miss the kids so much. It'll be over something simple, like seeing the motor scooter charging in our dining room, unoccupied by sweaty smelly spawn. Or hearing The Weather Channel on every t.v. in the house, with no Mike Jr. there to recite what the weather is going to be in 42 different counties. He watches that shit the way I used to watch He-Man back in the day. It's beautiful how different minds enjoy different things, y'know? But yes, all these little things and more make me cry. I just let myself these days, instead of bottling it up. It feels so much better that way. The silence of their bedroom, versus the usual Ocarina of Time & Majora's Mask theme music blaring from their televisions is a lonesome feeling too. But it's all for the good. Their in school, learning how to insult their classmates and pass notes behind the teacher's back, just like every other student in this universe.
Yesterday was pretty exciting for Tha Jr. & I cause it was his first day of Chess Club. It was last minute as fuck, didn't even realize there was going to be a chess meet until I was already driving far, far away from the school, but we turned around, found the room it was being held in, introduced ourselves & my reasoning for feeling the need to be the only parent in the building to escort their child to chess club *autism sometimes = nervousness which sometimes = lack of ability to communicate optimally which sometimes = child/mother meltdown combo.*
The teacher in charge of the chess club was really cool & he kept staring at my City of Saints & Madmen book that I brought along to read while the Jr. played chess like he knew it of olde or some shit. I wonder if he does? These are the narratives that keep me up at night. But yes, every Tuesday, after school there is a chess meeting in which Tha Jr. has the opportunity to forge his blade in the fire that is checkmate. It was REALLY quite lovely, because one of Mike's classmates that new him from his previous school said very loudly, "Mike was the best chess player in all of 6th grade!" & this boy, he surprised me, cause he's not the type to brag about others' winnings & such. He's the type that gets in trouble for insulting others in school & has to have his parents come pick him up on a regular basis. So for me, it was beam-like amazing to hear someone say that about my spawn.
Another funny I should share is that everyone at Tha Jr.'s school keeps thinking I'm a student there. Twice I was stopped and questioned of my intentionable whereabouts. I said, "Home?" & then they said, "HomeROOM?" & then I said "Huh?" and was like "Oh! I'm a parent." The second time it happened there was another teacher, and she laughed all the way down the hall at me and said, "You look like an 8th grader!" So now everytime I pass them in the hall after walking the Jr. halfway (not all the way, cause, y'know, don't wanna cramp his style) to his class she yells out and laughs & says, "It's our 8th grade mom!" It's funny and makes my day until I realize how I must look to everybody when walking around Metropolis holding Snookms 32 year old hand. Even one of the students mistook me for a fellow classmate in chess club. I heard him telling the girl he was getting ready to engage in a game of chess in, "Well, why don't we play this girl over here first. She doesn't look like she's had a chance to do a match with anybody yet". When I said, "Oh, it's okay, I'm just a parent" the kid said, "Oh my gosh! I thought you were an 8th grader. You LOOK like one!" I giggled & then went back to my reading of Dradin shanking Dvorak's punk ass. Is it wrong that I've fallen in love with Dradin's character so fast? He's naked! & in love with a mannequinns' head! I can't tell you how many times I wish someone would've sympathized with that plight when it was mine own!
I'm kinda bummed cause Snookms deleted his myspace account. And I don't know why I'm really all that bummed cause he doesn't ever utilize it anyway. I just like seeing his purdy profile picture that I hand made on my own profile & then clicking it to see that I could say, "Yep. That's MY bitch right thar." I know. I'm just ONE OF THOSE kinds of pathetic myspacers. I stalk! I steele! & then I wish you back from whence you came! But Snookms HAD to delete it if he's going to become a police officer. I'm s'very excited to see this happen for him. My Snookms just MIGHT be a po-po!!!! I wonder if he'll hafta bust any caps in any asses. I hope not.
Got a new B.C. Rich Warlock Guitar Hero controller for the ps2. David bought it with the remainder of his birthday money from Disc Replay, which I guess that technically means it is not 'new'. But you know what I mean right? The Warlock is very hard to use though. The buttons are closer together than what we're used to, the neck is fatter, and we STILL haven't got the whole calibration lag thingy in control on our new HD. It pisses me off royally too, cause I can no longer beat The Wind Cries Mary on Expert anymore. I know it has at least 1/8 of a fraction to do with me being rusty as a tentspike too though. FAIL!
It's my brother's old best friend from when we lived in South San Francisco.
He was one of those artists that you coveted and planned their murder cause they won their place in school popularity for their drawing skills alone, & whether they had the social skills of a leper was an aside?
(Some of his work)
So yeah. I'm pretty fucking excited.
I guess he's been trying to find our whole family (the Bedfords, which of course I was formerly one of) on the net for quite some time now (he even made this page! I just GIGGLE at the part where he says, "I have lots of HP. Jen is the weak one that you have to protect, but has lots of MP".) & just recently found me on myspace in hopes of getting in touch with my brother. In the process we have been exchanging emails back & forth playing 'catch up' & I put my balls on for a day and asked him if he was interested in doing the art for my projects. He's really excited about it & so am I & even if it IS not going to be done til the year 2060. Our first collaberation is going to be him doing a black & white inked (his artistic spiel splattered all over it of course) version of this:
So like. Needless to say, I'm totally jazzed about it!
He (my awesome artist) is about to be deployed, he's a jet fighter avionics specialist. I'm am meg-tarded in awe of that position. I've always had a thing for jet fighters & the ways of such things. Ever since like, D.A.R.Y.L..... Anyone ever love that boy/movie/boy as much as I did? My boy Tha Jr. really reminds me of him in the way of looks. I wonder what Barret Oliver looks like now. I had it BAD for him. And all because of that damn fighter pilot helm.
Well now, time has flown by me once again and I must go. Don't know when I'll be back, but I hope it's sooner than later. I miss everybody. Like, the whole 2 people that ever comment here. If you love 'em like I do, it's more than you'll ever need.