Saturday, January 23, 2010
Co-titled: "THINGS THAT ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES"
Imagine that, ME having a strong opinion. Whoda thunk it?
I went to bed agitated and woke up the same. Okay, so I'm an ugly drunk. Sue me.
Perhaps 'drunk' is too strong of a word. Um, let's see....tipsy? Buzzed? Ever so slightly inebriated?
In my opinion, nothing says classy like a box of wine.
That's right, I said it....box.
And for about $8.00 or $9.00, you too can be tipsy, buzzed, ever so slightly inebriated and opinionated via a never ending box of blush wine that's been in your fridge for weeks untouched.
Hey, it needs to feel special, too, with all those fancy, shmancy bottled wines sitting on the store shelves next to it screaming pretension.
It was Friday night and, so, I partook. Partaked?
Abused the living shit out of it.
If ones definition of three glasses can be considered 'abusing', that is. Yeah, so, I'm a lightweight.
I find that after said glasses, all kinds of opinions come flying out of my mouth.
I likely offended but, oh, well.
My house, my wine.
I'm starting to lose control of my existence again and I'm not digging it, Mostly, I don't know how to get it back without hurting peoples feelings -- people whom I love madly and without whom my life would not be complete.
Still, I need balance. My life is all about balance.
Back when Ed got very sick from the 'Swine Flu' I set some ground rules about when people can come over.
Ed needed rest and recovery -- and, I admit, I needed a little more time to myself.
I don't mind people being here after dinner in the evening, but am finding more and more that I'm having to feed extra people typically Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
The other night we picked up $5.00 pizzas -- that was at my invitation.
Sunday mornings I typically make breakfast for everyone, that, too is at my invitation.
But after football is over and the games have been played with Ed and the boys either celebrating or lamenting the end result, I need time with just Ed and B.
I don't know what it is about Sunday dinners but it's sacred. It may not be fancy; I rarely roast anything, but it's still my time with Ed and B to watch 'Big Love' and to eat dinner with just us.
Then there are the daily visits. EVERY DAY typically starting before 9:00 a.m.
Sometimes I want to watch a movie that I know no one with testosterone would enjoy. Some times I need to play 'Jewel Quest' or 'Bejeweled' with the sound turned high. Sometimes I need to read Jane Austen in deathly silence.
Sometimes I just need to be.
And then I hear that certain people are still snooping around my blog and then have the audacity to be incensed. Um, well, here's a notion -- stop reading it. Problem solved and a happy ending for us both.
I'm also monumentally tired of peoples sense of entitlement acting on what they think they do and do not deserve.
So, last night after consumption of previously mentioned wine, I said everything except what I really needed to.
Then to top it off, at about 11:00, I wanted to unwind and sit in front of the T.V. (Ed went to bed early since he's now working Saturdays) to veg out. I wanted to watch 'Sense and Sensibility' or 'Sex And The City'.
But B's friend, who stayed over (and again, whom I LOVE and ADORE), was snuggled up on my sofa with a blanket ready to go to sleep in my living room which holds the ONLY T.V. in the house.
Yes, we're freaks of nature. We have NEVER had more than one T.V.
I come out from the garage and into the living room where B announces everyone is going to bed.
B: "Well 'so and so' is ready to go to sleep."
Me: "And that's my problem how???"
It's 11:00 on a Friday night, I was just ready to chill and fall asleep in front of the T.V. like I always do.
In the words of Bobby Brown: "That's my prerogative!"
But with the lights already being turned out against my wishes, it was off to bed I went.
I don't know where or how I lost control again, but I need to get it back.
B's intentions were good towards his friend, but inconsiderate towards me.
Perhaps he felt since I was a little tipsy that I could use some cues and directives.
Well, I don't need directives at the age of nearly 44, thank you. It's not like I was falling down and unable to keep a thought and express it, so, if I want to drink a few glasses of wine on a Friday night (which I rarely do), stay up in my living room, pick my nose and scratch my ass in front of the T.V. watching a movie I've seen 100 times only to fall asleep 20 minutes into it, I'll do it.
But I didn't say that.
I know B is with good intentions, but sheesh.
I wasn't so inebriated that I don't remember what I did say instead which was something along the lines of: "Oh, 'so and so' wants to go to sleep, eh? Well, I'm so sorry I didn't realize that my whole night is to be dictated because so and so needs sleep. My mistake. Let me just trot off to bed then like a good girl."
So, I don't know how this will be addressed or when but it WILL be addressed. I don't need people here 24/7.
I need them here -- but not all the time.
Again, and just to reiterate for the people in the back, sometimes I just need to be.
I enjoy our life and the camaraderie. These young adults have been part of mine, Ed's and B's lives for a long time and I couldn't imagine my life without them. With that said, I still need boundaries.
Boundaries that include wine when I feel like drinking it, a T.V. when I feel like watching it and a bed when I feel like sleeping in it.
And time when I want it all to myself or with Ed and B.
So, today I am cranky and perplexed as to how to go about this. And damn it all to hell if Ed isn't at work.
Speaking of cranky -- and wildly switching gears here -- what is up with Rachael Ray's '30 Minute Meals' lately?
Ed and I fell in love with this manic wonder of a cook years ago who's overwhelming projects (several T.V. shows, books, magazines) are now taking it's obvious toll. I used to feel good when watching her -- now she's like the anecdote for joy.
Now, I love me some Rachael Ray -- I'll still take her any day over the pretensions of Giada De Laurentiis and Ina Garten -- but she is no longer perky, seems run down, tired and no longer happy to be doing what she's doing.
I'd say unless we get the old Rachael back, that perhaps it's time to put away her vocabulary of 'Yummo-s' and 'Sammies', hang up her 'mopine's', store away her 'EVOO', have a glass of boxed wine and regain control of her life and re-evaluate what will make her happy.
While I'm at it, I may do the same thing.