Thursday, December 09, 2010

Bad, bad, bad Blogget

Go ahead. Flog me. I'm a bad, bad, bad Blogget....

But don't think I haven't thought about you in my absence! I often have and wondered what you all would have to say about what's going on in my life. And I need to get back to reading about yours, too.

I had a few things I was going to blog about in detail, but it became too exhausting. Suffice it to say, I'm tired.

My sister and her kids moved to California. I couldn't be happier. I miss my nephew, mostly, but at the moment, I have no desire to spend any time or energy on my sister. What she did to my life and my relationship with my mother while she was here was nothing short of selfish and mean. My heart still hurts for what I've lost.

Son graduated from high school just fine. I asked him to pick a place he'd like to visit as a graduation gift, so off we went to Vegas. Did he want to see the lights? The casinos? The girls? No. He wanted to see cars. Lots of classic cars. So, we went to the auto museum, and I listened to him chatter happily about all things automobile through 125,000 square feet of classic cars.

We also saw Cirque du Soleil, the Bellagio's fountain show, the Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay, and the shop from "Pawn Stars." We ate at "Vegas's Best Buffet," where I promptly got food poisoning. What the heck is it with me and Vegas? I get ill every time! And I don't even party!

One very funny moment: as we got to Vegas that first day, we got stuck in traffic. Yeah, I managed to have us driving into Vegas at 5:00. I'm brilliant, I know. So, I'm staring ahead at the cars inching along ahead, and something comes into view.


Seriously. I nudged Son. "Do you see that?" I pointed.

He squinted. "What's Yoda doing on a billboard?"

As we inched closer, the billboard revealed itself a bit at a time. Until I saw these four wondrous words:


When? The last night we were supposed to be in Vegas.

"Hurry, Mom!" said Son. I can't begin to describe how elated I was to see his enthusiasm for something he knew I would like.

We got to the hotel finally, where the clerk made the uber-creepy comment, "We have you for two beds. Would you prefer one?" Raised eyebrow at me and Son. Oogy man. No. He's my son.

Pause for creepy-shiver.

We rushed to the room. Son whipped out my laptop and started searching for tickets. Yes! Two tickets, on the aisle, close enough to see Anthony Daniels's stage makeup. See? I took this with my phone:

The summer was rough. Son broke up with the good girlfriend. Or rather, she broke up with him. He came to the painful realization that it was mostly because he can be a supreme jerk. He'd say, in tears, "Why did I do that to her? She's such a nice person, and I wasn't very nice."

He spun into a very dark depression. He didn't care if he lived or died. He talked to me for hours, which completely annoyed my mother because she wanted him to talk to her. Get a grip. The thing is, I couldn't be there all day. Neither could my folks. And we did have cause to worry, as I could see him hurting himself.

So, we did two things. First, we went to the doctor. This was the worst of his depressions, but certainly not the first. She prescribed some medication, which eventually helped, but would take time to do so. Second, every day Ranger would get on a bus and come to the stop closest to my house. I'd pick him up, he'd take me to work, and he'd spend the day with Son. Sometimes, all they did was watch TV in silence. Sometimes, he'd convince him to go someplace, and they'd end up bumping along a dirt road to go check out the canyonlands, or some such. And they talked. Just a little and often superficially, but it kept Son moving forward. And Ranger won my mother's undying gratitude for that. Well, she says so, and I hope she means it.

The story of how Son's college career got kicked off will wait for another blog. Suffice it to say...I'm tired.

Daughter continues to be nothing short of brilliant. Stellar. She astounds me daily. We met up with an old friend in Denver, in July. Our friend watched my daughter as she took pictures along the 16th Street Mall one night. Daughter was in rare form, feeling sassy and confident from the top of her fedora to the tip of her newly-acquired 2-inch heels.

"I can't believe she's so grown up," my friend said. She has known daughter since she was a toddler. "I wish I'd had that confidence at her age. Just look at how she carries herself!"

And it's true. I've never seen a more self-confident teenager. She told me a few weeks ago that she'd been thinking about her college career. She loves her art, but knows it won't make much money. So, she wants to go into graphic design and do her art as a hobby. Can we please go visit colleges during spring break?


She's since learned that the local college has a great graphic design program. She sent an email to the professor in charge of it, introduced herself, and made an appointment to go talk to her. She spent two hours with this professor, who later stopped me on campus to tell me how blown away she was by my child. (insert big grin here!) "She's only 15?" she asked. Yep. She is.

Ranger...well, that's another blog, too. We've had ups and downs. More ups than downs, though. We took a few days in October to get away. A little vacation, and it was beyond delightful. Just what we needed at the time. I'll blog more detail on that, too. The week ended differently than we'd planned, but it was still good.

The trouble I'm having with Ranger is the burden of him not working. He had a job for a few weeks, but it didn't pan out. Again. Through no fault of his, I'll admit, but I think he's getting to comfortable with only searching online job boards. The way he got that one job was through having face time with the manager. It never would have happened with just online job boards. But I don't want to feel like he's doing things just because I'm pushing him, you know?

Oh, and his ex has been a nightmare. I'll just say this: It takes a particular brand of woman to try to hurt a man through his children.

So, there you have it. In a nutshell, certainly, but it's the quick run-down. I'll write on those promised blogs as quickly as possible.

Dear Diary, it's good to be back.


Angella Lister said...

Oh, Blogget, we have missed you. Welcome back, friend!

~ellen~ said...

Holy crapmuffins, Blogget, I was afraid you were dead! I am so relieved. :)

At least post one blog update every 6 months just so I won't worry, okay? Thank you very much!

Blogget Jones said...

Thanks, ladies :o) I promise to do better!!