Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Sunday Night Still Lingers

I just hurried to take the trash out before it got dark. Yes, I'm still bothered. Can we just revisit my shitty Sunday night full of dread and fear? As you may recall, some animal was bothering the garbage cans right outside my window and I extrapolated from that that I was about to be murdered by killer hobos. I should let this go, but I can't, because I think, in part, it reveals that I'm a bad feminist. Which really sucks, because my definition of a good feminist is basically "Don't wait around hoping to be rescued by big strong men, even if they are cute and armed. Take care of your damn self." Y'all, I just want one thing right now. I want, when faced with something that scares the shit out of me, to think "Holy shit, things are really frightening, but I know just what to do. I'm going to kick that thing's ass." And that can be a real or metaphorical ass-kicking, either way. The thing is that I already feel grossly incompetent. And I know everyone feels grossly incompetent at times, so that's fine, but I feel grossly incompetent and like the only grown-up in my household. Which is also fine. I made some choices; I let some shit get to points it shouldn't have gotten to; life goes on. I'm not complaining; I'm just saying. Like it or not, I'm the person who has to take care of shit, because if there's not one grown-up in the house, there won't be power or cable or food or even one god-damn car so that people can get to work. The head of a household made up of one person who can't even stay by herself for four nights before she's huddled up under her covers like the comforter is going to provide her with magic protection against knife-wielding railway killers and one ne'er-do-well who can't be bothered to keep a car or a job for any longer than the moment it ceases to be fun and three other mammals who need to eat and shit and occasionally go to the doctor needs to be strong and together. She should probably be working to increase her net worth. Instead, it's just me, who can't even figure out what the fuck to do when something's in her trash. On the other hand, I'd like for just five seconds to stop being so god damned Midwestern. "Oh, I didn't want to bother anyone." "It's no trouble, I'll just live with it." Y'all my grandma went around for twenty years with her uterus partially hanging into her vagina because she didn't want to trouble the doctor. Is that what I want? To never be able to ask for help when I need it because I don't want to bother anyone? Well, yeah, kind of. It's a whole lot easier to just count on yourself, instead of letting others take care of you a little bit. They don't cover this kind of stuff at our radical feminist man-hating, baby-killing, lesbian witch coven meetings, so I'm kind of at a loss. It's really fucked up how much I depend on the Butcher for my emotional well-being and how little I trust him to do right by the household. And the fucking dog thing is still bothering me, which is the same damn issue. It's not that the dog cannot stay here while we're at my cousin's wedding--my god, I'm tired of hearing me talk about it, and yet here I go again--it's that I trust the Professor to take care of my emotional well-being and yet I'm completely unsettled about letting her take care of my dog, who has, as we all know, come to embody half of my world. My god, if I had to leave my car and Mrs. Wigglebottom in someone's care for the day, I'd need a fucking therapist. And it's not that the Professor is untrustworthy. The woman is one of the most-trustworthy people on the planet. I trust her with my life, and I don't say that lightly. It's that I am being a total idiot about this shit. My god. Did I have a point? A fucking hour ago, I started out to say something about feeling like a bad feminist and from there we've gotten to me admitting an overdependance on the well-being of my dog and car and my inability to negotiate regular human interaction without selling the people that I care about short. God damn. I wish this had been more of a post about me wishing I knew how to kick someone in the face and wanting to discover inner strength and wisdom and all that inspirational feminist bullshit you've come to love. But somehow, we never got there.

7 Comments:

Blogger John H said...

This is probably the best, most honest post not containing any hermaphrodite porn I've read in a 'month of Sundays' (channeling my late grandmother with that quote).

Seriously, I'm totally envious of your ability to translate your heart and soul onto your blog.

kudos. And if you ever need anybody to come over and deal with spiders and shit..I'm your man (whooops, was that sexist??)

10/04/2005 09:25:00 PM  
Blogger Ivy, the Great and Powerful said...

Man. Do I ever know how that is. A lot of times, I'll be doing some grownup thing- balancing my checkbook, or being at a PTO thing, whatever. Suddenly it occurs to me: this is what grownups do. When in the HELL did I become a grownup?

I just turned 30 years old and I still sometimes feel like I'm failing miserably at adulthood. I'm probably not, it just feels that way.

BTW, I know the whole Midwesterner mentality of not wanting to bother anyone, it cracks me up- I'm originally from Indiana, and I get that way a lot myself. Not to the point of letting my uterus hang out, though, not yet. ;)

10/04/2005 10:39:00 PM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Thanks for the uterus image. No fish tacos from Baja Fresh for me today.

I don't recall being on Monster Garage...

10/05/2005 09:11:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Dude, I might be the most inept, socially awkward, cowardly woman in Nashville, but I swear, if you were cute, dimpled, armed AND on Monster Garage, I'd stand out at the intersection of 21st, Broadway, and Division reciting poems in your honor.

Hell, I'd convert to Physical Graffiti for you.

I don't know one woman who wouldn't. Monster Garage has got to be the female equivalent of soft-core porn.

10/05/2005 09:27:00 AM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Speaking of standing on the corner...

Sunday afternoon I'm driving down West End. On my left in front of Wendys and PF Chang's (I think) are Vandy kids holding up signs for "Car Wash for Katrina Aid" or something. A frat or sorority looking to do something charitable and maybe skim some beer money off of the top. Across the street at Centennial Park were a family of four holding up "Abortion is Murder" signs.

So, either one of those groups had misread the calendar, or Bill Bennett was having a book signing at Borders.

10/05/2005 09:32:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Oh, my god, look at you switch the subject. All this time I've been trying to get a rise out of you by calling you old, and the trick was just to point out that you're cute?

Very interesting.

10/05/2005 12:15:00 PM  
Blogger the Professor said...

Well now I am going to forget all those plans I had for taking the dog all over town and proving to you that she is much better behaved than you think. If you are this nervous about her being left here, even if it it just you displacing things on her, I will respect that and take better care of her than I will myself this weekend. I think we'll have fun, even if it is all in the house.

oh yeah, thanks for all those other flattering, kind words

10/05/2005 01:05:00 PM  

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