Tag Archives: friends

The Brilliant Mauditmo

Mauditmo is probably my most impressive friend. She is in a super prestigious MFA program and just won a super prestigious award (The Hopwood Award – also awarded to Frank O’Hara and Arthur Miller, if you believe Wikipedia) for her writing. I don’t think she reads the blog, although she is aware of it, so I will speak freely. In the last couple of years, Mauditmo found out she had an IQ of 171. You can look it up – it’s super high – but no number can describe her brilliance. I suppose that is why we need to read her books and take her to lunch. She said she was surprised to hear it was so high. I say it is clear to anyone within breathing distance that she is not only smarter than they are, but that she is probably smarter than anyone they know.

What I wonder is how she didn’t figure out she was so darn bright on her own. Why did it take this whole quantitative intelligence measure for her to know what the rest of us knew all along? Although I’m not exactly low on the scale I have at least of bit of a clue when I am dealing with someone significantly less clever. When Mauditmo was regularly around people dozens of IQ points lower than her, which would be always, she didn’t notice she was significantly smarter than, well, everyone?

Part of her must have known, and filed it away for later, or maybe the information wasn’t useful to her so she tossed it out. I spoke of Sherlock Holmes not knowing that the earth circled the sun. Does her genius keep her from those, “Gee, compared to me all of these folks are idiots,” revelations?

I have a high contempt for people who think they are smart but are not. Just plain stupid is one thing, but stupid folks who think they are smart are nearly intolerable. Once I worked as a teacher for developmentally disabled kids. I had various aides come and go, but figure I had about ten total. In that cast of ten, one was stupid but knew it, one was a sociopath, the other was a dignified intelligent woman that never held it over anyone and, another was supremely respected by everyone and didn’t do any work at all, and two were stupid but thought they were smart.

One of them would learn something and then talk about it all the time. Once it was “micro-climates”. She liked to say it all the time and managed to slide it in at any possible moment. Another was criminally stupid. One day we were all scheduled to go to the park. I went in to my office to get bus tickets, but they had been stolen. I apologized to the class and told them we couldn’t go. The aide said, “I might have some”. She went to her purse, opened it up, and took out the stolen tickets. The adult’s (and some of the kids) jaws dropped and we all went to the park.

She wanted the bus tickets, but more than that, she wanted more to go to the park.

One last shout out to Mauditmo – we are super proud of you for winning the Hopwood award and for just being you.

Feeling like my writing isn’t good today. That’s fine. I have lots of cards to make and rooms to organize. I also have to make a shout out to my new browsers. I am so glad you’ve dropped by! I love your blogs. Today I am snarky, but I often I am not. But maybe you like snarky?


So Richly Grieved

It’s a simple story – we were friends. He moved to LA, fell in love with a woman that didn’t like me (partially because I drank too much, I think, and I her boyfriend and I were too close.) They moved in together and pretty much that was it. I’ve seen him only a few times since then. They’ve long broken up, he’s moved to Africa and back and married a different woman.

I wish it was that simple.

It’s almost like he chose death. I can’t have my friend back, ever. No one believes me that I never was in love with him – but I was pretty drunk the summer we spent the most time together and we never wound up…. I won’t insult you with going into those details. I thought our friendship was strong. Turns out it wasn’t. I won’t go to any effort to contact him again. My donotcall.mal list is getting longer and longer and I can’t figure out why. It’s men, gay men, married men, married gay men, that either forget about me or decide they don’t want a relationship with me any more. I am naive enough to wonder why.

My bff T has reminded me, under a different situation with a similar end, that people would die to have friends so perfectly matched as the two of us. She is right – and she makes me really happy to think about. She is wonderful fun and kind and oh so generous. If I am wearing something new while drinking Peet’s coffee, it is because of T. I have another great friend, the mighty peridot (greenegem.wordpress.com) and we can talk about everything and do. She is not-bipolar, but has the heart of someone who does. I can even count my husband most of those days. While we are not very BFF we are going to get that way again, I am confident about that. I am so grateful for them! They bring so much light to my life. Today the sky is periwinkle. I am serious. I am not trying to be poet-or (and I never would use periwinkle in a poem anyway.) Thinking about my friends makes me think they are partially responsible for this clear, periwinkle sky. If they didn’t paint it, they helped make it possible for my head to be tilted back so I can see it.

When I’m thinking of my current non-friends I don’t think about my really good now friends. I, naturally, want to think about all the others – and of course they are many – that have broken or fallen by the wayside. They make me yell with frustration. Why do I even let them in to my new brain? I am reminded of Sherlock Holmes who has no idea the way the universe works but can sniff out a murderer with one of her abandoned shoes. If I could fill my little heart only with the people that loved my back, maybe my heart could grow until I truly can love my enemies, not in a way that frustrates me or degrades me, but with a pure, clear love. No mushy stuff – yes Jesus stuff.

BFF and till death do us part

My sister-in-law (husband’s sister) is a vegan and a Buddhist, and an atheist. She came to church with us and was able to say she enjoyed the music. We walked home.

She wanted to have girl time later, so I got my coat and took her out to the berm (levy) near our house. She wanted to talk about sex, so we did. I’m good at talking so people will talk more, so I didn’t reveal too much about our conjugal bed, only to insure her that, yes, things have changed, and yes, I was still attracted to her brother. Her brother is disgusted at the idea of my brother and I having conversations like that (which we don’t.)

More importantly than all of that was her sharing her thoughts on love and relationships. It interested me, yet I felt a little uneasy and since then I figured out why. Her idea is one of living in the moment. Does she believe that, that person is worth it and was worth the time you had together? If the answer is “yes” it doesn’t matter if he leaves you for another man or breaks up with you to move to Alaska and find his fortune. The idea is that you can wallow around in the other, good feeling moments without feeling bitter or angry.

My response was to think about it, and sort the truths from the baloney. This is what I came up with. When I enter a relationship, it is a commitment of some kind. Maybe the commitment is to speak to this man sitting next to me on a bus. Maybe it’s marriage, but they both require something. It’s up for the people involved to figure out what it is. I was reminded of this by T, my bff. Of course marriages require commitment – that’s the point, right? But what about friendships? Are they commitment driven?

Second grade started and Small came home with a new best friend. Her name was M and she is a beautiful, not too bright, little girl. She had been held back a year and she and her equally as intellectually equip brother were in the same class. I did not like this friendship because I didn’t think it was a good match. Also, we had invited them to two consecutive birthday parties where they did not come. It wasn’t that I was offended, really, who cares at a pool party? But I knew something would happen that would cause Small to get hurt. I didn’t say anything about it, who knows, maybe I should have. Small went to justice and bought BFF bracelets. I told her if they break up as BFFs that M gets to keep the bracelet. She agreed that was appropriate.

It was less than a week when I had a sobbing little daughter, crying so loudly and fiercely that she was gulping for air. M had picked another girl to be her partner in a school activity. It was over. M had promised she wouldn’t hurt Small and then she did. There was a commitment on Small’s side to be Best Friends Forever. It wasn’t a necklace for her, it was a way of life. She’s moved on to other BFFs and I like the girls (and boy) she is hanging out with now. They are smart and social and cute.

But what about T. Now, I know you are reading this, Mrs T, but I’m going to write about it anyway. It may have been a misunderstanding on my part, but if it was, it’s an interesting misunderstanding. I was talking away with Mrs T and she was chatting back. We’re a noisy pair, the two of us. At one point she said, “I don’t know if I am able to do this.” I am pretty sure she meant that she wasn’t sure she was able to commit to our friendship. She said that friends in her life were compartmentalized – people she walks with, people she plays Parcheesi with, people she sees at church. I was running over onto many areas of her life. Was this going to work?

I think my sister-in-laws philosophy would be to decide the in the person herself was worthy, believe him to be so, and to love them. She was to love them without expectations and when he leaves, he is gone.

I can’t do that. I am too much like Small. I enter a relationship, I expect, no need something from the other person. It’s not a form of manipulation, although I can see how it might be perceived that way. It’s my reality. If love is gentle, patient, kind and keeps no record of wrongs, doesn’t boast then I have to look at a relationship through those eyes. I think that gentleness can be evident to tall without commitment to a person individually, but I do not think that patience can exist without a commitment. I will be patient – also known as “long-suffering” with you. I may not like what you do, or honestly, always like you, but I will be patient with you. You are you, unalterably you, and, even though I might be as zany as thought possible, I will not be reckless with your soul. That is my commitment to you. If I bind myself to you, and things go south, it will be sad and I will be angry. I think that, in most cases, that is okay. It is part of it, ya know? I don’t have the soul of a reed where water and wind blow through me unfettered.

Feeling strangely centered, considering I am pointing out my own non-meditative state. Good bye for now.

I think things are working with T just fine now, thank you very much. She is busy and happy and lost all her excess weight. I am not the same kind of busy, but I have a lot to do, and some times I even do it. I like my friend very much. We are like teenagers. Once overweight teenagers with husbands who work and don’t go to school. And text each other all the time. And drink Peet’s coffee.

Life is good.

My Oldest Friend

My oldest friend calls herself “maudtimo” online and Monique Daviau (will remove if she doesn’t like being “outed”.)  She is a talented and prolific writer, currently studying the Michigan’s Master of Fine Arts Creative Writing Program.  I want everyone to know her name.  She writes well; she deserves it.

Probably if we met now, we would not be so close.  I am a no longer over-weight house wife who occasionally works with autistic tots.  I probably would not even get the chance to see her.  She is not hanging around church services and Bible studies and I’m not hanging out with the improv crowd. That makes me sad.  I’m limiting myself, I would love to be with other creative people.  The closest I get is crop (scrapbook) gatherings and I’ve never really been to a real one.  I work either by myself or with Small.  I think I enjoy it better that way.  I hardly admit to any kind of paper crafting at all.  This http://cocoacards.blogspot.com/2011/07/bookmark-with-origami-flower.html is why.  It’s embarrassing.  I’m more of a scrapbooking ninja (http://scrapbookninjas.com/).  

My birthday is tomorrow.  Did you remember?  In celebration Small and I have decorated the living space with birds.  (See Portlandia on youtube.)  We’re having a small dinner party hosted by my parents.  When my mother asked me where I wanted to go for dinner, I told her Five Guys.  They use peanut oil, you see.  My mother was disappointed.  “I thought you’d want to go some where nice.”  My husband gave me a “you’re being ridiculous” look.  She went upstairs and brought down this catering menu.  “This makes me want to throw a party,” she told me.  So, that is why we are having a nice, catered affair with eight of my closest friends.

My worse birthday was my sixteenth.  My dad wanted me to have a “coming-out” party, back when that was not gay.  I hadn’t enough friends to do it.  The day I drove my new car to school, I had no one to party with. I drove the friend, who is calling me a stalker in public internet venues, home.  After that I went to my brother’s middle school and chaperoned a dance.  It sucked.

That’s all for now.

Facebook Break – R for language

I’m talking a three week break from both Facebook and GCM. I had some idiots from my past pop up and they are calling me a stalker. Really, all I wanted to do was return a f-cking photo album to my high school sweetheart. He had a highly dysfunctional relationship that ended with him moving to Alaska. I knew he was back in the continental United States. I hadn’t been able to find him, but I did find his wife. Most of her pictures are of him. I emailed her trying to get them back to her, ex-bf’s bff sent me a pm through facebook saying they didn’t want it. Then he defriended me and blocked me from his photography page.

Then, he went ahead and posted on his facebook page that stalkers were not welcome there.

F-ck you. I was trying to be nice – treat people the way I wanted to be treated. That blew up.

What else happened lately? The stupidity with L. My old good friend and his new wife, without warning, are not answering my pms. It’s like we went from long time great friends to ancient acquaintances. it hurts.

So, those are the three reasons I am dropping face book. My brother agreed to get the pictures from my mom to destroy them, but by the time he got to their house my dad had already trashed them. My mom wanted to send them to his parents, but I believe my mom might actually have respected the boundary.

B doesn’t want us to have contact with anyone we’d had sex with before. That is probably a good idea, and I respect it. I respect it even more now. My brother said it is better to stay away from anyone you’ve ever dated because no good can ever come with it. They are right. I wish folks could be mature and have the ability to wish each other well, but that’s not how their clique rolls.

On another note, I may lose my job. Ah well, gives me more time for writing. I will make good use of the time. At least I hope I will.

A Lovely Baby Shower

I just deleted the “vent” post. I had a very nice baby shower here today, that’s why I went in to the psyche of a particular party guest and all her insipid ways. I am just tired of it, ya know? And there seems no end in sight. Ah! There is no end in sight. Thankfully they are the kind of people that move on purpose. We do not move on purpose. We stay put on purpose. That is why I’ve lived six places in the last ten years. I would have died happily in our little cottage in our city. That’s not the way it works.

I don’t want to vent. But I wish this woman came with a warning label. She’s like a German Sheppard. Fine one minute, the next. I need to fire her but haven’t done it yet. I’m still emotionally involved, and I think that it’s at least someone reasonable to stay that way. (Of course I’m talking about LN. If you didn’t pick that up yet.)

I will probably vent tomorrow. It struck me just now that I am afraid someone is going to read this and tell her and all hell will break lose. What do I care, really? Do I not want readers? Have I been unfair? One sided? (yes, one sided.)

Feeling Kind of Sad Today (PG)

Not sure why but I’m feeling kind of sad today. I couldn’t stay for all of the Red Ribbon Don’t Use Drugs Day assembly even though Small really wanted me to. I got to the psychiatrist’s late and she wouldn’t lower my Lamictal dose even though I believe it is directly responsible for my poor word recall. She asked if there was any real reason to be anxious and I couldn’t think of one aside from being late. She told me not to worry about her, the waiting room (they call it the salon) was bursting anyway. That didn’t help.

I like her scale because it says I weigh 150 lbs. I actually weigh 178. I trust Weight Watchers more than the shrink’s office. I know I’m still a big girl and I look it. From behind I am told I have a cute butt. That’s nice to hear – I never had much of a butt before. It’s the gut I want to go away now.

Might be sad from title=”Single Dad Laughing” target=”_blank”>http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/you-just-broke-your-child.html Read it, and get back to me. The things he observes remins me so much of Dobson when he instructs parents to break their children’s “will” not their “spirit”. The way to do this, of course, is to beat them. If they do not improve, spank harder and more often. Usually desperate parents read this stuff and do it. There seems to be little concern about the ramifications of violence in their child’s home. A child who cannot be trusted to learn logically from her own mistakes doesn’t need more spankings. She definitely needs consequences to her actions, of course she would. But what logical consequence is there for a three year old to spilling food off her plate on the table? Is a spank reasonable? No, but I’ve seen a man do it. Is telling her to clean it up reasonable? Yes. Is punishing her for not getting the table immaculate? Because of the child’s age, in my opinion, the consequence is reminding them next time to be neater. Then, if she doesn’t do it, consider a more age-appropriate consequence. If she doesn’t comply, perhaps your demands are unreasonable? Consider this: Does it make that big of a deal to wipe up a table?

Dobson is an enemy to children and families. I know some friends, even readers here like what he has to teach. I respect their rights to decide how to raise their children, but I respect my own right to comment about Dobson. It’s not you, dear reader, that I have the problem with, it’s just with some of your choices. Dobson pits parents against their children, calling the poor little ones manipulative. A counselor I once respected recommended the Strong Willed Child to parents with children that weren’t perfect. When I spoke to him about it, specifically about giving it to a family we had established is abusive, he nodded at me indulgently. It would have been easy to commit murder, but I had no means in which to do it.

There are a barage of “Christian” family books, videos and CD about raising children. I read a bunch of them before I was even married. Children interest me. Unfortunately the books made cry. There was one that advocated spanking every time you get a chance, even newborn babies, with PVC pipes because they don’t leave marks like some other things might. Another guru wanted newborn babies to cry for forty-five minutes so they could learn to sleep and said that if you don’t do things his way you were going to have an unhappy family. All this talk about being able to “love them too much” repelled me. Lastly, I read that a man who said that he had never met a child under twelve who was happy who wasn’t spanked.

I knew I couldn’t have children if I had to raise them so punitively. I knew I couldn’t do it the way I was raised as well. I cried. This was outside of my scope. I could never raise a hand or a PVC pipe to any child. There was some truth to what some of them said, but enough for my shoulders to seize up and my stomach to rumble.

Thank goodness I stumbled in a more natural, less punitive way of living. In the sixth grade we learned about babywearing. I thought it made so much sense, I knew I would do it. I wanted to breastfeed because it seemed to be convenient, not to mention best for the baby. I need a lot of sleep so I knew the baby would be in a side car in my bed as long as I needed the sleep and she wanted to be there. I stumbled upon an article about “Attachment Parenting” and recognized myself in it. I wasn’t the only one like this! There were even Christians who did it, although there were a number of anti-Christians that espoused that philosophy that did not like the Christians.

I can see why. If you read only the mainstream, Christian literature it would be easy to hate Christian parents. It’s a well earned aversion. I admit I get that feeling, too. I fight against it, confident in the millstone around the neck of the person who causes a little one to stumble. That sort of justice is somewhat soothing, but it doesn’t stop the child from being broken.

I have more to say about this, but I don’t have the time to write it. Maybe later, maybe not