Thursday, December 24, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
FALL FOLIAGE @2009 BY MARY PECK
Newlyweds KIM and STEVE are celebrating with family and friends at their swank "destination wedding"
in Aruba.
CHARACTERS:
KIM: the blushing bride, with a taste for the finer things, loves being the center of attention
STEVE: the groom, easygoing, gregarious, fun-loving
DIANE: Kim's mother
MAYA: Kim's friend and bridesmaid
LUPE: a kind, unassuming waitress
SANDI: a pretty young barmaid
CHELSEA: friend of Steve and Kim
LUKE: Chelsea's estranged husband
ERIC: friend of Steve and Kim
SCOTT: friend of Diane's family
HEATHER: friend of Steve and Kim
JARED: Heather's wise-cracking husband, a guy with a middle-class upbringing who has worked his way up the ladder
The guys are at the bar. The gals are exchanging pleasantries with Kim, Kim's mother Diane, and the bridesmaids.
LUKE: (to barmaid, putting two bucks down) Hey beautiful! Vodka tonic.
SANDI: You got it
ERIC: You got Molson?
SANDI: For you – anything.
CHELSEA: Kim, you look gorgeous. I love the details.
SCOTT: Indeed. Is that Vera Wang?
CHELSEA: Oh, Mrs. Mullin, you look beautiful. So good to see you.
SCOTT: That color is absolutely stunning on you… stunning! I love it.
DIANE: (putting arm around Chelsea) You too, sweetie. Please, call me "Auntie Diane".
CHELSEA: Oh
SCOTT: (picking up a poinsettia) Oh, my, I just adore these centerpieces! I just love a Christmas-y wedding.
DIANE: You look lovely as always. How are the children?
CHELSEA: Good, thanks.
DIANE: And the little guy? Is he trained yet?
CHELSEA: (glancing over at Luke at the bar) Umm…
KIM: Mom? He's not even two years old yet!
CHELSEA: (realizing Diane is referring to the baby) Oh, we're working on it
DIANE: Well, you were all trained by six months.
KIM: Oh, c'mon… we were not.
DIANE: Oh, yes. (to Chelsea) Sweetie, if you ever need anything, you know I'm just a phone call away.
CHELSEA: Yes, thanks.
LUKE: another vodka tonic
A group of waitresses is staring and pointing at Luke. They push one of the women forward.
LUPE: Excuse me, I don't want to bother you, but it's not for me, it's for my grandson Keith. He's 7. You're his favorite player.
LUKE rolls eyes, wordlessly scribbles his initials on a napkin and hands it to Lupe.
LUPE: (a little disappointed) Oh, thank you. (she walks back to show the other waitresses)
JARED, HEATHER and MAYA walk over to the bar.
JARED: Hey, hey, hey!
ERIC: Whassup man?
LUKE: (checking out Heather and Maya) Hey
ERIC: (to Jared) Heard you got a promotion. Congrats!
JARED: Thanks, man. That extra money comes in handy with the kiddies, I tell ya. Especially with the economy the way it is.
ERIC: I hear you, man.
LUKE: (to Heather) Whassup, doll?
HEATHER: Same old. Nice to get a break. Seventh graders, I tell ya. Then it's home to my three. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.
JARED: Oh, Heather's gonna be in a pageant.
LUKE: Well, you should slay 'em.
JARED: Yeah, it's for "over 40" chicks.
HEATHER: (bristling at the "over 40" part) Well, it's a "Mrs. Long Island" pageant.
ERIC: You'll be great.
SANDI: (agitated) What's your talent? Baton twirling?
HEATHER: Actually, I tap dance.
LUKE: Care to give us a sampling?
HEATHER: Here? I don't think so. Maybe after a few more of these (she hoists her wine glass). Um, I understand Chelsea used to compete in pageants.
LUKE: (agitated) Yeah, back in the day.
HEATHER: Oh, remember my cousin MJ? She says hi.
LUKE: MJ? What does she look like?
JARED: Like a human bowling ball. (Jared waddles. Heather playfully smacks Jared.)
You'd never know those two were related.
LUKE: Yeah, if she looked like you I woulda remembered her. She here?
JARED: No, they didn't make the cut
LUKE laughs
STEVE comes over to the bar.
ALL: Steverino!
To be continued…
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Fat woman walkin'
Went walking today, unfortunately it was cut short b/c my dirtbag neighbor is out of jail again. Nice, huh. See, some folks, including the dirtbag himself, have objected to my calling him that word. He was on his bike, did a wheelie like he was a little kid, and glared at me. I made it home ok, called the cops and social services again.
social services has done nothing. cops say they'll "check it out".
this "kid" has been nothing but a menace since he moved in here. he's broken into houses, cars, smashed windows in his house when intoxicated, and I could go on and on.
the father has defended him
after stealing things from us he continued to loiter in my driveway on his cell phone, while his parents were in la la land, when I couldn't take it anymore one day, called him a "dirtbag" and told him to get out of my driveway. Now some people think I antagonized him by doing so. So the next time he saw me he stared me down and screamed "get out of my driveway".
I basically am ok w/most of my other neighbors, but I am puzzled by their reactions. One says he does work for the kid's mother and she's "very nice". I don't know how nice she is if she lets him go around and break into houses. I've seen other parents let their kids hang out with him, the same neighbors that shunned my son with LD who doesn't bother anyone.
I don't get it. The parents were never held accountable for not keeping a closer eye on their kid. I have sympathy for a lot of people, but not this family.
social services has done nothing. cops say they'll "check it out".
this "kid" has been nothing but a menace since he moved in here. he's broken into houses, cars, smashed windows in his house when intoxicated, and I could go on and on.
the father has defended him
after stealing things from us he continued to loiter in my driveway on his cell phone, while his parents were in la la land, when I couldn't take it anymore one day, called him a "dirtbag" and told him to get out of my driveway. Now some people think I antagonized him by doing so. So the next time he saw me he stared me down and screamed "get out of my driveway".
I basically am ok w/most of my other neighbors, but I am puzzled by their reactions. One says he does work for the kid's mother and she's "very nice". I don't know how nice she is if she lets him go around and break into houses. I've seen other parents let their kids hang out with him, the same neighbors that shunned my son with LD who doesn't bother anyone.
I don't get it. The parents were never held accountable for not keeping a closer eye on their kid. I have sympathy for a lot of people, but not this family.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
good morning
There is much to be thankful for.
Good friends, family, just being alive even if it is a little too chilly for my liking...
My fear is that some folks will read this blog and go "gosh, what a complainer..."
Yeah, I am one. But I feel better already just having b*tched.
Ok, I'll try to find the positives and talk about those for a change. That would be liberating.
Meanwhile, I hope you all have a great day. Later...
Good friends, family, just being alive even if it is a little too chilly for my liking...
My fear is that some folks will read this blog and go "gosh, what a complainer..."
Yeah, I am one. But I feel better already just having b*tched.
Ok, I'll try to find the positives and talk about those for a change. That would be liberating.
Meanwhile, I hope you all have a great day. Later...
Monday, November 30, 2009
Dad
I don't understand.
When I was a child my father tickled me to the point where it hurt and I begged him to stop, which he didn't. Then he'd hold me down and say: "I could kill you if I wanted to."
I was a little kid and my father was a big man. I was powerless against him.
My father screamed at me all the time and called me names. I was "mental", a "snotnose brat" and a "thankless kid". When he drank, it got worse.
I wanted my father to love and accept me. Nothing I ever did was good enough. I felt like it was all my fault. If I tried harder, did better in school, was prettier, etc., then he wouldn't treat me this way.
I was terrified to tell anyone. My mother said "What goes on within these four walls stays within these four walls." and "The Bible says to honor thy father and mother." When I got a bit older I heard about a group called Alateen. I wanted to contact them in the worst way. But I was too scared. I was afraid that my father might find out and kill me.
So I harbored this secret my whole life. I went to several counselors but couldn't bring myself to tell anyone. I keep hearing my mother's words in my head. I tried to move on. I tried to forgive.
When my mother passed away there were some people who constantly asked me "How is your father?". It was hard to steer the conversation in another direction. I would mumble about how he sings, plays cards, etc. I didn't know what to say and I still don't.
I became increasingly active in Catholicism, the faith in which I was raised. Obviously I still harbored resentment towards my father for the way he treated my mother and I when I was growing up. However, I felt the need to "honor" and "forgive" because that is what my religion had taught. He was a difficult, arrogant man. Still, I kept trying.
While I think that on some levels my mother was an enabler, I believe that she was frightened of my Dad, that he might kill her and/or me. I also think she thought she was doing the right thing by being the good, obedient wife. A deeply religious, traditional Catholic, she had made a commitment before God and His Church.
When my father became ill and hospitalized, I took care of his affairs. His personal life and financial matters were a mess. Still, I kept trying. I went to visit him. He got up out of bed to use the bathroom. He knew that he wasn't supposed to do so without consulting the nurse but he did it anyway. He shushed me not to tell the nurse. His roommate became agitated and said he shouldn't do that, he could die. The nurse came in and admonished him. Dad became angry at her and threatened to leave the hospital.
DH and I continued to visit. He had only a handful of visitors. I prayed and sang hymns over his bedside with the Sisters at the hospital. He wanted to get out of there. I told him that the nurses said he couldn't leave yet, he was still too weak. He called me a liar and a charlatan.
He finally went to a rehab facility, the best of all that DH and I had visited. The staff was kind to him, but he was abusive and uncooperative. Pulling out tubes, refusing to eat, removing the DNR bracelet. Now he's in another rehab place, behavior hasn't changed. People try to help him and he's nasty. Last times that I saw him he had nothing but horrible things to say to and about me. He forcibly pushed my head away.
I left the room. I went into the ladies room and sobbed. I tried to compose myself. I went back into the room. More abuse. Back to the ladies room. Same thing. Repeated this the next day.
I can't do it anymore.
I have a DH and three children. They are my family. I love them. DH still visits Dad. Dad is still nasty. Someday DHs picture will be depicted in stained glass if he keeps going.
I'm in church on Sunday and the priest is going on about forgiveness and whatnot and my insides are a jumbled mess.
When I was a child my father tickled me to the point where it hurt and I begged him to stop, which he didn't. Then he'd hold me down and say: "I could kill you if I wanted to."
I was a little kid and my father was a big man. I was powerless against him.
My father screamed at me all the time and called me names. I was "mental", a "snotnose brat" and a "thankless kid". When he drank, it got worse.
I wanted my father to love and accept me. Nothing I ever did was good enough. I felt like it was all my fault. If I tried harder, did better in school, was prettier, etc., then he wouldn't treat me this way.
I was terrified to tell anyone. My mother said "What goes on within these four walls stays within these four walls." and "The Bible says to honor thy father and mother." When I got a bit older I heard about a group called Alateen. I wanted to contact them in the worst way. But I was too scared. I was afraid that my father might find out and kill me.
So I harbored this secret my whole life. I went to several counselors but couldn't bring myself to tell anyone. I keep hearing my mother's words in my head. I tried to move on. I tried to forgive.
When my mother passed away there were some people who constantly asked me "How is your father?". It was hard to steer the conversation in another direction. I would mumble about how he sings, plays cards, etc. I didn't know what to say and I still don't.
I became increasingly active in Catholicism, the faith in which I was raised. Obviously I still harbored resentment towards my father for the way he treated my mother and I when I was growing up. However, I felt the need to "honor" and "forgive" because that is what my religion had taught. He was a difficult, arrogant man. Still, I kept trying.
While I think that on some levels my mother was an enabler, I believe that she was frightened of my Dad, that he might kill her and/or me. I also think she thought she was doing the right thing by being the good, obedient wife. A deeply religious, traditional Catholic, she had made a commitment before God and His Church.
When my father became ill and hospitalized, I took care of his affairs. His personal life and financial matters were a mess. Still, I kept trying. I went to visit him. He got up out of bed to use the bathroom. He knew that he wasn't supposed to do so without consulting the nurse but he did it anyway. He shushed me not to tell the nurse. His roommate became agitated and said he shouldn't do that, he could die. The nurse came in and admonished him. Dad became angry at her and threatened to leave the hospital.
DH and I continued to visit. He had only a handful of visitors. I prayed and sang hymns over his bedside with the Sisters at the hospital. He wanted to get out of there. I told him that the nurses said he couldn't leave yet, he was still too weak. He called me a liar and a charlatan.
He finally went to a rehab facility, the best of all that DH and I had visited. The staff was kind to him, but he was abusive and uncooperative. Pulling out tubes, refusing to eat, removing the DNR bracelet. Now he's in another rehab place, behavior hasn't changed. People try to help him and he's nasty. Last times that I saw him he had nothing but horrible things to say to and about me. He forcibly pushed my head away.
I left the room. I went into the ladies room and sobbed. I tried to compose myself. I went back into the room. More abuse. Back to the ladies room. Same thing. Repeated this the next day.
I can't do it anymore.
I have a DH and three children. They are my family. I love them. DH still visits Dad. Dad is still nasty. Someday DHs picture will be depicted in stained glass if he keeps going.
I'm in church on Sunday and the priest is going on about forgiveness and whatnot and my insides are a jumbled mess.
hi all
I hesitated whether or not I should write this blog. I don't want to hurt innocent people. I have grappled with whether or not I should "out" someone because they were abusive to me and someone that I loved dearly. Thing is, some people I care about deeply think that the abusive person is a good guy. They don't know what happened. If I "out" the abuser, these folks might be hurt. Chances are good they will be. I don't want that. My God, I don't want that.
But I am a loose cannon ready to explode. The aftermath of my abuse has been a lifetime of dysfunction. I have PTSD. I love my husband and children with all my heart. I love my friends. I feel like I can't be the person that I want to be with them. A good friend of mine keeps asking me "are you ok?". She knows something is wrong. I keep telling her that "I'm tired" but it's so much more than that
But I am a loose cannon ready to explode. The aftermath of my abuse has been a lifetime of dysfunction. I have PTSD. I love my husband and children with all my heart. I love my friends. I feel like I can't be the person that I want to be with them. A good friend of mine keeps asking me "are you ok?". She knows something is wrong. I keep telling her that "I'm tired" but it's so much more than that
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