Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

Whines

February 24, 2003 ... 9:07 p.m.

Whines

Opie: �I�ve got a bunch of cleaning stuff, I�ve even got rubber gloves.�
Eibisch: �Oh, bite me! I am NOT cleaning your apartment!�
Opie: �Oh, come on. Those yellow rubber gloves are sexy!�
Eibisch: �Until they�re wrapped around your throat, squeezing the life out of your body.�

The past few days have been a rollercoaster. I just can�t understand how things in my life--my boring life--can be so turbulent. I am easily one of the most laid-back, easy-going people you could ever meet. And I�m almost always cheerful/happy/smiling. Even when I�m feeling bad I don�t show it.

You know, I do the things I should--I go to church, I follow rules, I�m a good person, I treat others well, I bend over backwards for my family and friends. I can�t say �no� to anything. And I desperately want to leave home, start anew, just get my own life. But I can�t balance what I want and what I feel compelled to do. I prayed about it and I just ended up more confused than ever.

Do I follow my heart or do I follow my head? I just don�t know.

And I need some space. My brother is hovering around me all the time. My mother is also hovering all the time. Worse than that, she constantly invades what little privacy I do have. For instance--Oscar called this morning at about 3am. Okay? Nobody else calls that early (well, Opie does once in a while). And calls that come that early are for NO ONE ELSE! Nobody. Ever. Me. Just me.

So Oscar and I are chatting about sports, about things he misses in the states, yadda yadda yadda. 4:30am--*click* �Eibisch?� It�s Mom. �Eibisch? Are you on the phone?� I say yes (who/what does she think? That, perhaps, Le Prince is getting his fist crack of dawn booty call?) and she hangs up. Except that, before she hits the power button she hits redial and redials the last number called. Which was Oscar�s overseas number. Which terminated the current phone call. So I had to get up and hunt for my phonecard (so as not to run up Mom�s phonebill) in the dark and cold and then Oscar calls back and Mom gets mad because he rang at a quarter to five.

And another thing that really bugs the crap out of me about her interrupting at 4:30am is that she doesn�t wake up until 5:00. She deliberately woke up early to see who was calling and what we were talking about.

And just now--just right freaking now!--I was reading Hodgson�s latest entry. Mom peered over my shoulder and asked if Mr. Monkeypants was �George� (as in Curious George, whom I despise with every fiber of my being). Gee, Mom, I don�t know. Why don�t you read right there...Mis-ter...Monk-ey-pants...hmmm. Yeah. I can see how that could read G-E-O-R-G-E.

Maybe I�m just getting all worked up because my birthday is coming up and Cousin#4 is having her baby any day now. And it�s not that I am jealous--because I�m not. It�s just that with every big announcement, whether it�s a birth, marriage, pregnancy, whatever--I feel more and more like a loser. Like my family is sitting there going �Oh, that Eibisch. She�s 26. And single, with no real prospects. She doesn�t have kids. Is she gay? Does she even date? Of course, how could she? She doesn�t even work! She just sits at home. She only leaves to go to school and church...!�

I�m sure they�re not. No, I�m not--that is probably exactly what they�re saying.

You do realize I�ll delete this entry after I�ve regained my normal sunny disposition?

Currently Reading:
A Return To Modesty by Wendy Shalit

Listening To: ELVIS: Love Songs
*SIGH* Yep. I get my romance from recordings of a man who has been decomposing for over a quarter of a century.
Does it get any better than this? Don�t answer that--it�s rhetorical.

~*~

Have a happy day!

7 ... 8