How’ve you been? Have you changed your style and do you think that we’ve grown up differently? Don’t seem the same. Seems you’ve lost your feel for me…

Wow sorry, I just totally had that song “We Just Disagree” in my head thanks the the first part of my title and my brain just kind of ran with it… But I’d like to think you guys are used to my eccentricities by now. Right…?

Anyway… Things have been really stressful for me lately and I’ve either been losing myself in my writing (because we all need our fantasies) or playing Animal Crossings because it’s a cute little escape. Prepare for spam, my friends…

I’ve had some rather big stresses come up along with the stresses I’ve been working on with “Dr. Phil” (I still think that’s funny) in therapy. Like huge, major stresses… One of the worst was having to have plumbers come to fix my leaky tub, which would have eaten up most of the money I’d saved for Christmas, then they broke something they had to try to get out and the amount was suddenly doubled! I didn’t have that kind of money and now didn’t have a working shower. So I had to do what I hate… I had to ask my sister for help. Imagine my surprise when she not only sent her handy man over to look at it, but she’d already paid him to fix it and buy the supplies. Now I feel like shit… I hate to have to ask for help…

There were other major stresses (that thankfully came and went), but I’m still having stress over my mother. It’s… complicated. Dr. Phil asked me last time if I ever spoke to her about how I felt. I had a few times and he asked what had happened when I did and what would happen if I spoke to her over the current irritation. I told him she would belittle me and treat me as if my feelings weren’t valid. That’s what she’s always done. The closest I’ve ever gotten to an apology from her was, “I know I haven’t been the greatest mother; I’ll never say I was.” Well… I guess that sums it up… I actually gave him some examples of conversations we’d had over the years, the responses I’ve gotten… It’s pretty sad when your therapist tells you not to talk to your mother about what she did or said that hurt you because the response would only add more fuel to your fire. Literally, that’s what he said to me. He’s right, you know… That’s why I don’t talk to her about things. I did, however, talk to my sister. Amazingly, I think she gave me a good perspective. My mother got married right out of high school (she was knocked up), never had the chance to grow up and never has. She also told me that, had she not met her late husband, she thinks she would have never gotten out of that house, either. Imagine, a woman raises you to be so independent, then desperately holds onto you to take care of her…

So I’m already on the fence about how I fee about my mother… I feel bad if I think I hurt her or think badly of her. But then the other part of my brain kicks in and yells at me and asks why I should feel bad, after how she’s treated me and allowed the Sponge to treat me all these years, she doesn’t deserve me feeling bad for her or one of the fucking tears I’ve shed. And it’s like that in my brain all the time…

The Friday before Thanksgiving she really hurt me and didn’t even bat an eye about it… See, when I lived at home (and finally got my own home) my mother would trust me to make the family recipe for filling (or stuffing as some of you call it) because I was always in the kitchen with her and I had learned to make it. She trusted me to do it right and make it as my grandmother always had (though the recipe probably goes back further than that). But my sister? If we ate at her house, my mother would make the filling herself and take it over for my sister to bake because, no offense, my sister never could cook. And she had never spent time in the kitchen like I did to learn these things as I did. Considering that my mother thought my sister was so mother fucking wonderful in every single aspect of life (which I know isn’t my sister’s fault, it’s my mom’s), I always felt a little superior when it came to filling. I was allowed to make it; my sister was not allowed to do so. I’m sure you can imagine how pissed and hurt I was when she told me that Friday that she had been letting my sister make it for the past several years… Um… excuse me?! So in that one simple sentence, she took away the only thing that ever made me feel superior and special compared to my sister. I was devastated…

While telling Phil how all this made me feel. he told me not to worry. I hadn’t participated in family meals in 15 years. You come to my house or you don’t; I don’t care. He told me to go home and make the best filling I’ve ever made this year. And… this happened… I’ve never had filling rise up out of the dish like this. Same dish, I did nothing different… But let me tell you, it was the best tasting filling I’ve ever made. I showed my mother the picture and she was impressed it rose like it did. She also said she would take some (like I’d eat this whole dish) and told me, “It was GOOD!” Not only that, the Sponge said it was really good as well. So guess who retains their title of Queen of Filling…? Yeah, I do, thank you very much… I guess my subconscious took Phil’s advice very literally.

Since I was feeling so good about the whole regaining my superiority over filling making thing (this was also before those asshats came and broke my fucking shower and wanted to charge me almost a grand to fix it), I decided to put up my tree as I always do after Thanksgiving. Excuse the mess in the background… I finally broke down last year and, since I had the money, replaced the tree that was falling apart and bought a Balsam Hill one. I got the semi-realistic, but you’d never know to look at it. It’s so beautiful! Of course I said it just had to be the six and a half foot full one. No skinny trees here, nope… So the issue with a really fat ass tree is that I have little room to put it. So I just shove everything in the dining room (the mess you see in the background) so I can get the tree up and put in place. I hope… This year it was being difficult and just didn’t want to fit like last year. What the fuck… Still, it looks so cheerful, don’t you think?

Of course it would probably look a lot better without the “wall o’ Pops!”, as I like to call it, behind it. It all started with a Disney’s Robin Hood Pop! figure because I just love that movie; it’s my favorite. Now I have so many Pop! figures it looks like I live in Hot Topic… They’re on top of that bookshelf, my other bookshelf, on my shelves in my art area in the bedroom, packed away in boxes in the basement… It’s insane.

I do have one lament in all this… I don’t have room for all my Nutcrackers this year…

I… kind of have a problem with Nutcrackers… And when I say I have a problem, I mean I have a problem. Have you ever been in a store and they have displays of Nutcrackers where it forms a sort of Nutcracker pyramid? Yeah, I could probably do that if I would have shelves built. And every year I buy at least one more for some dumb reason. I always find one that I fall in love with. This year it’s one I found at Hobby Lobby… He’s a pirate! Yeah, I know, that’s got nothing to do with the story… Not to fear, I do have the Magician, the Mouse King, the Nutcracker Prince… Trust me, I wasn’t about to not have the ballet played out in my collection. But I had no room for all of them this year, so I only put out the most important. I’m actually quite sad about this…

And if you’re wondering about those ugly ass angels, well… Honestly they’re not as ugly as the other ones I have sitting in front of the TV at the moment. My mother had all these decorations that were my grandmother’s that she no longer put out so she gave them to me. These angels are okay looking… So are some of the other ancient decorations. But those ones in front of the TV?! Good god… You don’t want to know what I’d like to do to their fugly asses…

Sadly, due to some major stressors and the bullshit with my mom, I’ve just kind of isolated myself and hung out with my little animal friends… They’re very sweet to me and always make me smile. One day Marshal asked me if anyone told me I looked stunning in the windbreaker I was wearing. My thought was, “Marshal, no one has ever told me I look stunning period!” Yesterday Kabuki visited and I actually got some really nice pictures of his usually gruff and grumpy ass smiling and we were bopping to my latest and current favorite song, “K.K. Break” (it’s so 70s and retro sounding). It’s a nice escape and a good way for me to relax when everything around me seems to be falling apart or just becoming too overwhelming. It’s great relaxation therapy.

Well, my friends, I think I’ll leave you with an early Christmas present… Holy shit, I’m sharing my ugly ass mug again! Hahahaa!

I really wish I could have gotten a clearer picture, but it’s so hard to get any clear pictures that involve “psycho dog”, here… Baxter used to take cute selfies with mommy. Now he’s usually so wired for sound he couldn’t sit still if you gave him a shot of curare… If you don’t know what that is, why are you reading this?! Go watch Gilligan’s Island! Seriously, and they say television isn’t educational… Anyway, I just love my little goober and decided I wanted a selfie with him. Besides, it was one of those days when I gave a fuck. Holy shit… Yes, I gave a fuck and did my makeup and hair, dressed nice… I wish I had days like that more often, but I don’t. Usually my days consist of depression and refusing to get up off the sofa and my pajamas and I being one and the same. That’s sad…